by Liz Isaacson
She’s not Ginny, he thought, but he still couldn’t bring himself to ask her to stay with him.
The waitress arrived with Gavin’s steak and Navy’s chicken, leaving them alone again with the awkwardness between them. He picked at his baked potato, his appetite completely gone.
“Did you put an offer in on that ranch?” she asked, her voice normal now.
He noticed she wasn’t eating either. “No,” he said. “Busy day.”
“But you’re going to, right?”
Gavin exhaled and set his fork down. Every emotion he’d ever felt swirled inside him. “Why do you care, Navy?”
She blinked, a slight flinch at the fight in his tone. “It’s your dream.”
“Yeah, mine.”
After a brief moment where she looked like she might cry again, she strengthened her shoulders and tossed her napkin onto the table. “Excuse me.”
“Navy,” he tried, but she stood and walked away from the table, never looking back. He couldn’t help feeling like he’d just lost everything worth having in his life.
19
Navy left the steakhouse despite Gavin’s protests. She walked through the evening heat toward the fountain several blocks south. Each step radiated her anger. Anger at herself for not being able to make a decision. Anger at Gavin for not helping her. Anger at herself for telling him she loved him. Anger at Gavin that he hadn’t repeated it back to her.
Left right, left right. Anger, anger. Anger, anger.
She arrived at the bronze centerpiece in town and gazed up at the face of Ellora Shepherd. The fight left her muscles, leaving her with only indecision. She wasn’t sure how to have everything she wanted. She’d worked in Amarillo for years. She loved her job most of the time.
But she’d come to Bride to change her life, and she’d met Gavin. Was she just supposed to throw that away? Her thoughts only brought agony, and she hated the helpless feelings plaguing her.
She dug in her purse and pulled out three shiny pennies. Rubbing her thumb along their smooth edges, she whispered, “Help me know what to do.” She tossed all the coins into the wishing well at the same time.
Navy wasn’t sure what she expected to happen. A voice from heaven? A ray of light that would form into an arrow and point her in the right direction?
The ripples in the fountain pulsed into stillness, and there was no voice. No light. No feeling.
Navy was lost, and she didn’t know what to do. Gavin’s words stung that his dreams were his, almost like he didn’t want to share them with her. She’d shared all of hers with him. Told him all about her desires to be a mother, to have a stable family life with someone she loved.
Don’t give up on him, she thought, and she wasn’t sure if it was her brain giving the direction or not.
Almost immediately afterward, she thought, You need to go back to Amarillo.
She sighed as she turned from the statue and the fountain. A giggly brunette practically skipped up the sidewalk to the statue, and she leaned her weight into both hands on the fence surrounding the statue.
Laughing, she tilted her head toward the sky. “I made it. I finally made it.”
Navy watched her for a moment, complete in her happiness to be in Bride, where she probably thought all her dreams would come true.
Bitterness coated her throat, and her salad threatened to make another appearance. Navy turned away from the woman, seeing her own immaturity in thinking a legend, a statue, and a dance could bring her true love.
But maybe it did.
Navy didn’t acknowledge the thought. She pulled out her phone and called Karen, her boss at the hospital. When she answered, Navy said, “I need three days to get back into town. Will that work?”
Karen squealed and then sighed, her relief and excitement evident in those two gestures. “Yes, can you come in on Sunday morning?”
Navy sighed. “Yes, but then I get a month of Sundays off.”
“Deal. See you soon.” Karen hung up, and Navy stood on Main Street in Bride, realizing that while she hadn’t made many friends here, she did love the town. A bus pulled out of the station—probably the vehicle that had delivered the bubbly brunette to town—filling the air with the scent of diesel fuel.
Navy glanced down the block to the steakhouse, where she imagined she could see Gavin sitting in his truck. Her heart felt like someone was trying to jam it into a narrow-necked bottle. She wanted to go back to the restaurant. Apologize. Kiss him and tell him she’d show up to their wedding, and she’d love to raise their family at the ranch in Dripping Springs.
