by Natalie Dean
“I wanted to apologize for my mother.”
Wait, what?
Her eyes widened, and she stared at him like he had just achieved flight. Far too many of their interactions seemed to end up with one of them ogling at the other in shock, but she wasn’t sure what sort of reaction she was supposed to have to that kind of statement.
“You wanted to what?”
“I’ve been looking for you the past two days on the ranch, and when I couldn’t find you, I did a little asking around. I was surprised to find out that you quit because last I knew, we’d both had one of the best days either of us had had in a long time. So, after seeking advice from my Ma, I figured out she may have had something to do with it. Then she told me everything.”
He took a step closer, looking up the stairs at her with such a genuine expression on his face that her heart ached. “There’s no excuse for her prying into your business. I know that she thought she was protecting me, but it wasn’t right. Even if her motives were right, you could have taken everything she said the wrong way. Please believe me that we do not think bad of you.”
Another step and her breath was catching in her throat. This was… an apology? People didn’t apologize to her. Ever. It was always her fault. She was always somehow to blame.
“I can’t blame you for leaving, but my Ma is terribly upset and ashamed. She wanted me to express her apologies to you, and that’s not just me blowing it up your skirt. Even though Ma was being nosey, she’s a really good woman and didn’t mean to do you wrong. I like having you around, and so do all the barn workers. Even my brother Bradley thinks you’re a great addition to the family. If you want to come back to us, you’d be more than welcome.”
“I don’t know…” What did she do in this sort of situation? It just didn’t compute. No one had ever come up to her of their own volition and confessed that they were wrong. That their beloved mother was wrong. What was happening? Did the world suddenly turn upside down?
“Of course, we don’t expect to get off scot-free. The Miller family did wrong by you, and we’re intent on making that right. Ma thought a raise might do, and paid time off for the rest of this week so you can get some rest before coming back.”
“Your Ma thought of that?”
He shrugged. “The paid time off might have been my idea. I know I always need a little space after a throw down.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” Was her brain shorting out? She really didn’t get all of this. There were too many thoughts and questions all crammed into her mind at once. “I’d like to think about it, if that’s all right. Could I tell you in the morning?”
His eyebrows shot up to his thick hairline as if he was surprised that she was giving him a chance. “Uh, yeah. Of course. Take all the time you need.” He reached into several pockets before pulling out a small notebook and a pen. Quickly, he jotted something down and handed it to her. “That’s my number. You know, for whatever you decide.”
“Cool…”
Wow, it was awkward, but she didn’t quite know what to do. She had already closed the door on the Miller Ranch, but now this handsome, broken man was standing in front of her, wanting her to come back. It was impossible. It didn’t make any sense. And yet there he was.
“I guess I should go. It was nice to see you, Missy.”
She noted how his eyes stayed on her face, never slipping to her legs or her chest or any of the other places where people’s gazes liked to linger.
“It was nice to see you too, Bart.”
He tipped his head, and she swore she saw a bit of a blush on his cheeks as he turned to leave. Then her mouth was opening before her mind caught up, and she heard her own voice call out.
“Bart, wait!”
He turned, very obviously trying to school his features into a nonchalant expression and only succeeding partially. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what? It’s just what’s right.”
She shook her head. “For caring enough to apologize. It means a lot.”
He narrowed his eyes, licking his lips like he was trying to think of what to say next. Missy was lying if her eyes weren’t drawn to his kissable mouth, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to press her own lips against his.
“Not nearly as much as you mean to me.”
And then he was gone.
She stared after him, watching until he was out of sight, and then it was like the world rushed back to her.
“Whoa,” she said to herself. Did he really just say that to her? Not nearly as much as you mean to me?
She made it up the stairs, her mind somehow even more full than it had been before. She’d never really been into kissing. Something about someone pressing their chewing and eating organ against her chewing and eating organ while breathing all over her face just seemed gross. But with Bart… she bet it would be different.
Missy shook her head, shooing those thoughts away. He came to apologize to her because he was an amazing man trying to recover from the awful illness that made the world all-too slippery for him. That was it.
But as she wandered over to her computer, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he could be the kind of guy that she could trust.
Consciousness came to her slowly, her dreams full of questions and a sort of unsettled feeling that left her groggy. She hadn’t come to much of a conclusion, and the light of day wasn’t welcome yet.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she rubbed her chin. Was she debating because this was actually a hard decision or was she just struggling because her natural inclination to not trust people told her to run far away?
If she was completely honest with herself, she would probably say it was the latter. Which meant that she was letting fear control her, which was something she never wanted to do.
Besides, she thought about never talking to Bart again, and that made her stomach twist a bit. She knew he had plenty of support on his own, but she couldn’t help but want to be there for him.
Curious.
But she guessed she knew her answer then.
Feeling around for her phone on the floor where she had left it charging, she pulled it up and scrolled to his number. She’d programmed it into her phone the moment she was back in her apartment after talking with Bart.