But her tongue thickened in her mouth, the words she wanted to say disappearing. She turned in the opposite direction. Her future wasn’t in Bride, Texas. And she knew it. So she stepped into the crosswalk and started toward the bus station. She bypassed it and eventually made it back to her cottage.
Almost instantly, Gavin texted. You make it home?
Yes. She pressed her phone to her chest, a flood of tears heating her face, trickling from her eyes. I’m going back to Amarillo tomorrow. I’m sorry, Gavin, but my future isn’t here in Bride.
She wanted to say more, but she didn’t know how. The words didn’t come. So she left it at that, sent the message, and turned off her phone. Her movements after that came mechanically as she folded shirts and put them in her suitcase. She vacuumed, swept, mopped. She paused with her hand on the walls Gavin had reclaimed and beautified.
“Thank you for my time here,” she whispered hours later when she finally fell into bed. “I wish I had more.”
The next morning, Navy stepped up to the ticket window at the bus station. The light was still gray it was so early, but she knew the sun would rise in only thirty minutes, painting everything in glorious shades of gold, orange, and white. And the heat would come with it.
“Amarillo,” she said when it was her turn.
“That bus leaves in twenty minutes,” the attendant said. “you better hurry.”
Navy passed over her debit card, her pulse racing. “When’s the next one?”
“Monday.”
She couldn’t stay here for four more days. Her thoughts would eat her up, and she wouldn’t be able to stay away from Gavin, though that was clearly what he wanted. Room to live his own dreams. Room to think. Room without her in it.
With the ticket in her hand, she hurried as quickly as she could with her baggage to the loading area. The driver helped her stuff it in the little remaining space, and she got on the bus with her purse to find that nearly every seat had been taken. She managed to find one next to a man that smelled more like cologne than anything else. Flashing him a smile, her reality hit her.
Tears fell, and she sniffled loudly.
“You okay, darlin’?” the man asked. He was probably near her father’s age and wore a similar style of cowboy hat to Gavin’s.
“No,” she said, fumbling through her purse for a tissue. The woman across the aisle handed her one, and Navy gratefully took it. “I came to Bride to find a man, but—well, that’s not true. I mean, it is.” She buried her head in her hands, her words making no sense even to her.
“Tell us all about it,” the woman said, and Navy didn’t need any further encouragement. She started at the very beginning, with Aunt Izzie and Uncle Marvin.
By the time the bus approached Fort Worth, where Gus and Bridgette were getting off, Navy had the attention of at least a dozen people. She’d told the whole story of her life over the past three months. One older woman kept dabbing her eyes, and Navy felt a special kinship for her as she’d claimed to have met her husband in Bride many years ago. He’d since passed away.
“So, there it is.” She heaved a deep breath. “I’m going back to Amarillo, and he’s buying a ranch.”
Bridgette shook her head. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I do,” Gus said. “You should figure out how to get back down to Dripping Springs.”
“It’s not always that easy,” Bridgette said with
a sharp look in her eye.
“Oh, you,” another woman said, swatting at Gus with a irate expression. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.”
“That’s why you should listen to me,” Gus said. “Don’t listen to Lena. She never did get married.” He added the last bit in a hushed voice that wasn’t meant to be quiet.
Lena practically lunged over the top of the seat, her fist making solid contact with Gus’s shoulder. He only laughed. “We’re all headed to Fort Worth for a family reunion,” he explained. “Seems like I’m gettin’ the fighting over before we even get there.”
Navy settled back into her seat as the bus slowed and made turns through the city to the station. Activity happened as they pulled in as people collected their bags and trash.
“Don’t worry, Navy,” Bridgette said. “I believe God will put you where you should be.”
Similar sentiments were given by the others who’d tuned into her sob story, and she even gave a few hugs to a few of the ladies before they exited the bus. With about half the people still on board, Navy settled into Gus’s seat next to the window and leaned her forehead against the glass.