Yet even with all her confidence, she found her hands shaking as she dialed each digit. It rang once, then she heard it quickly answered. For a beat, she almost hung up, but the stronger part of her placed it against her ear.
“Missy?”
It was Bart’s voice on the other line. Because who else would it be? He sounded somewhere between nervous and relieved, which did funny things to her blood pressure.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“Ah. Yes, I figured it would be. Not a lot of people call me.”
“I hope I didn’t wake you.” What was she doing? She was getting sidetracked in what should be a really simple conversation.
“No. I didn’t get a lot of sleep, so I was already up.”
“Oh, that’s not good.”
“It’s fine. It’s the weekend, so I’ll have plenty of time to nap.”
“Really? You don’t seem like the napping type.”
He laughed softly, and the sound made goosebumps rise along her arms. “I guess not.” There was another one of those awkward silences before he spoke again. “So, did you come to a decision?”
“Straight to the point, aren’t you?”
“Let’s just say, the anticipation is killing me.”
“Fair, fair.” She took a deep breath. Enough stalling. “I think I’d like to come back.”
“There was another pregnant pause. “Just think?”
“All right. I’m certain. I’d like to be back, if you’ll have me.”
“Of course, we’ll have you. That’s what the offer was all about.”
“Right. Well, I’ll see you Monday?”
She could almost hear the
smile in his tone. “I’ll see you Monday, Missy.”
She heard him start to hang up and then her mouth was blurting things again. “If you still ever need my help for anything, let me know.”
“Will do, Missy. Enjoy the rest of your time off.”
Then he hung up for real, and she was left staring at her wall, feeling a very strange sort of way. Leaning back in her bed, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was stupid for having hope that things would be different the second time around.
18
Missy
Missy hummed to herself, the radio so low it was hardly audible as she drove toward the Miller Ranch. The sun was just starting to rise, illuminating her path with gentle hues of orange, pink and lavender. It was like the world was telling her that it was trying to make up for the bad luck it was always heaping on her head.
In a way, she understood why Mrs. Miller said what she did, and Missy might have misunderstood what she was trying to say. But that wasn’t why she was going back. No, the reason for that was the sincerity of Bart’s apology. Maybe she was a fool—but given such a heartfelt sorry seemed like a good enough reason to give them another chance.
After all, she couldn’t list a single person who had ever apologized to her. She thought about all of the rumors she’d overheard in her life, or outright insults. Some of them because of her father. Some of them about her body. Some of them about her stand-offish nature once she wrote someone off. But when Bart looked at her, it was like she could forget all of that. It didn’t matter. He just saw a human.
A human that he wanted to talk to. To spend time with. He’d never tried to press a hand to her inappropriately or sneak a fondle. His eyes never lingered in the wrong place for too long. He respected her.
And that was a pretty good feeling.
She pulled up, nerves bubbling in her middle. Sure, she knew Bart was on her side, but everyone else was another question. She knew that her week-long absence had to be noticed. She didn’t really have an excuse in place and hoped that no one would ask.
Thankfully, the bruise around her neck was long gone, a figment of the past. She guessed that was one of the upsides to the way everything turned out. It had taken several days for it to disappear, and maybe with it out of sight for so many days, the rest of the workers would forget it ever existed at all.
Smoothing her hair back into her ponytail, she headed toward the barn.
The pitchfork she liked to use was waiting there like she hadn’t been gone for days. She put her earbuds in, started her music up, and got to work.
The minutes passed, shifting into an hour, and then two, and she was pleased that no one stopped her to ask any questions. Instead, there were waves and friendly smiles whenever she went to get a drink or go to the bathroom.
It was like everything was normal.
Fantastic.
It seemed like she really had made the right choice after all. She guessed that even nice ladies like Mrs. Miller could make mistakes and hurt people’s feelings more than they had meant to.
She just hoped she wouldn’t have to see Bart’s mom any time soon. Although Missy was letting go of the situation, that didn’t mean she wanted to hang out with the matriarch.
The day went by without much incident, her lunch including friendly conversation with the others in the worker’s shed. The only difference really was that she was a whole lot sorer after so many days off. Talk about a workout.
At the end of the workday when it was time to clock out, she was almost to the point of a limp. Geez, she really should have stretched. Oh well. At least no one could accuse her of trying to seduce anyone with her uneven gait.
She pulled her keys out as she got close to her truck, ready to go soak in her tub, only to see that there was someone waiting there, leaning against her cab.
“Bart?” she asked, thinking she recognized the familiar set of broad shoulders.
He turned, a grin spreading across his face. Oh wow. A woman could use a warning before he slapped one of those on her.
“Missy! How was your first day back?”
“Grueling,” she answered with a laugh. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if, you know, you’re not too tired, if you’d possibly like to—”
As much as she liked seeing him all nervous over speaking to her, she liked confident, happy Bart a lot more than the anxious version.
“It’s all right, big guy. Take a breath. I’m not going anywhere in a rush.”
He smiled gratefully to her, pausing for a moment. “I was hoping that you’d like to come back at night—like you used to.”
She raised her eyebrow. “Why?” Last time that hadn’t exactly worked out for the best and Bart seemed like the type to still not forgive himself for that.
“Well, because I have a gift for you.”
A gift? Her stomach flipped at that. “Couldn’t you just give it to me now?”
He nodded, licking his lips again. Did he have any idea how distracting that was? Probably not. She hadn’t even known that it was distracting until he’d turned up at her apartment.
“I could. But I—” another breath. “Nights are hard for me. Well, have been hard again since you left. I just thought it would be nice to…”
Missy blushed slightly. She knew what he meant. Their conversations, this strange connection they had, always seemed best when they were alone. When no one was there to judge them for whatever they said or how silly she made the conversation or how loud he laughed.
But still… was it safe? She’d just joined the family again at the ranch, what if someone caught them? She didn’t think that anyone would buy that she wasn’t up to something nefarious then, no matter how much Bart defended her.
Her eyes flicked up to him, and she saw so much hope, so much uncertainty, how could she say no? Smiling more softly, she gave him a small nod. “Sure. I’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Missy. For everything.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else, or perhaps do something else, but instead, he turned on his heel and marched back toward the main house.
Missy took a deep breath as he left, her head churning. Goodness, the world just didn’t want to slow down, did it?
Despite having made up her mind, Missy’s head had no problem listing off a million and one reasons why meeting Bart after-hours was a bad idea. But she ignored them. She ignored them as she changed into a simple pair of sweats and a T-shirt. She ignored them as she drove out of town. And as she parked. And as she hauled her butt up the same knoll with a blanket over her shoulder. If she knew anything about her conversations with Bart, they usually involved them sitting—or her laying down—on the ground, and she didn’t want to get soaked by dew.
Sure enough, he was standing there at the top of the hill, backlit by the moon and stars. It was quite a sight. Looked like one of those cheesy, romance books that her mother would read during her ultimately futile chemo treatments.
But instead of feeling derision at the cheesiness, Missy’s heart skipped a beat as she joined him.
“Hey there, soldier,” she said loudly, announcing her presence before she got into striking range. It wasn’t a good idea to startle people in general, but it was even less of a good idea to do it to someone still struggling with their PTSD.
“Not a soldier anymore,” he said, turning to face her.
Missy opened her mouth to say something but was quickly distracted by the long, narrow box in his arms.
Oh.
So, he had meant a present present. This wasn’t a metaphor for bringing her back to the ranch or giving her more hours or anything. He’d literally gotten her a gift. It was probably the most obvious interpretation of what he had said, and yet she was still surprised.
“Is that for me?” she asked, still waiting for some sort of trick.
“Do you see any other people here who’ve been grievously wronged by my family and entirely underappreciated by the world?”
Geez,
Bart knew how to lay it on when he was lucid, huh? “Well, I don’t know about grievously,” she said, feeling her cheeks color vibrantly. “But please, continue to feed my ego.”
He handed her the present, his eyes everywhere but her. “Here,” he said, thrusting it into her arms.
“Oh, thanks,” she said awkwardly, nearly dropping it but catching the edge of the parcel at the last moment. Actually, it was pretty weighty for being so slender. What could it possibly be?
“Are you gonna open it?”
“Yeah, just let me, uh…” Stuff like this was so much easier in the movies. When her fingers went to the end of the package, there was tape there, and her nails were too blunt and cracked to scratch it up. When she flipped it over, there was tape there too. Along the side… yup, more tape. “Geez, let me, I gotta,” her cheeks burned hotter as she brought her teeth to the corner of the package and ripped. There, at least there was a hole now big enough to wiggle her finger in.
“Sorry,” Bart said, his face looking as red as hers felt. “I guess I went a bit overboard with the tape.”
“Just shows that you were cautious.” Finally, she got through the wrapping to what was sealing the package then tore through that too. She was so absorbed in getting to her prize that she didn’t realize what she was looking at until her fingers wrapped around it and pulled it out.
“Is… is this a telescope?” she asked breathlessly, staring at the long cylinder in her hand.
“Yeah. I hope you like it. This is one of the reasons I wanted you to meet me at night again.”
Like it? Although Missy was more of an amateur in her stargazing, she knew a nice telescope when she saw one. This particular model was at least seven hundred dollars, and that was in used condition on some of the second-hand sites she frequented.
Had he really spent that much money on her?
That was impossible. Maybe it was already in his family. Maybe he had no idea how much it was worth.
“I have a gift receipt if you don’t like it,” he said hurriedly, handing her a folded-up piece of paper.
Well, there went the idea that this was just something that was laying around his house.