You should figure out how to get back down to Dripping Springs. His words wouldn’t leave her head. And Bridgette had been right too. Things weren’t always so black and white. So cut and dried.
Navy was so tired thinking about it. She closed her eyes and put in her headphones, hoping that loud music and the rhythmic movement of the bus would put her thoughts to bed.
Lynn met her at the bus station with a wide smile and a huge hug. Navy held on tightly to her friend, grateful she’d left her own family in order to help Navy.
“Thank you,” she said, the tears so close to the surface they spilled out again.
Lynn held her at arm’s length, her eyes concerned and searching Navy’s. “Oh, honey, you fell in love with him.”
Navy didn’t try to deny it. She nodded as a fresh flood of water washed down her cheeks. Nothing seemed like it would ever be right again. She wasn’t sure how the sun was still shining or how people were walking down the streets of Amarillo as if nothing had happened. Everything in Navy’s world felt off-kilter.
“Come on,” Lynn said from beside her. “This calls for pizza and ice cream. Roy’s taken the kids to a movie, so I’m not expected to be home for hours.”
Navy let her best friend navigate her to her car, let her order the cheesiest pizza and the biggest Diet Coke that Freddy’s Pizza offered. Lynn talked through most of dinner, and Navy ate only because her friend was watching her with those hawk eyes. The crust tasted like cardboard, and the cheese seemed too gloppy to be as delicious as Navy usually found it.
“This is bad,” Lynn said.
“It is bad,” Navy said. “Someone said I should figure out how to get back to Dripping Springs, but—”
“Wait. Dripping Springs?”
“Yeah, Gavin’s found a ranch there.”
A smile the size of the Grand Canyon filled Lynn’s face. She sat back in her chair, her dark hair fluttering around her face. “Oh this is perfect.”
“It is?”
“Didn’t you text me that your future wasn’t in Bride?”
“Yeah,” Navy said, reaching for the unappetizing pizza slice on her plate. She couldn’t bring herself to put it in her mouth. “And it’s not, Lynn. I felt it.” She wished she hadn’t. Wished God had directed her in a different way in that regard. But He seemed to be silent on everything else except for that.
“Well, that’s all fine,” Lynn said. “Because you’re not going to be living in Bride.”
“No, I’m not.” Navy put the pizza down and signaled the waiter to come over. He did, and she asked, “Do you have any salads?”
“Sure. Caesar, chopped vegetable with chicken, and Cobb.”
“I’ll take the chopped. No chicken though. With ranch dressing.”
He nodded and left, and a bit of normality crept into Navy at the thought of eating her despair through a salad.
“No, you’re not,” Lynn said, that smile starting to annoy Navy. “Because you’re going to be living in Dripping Springs. With Gavin Redd, and if I may quote from one of your texts….” She lifted her phone as if she really was going to read from their text stream. “One of the hottest cowboys Texas has ever produced.”
A giggle jumped from Navy’s mouth. “I did not say that.”
Lynn stared at the phone for an extra moment. “On July fifth, to be exact.” She turned the phone for Navy to check.
Instead of looking at Lynn’s screen, despair clouded her vision. “Do you really think I can go back? What would that even look like?”
“Do you love him or not?”
“Yes.” Navy sighed.
“Then you go talk to Karen to take care of your job here. I mean, you might need to find something down there, and Karen could write you a great letter of recommendation. Don’t burn any bridges, you know? Then you find out when he’ll be in Dripping Springs, and you get on down there and surprise him.”
“Sure, surprise him.” Navy leaned forward as the waiter set her salad in front of him. “So tell me how Finn is doing. Wasn’t he going through a bit of depression?” With the topic of Lynn’s fifteen-year-old on the table, Navy was able to turn the conversation away from her.
Surprise him floated through her mind even after Lynn dropped her off at her stale, empty apartment. At least she had somewhere to stay that wasn’t filled with her mother’s questions and her sister’s perfection. She’d have to face them soon enough, but she wasn’t looking forward to it.
All she could think was surprise him. How could she even do that?
20
Gavin stared after the bus as it went down the street. He’d been five minutes too late. Five blasted minutes. If only he hadn’t stopped by Navy’s cottage. He’d found it empty—and it was more than physically empty. Sure, there were still couches and all the dishes and the bed she’d slept in for three months.
But he’d known as soon as he’d opened the door that she was gone, because her spirit wasn’t there. Gavin could feel the void everywhere, and he hated how things had ended with them. Him calling her name as she stomped out of the steakhouse, her salad only half gone. He’d never get that image out of his head.
Frustration frothed in his veins. He’d texted her several times. Called her twice. Without an answer, he’d had no choice but to hunt her down. The bus rounded the corner, and she was truly gone.
Gone.
He wiped his hand through his hair and put his cowboy hat back on properly. It had nearly fallen off in his haste to get to the loading area. He returned to his truck, where all three dogs waited for him, panting up a storm.
He took them to the bark park, where they ran and drank a lot of water. Where he stewed over what to do next. He wasn’t sure how to keep functioning with this massive hole in his chest, but he’d done it before. He could do it again.
Couldn’t he?
With the dogs loaded up, he drove slowly back toward his grandparents’ house. As he passed the Old Main Hill Bed & Breakfast, the wild thought to purchase it instead of the ranch swam through his mind.
But everything about the idea felt false. He even squirmed in his seat. “I should buy the ranch,” he said aloud to himself. And that sat right in his gut, the same way his decision to come to Bride and take care of his grandparents had all those years ago.
He set the dogs to go about their business in the yard and hurried into his house to find the folder Stephanie-the-Realtor had given him. He dialed her, and opened with, “I want to buy One Man Ranch. What do I do next?”
She’d told him her future wasn’t in Bride, and he’d always known his wasn’t either. He’d even texted that to her. He wondered if she’d read the message, deleted it sight unseen, blocked his number, or what.
Stephanie led him through the steps to get funding, and the next month brought new and unique challenges to Gavin as
he tried to prove he could financially afford the five hundred acre ranch, as he dealt with his feelings for an absent Navy, as he had to arrange Grandmother’s and Granddad’s transition of care.
Aunt Ally wasn’t set to arrive until the end of October, but Gavin was hoping to be long gone by then. He couldn’t stand to see any more flirtatious women at The Stable, or lingering around the bark park after they’d come into town on the bus.
“Garage is done,” he announced to Blue one afternoon in mid-September. He pulled the door down and latched it. “We have to clear out tomorrow, guys. The carpet cleaners are coming.” Blue, Misfit, and Miles looked at him like he had abandoned them when Navy had left town. “Why the sad faces? I told you we’re all goin’ to Dripping Springs. Then we’ll call Navy and see if she’ll come too.” He clapped his hands together to get some of the loose dust off them and crouched to scrub Blue’s head and neck.
“And if she won’t answer, we’ll go up to Amarillo and find her,” he added darkly.
“She won’t answer.”
Gavin turned to find Grandmother sitting in the shade on his front porch, a stone’s throw from where he’d been talking to himself. They’d briefly discussed Navy’s abrupt departure from Bride, and Grandmother had cautioned him to give her a bit of time.
As he approached the porch, he wondered if six weeks was enough time. It felt like six decades to Gavin. “Why won’t she answer?” he asked.
“She’s still trying to figure herself out.” Grandmother’s needle went in and out of the fabric in her lap. “Once she does, she’ll come find you.”
“So I’m just supposed to wait until she comes?”
Grandmother shrugged, but with her shoulders so bowed and round, it was hard to tell.
Gavin exhaled as he sat in the chair beside her. “I don’t want to wait.”
Grandmother glanced up, a curious, far-away look on her face. “A waiting person is a patient person.” She went back to her sewing as if she hadn’t spoken at all. A moment later, she looked at Gavin as if she hadn’t seen him sit down. “Oh, Granddad is making ribs for dinner. He’s over there dry rubbing right now.” She chuckled as if the thought of Granddad massaging spices into pork was funny.