by Emerson Rose
In my car I melt into the seat and take out my phone to switch off the airplane mode. When I do a string of text messages appear on my screen. One after another they pop up, each one dinging until I get the last one, which was the first one sent, and open it up.
My heart accelerates when I see there are fifteen messages in all and every one of them is from Stella. Shit, what’s happening?
I open the first one that was sent almost immediately after I boarded in Montana.
Stella – Are you insane?
Stella – I saw you
Stella – And BEAU HILL!
Stella – Going into the bathroom together
She likes to separate her text messages when she’s mad for the greatest impact.
Stella – You’re still seeing him? You know he’s a womanizing player who never sleeps with the same woman more than a hand full of times right?
Stella – He has become positively famous for it. He’s fucked every single woman in a hundred mile radius other than me of course. Please God tell me you used protection. And please tell me you don’t have feelings for him.
There are more, nine to be exact but I stop reading them when tears spring to my eyes and blur my vision. This can’t be happening, he seemed so genuine, so real. He helped my family, stuck his neck out for us, how could I have been so stupid? Beau is a player and he played me right out of my clothes and into his bed, a handful of times.
He is never coming to see me. He fed me a bunch of lies and I ate them up like an innocent little girl right down to the last minute in the airport.
I knew I should have listened to that voice in my head that said this guy is too amazing, too sexy, too hot and too good to be true. Now on top of finals, graduation and sitting for the NAVLE exam I have to heal my broken heart.
I close my eyes, hot tears stream down my cheeks and I slump down into my seat and pull my knees up to my chest. I’m too exhausted to let go and cry properly. This has been a serious rollercoaster of a week with Beau and the tornado sucking me dry of my emotions. And now I have to buckle down and catch up on what I missed at school while I was gone.
So much for finding a happy medium. I think I’ll play it safe and go back to being a hermit who only talks to animals. Low level of risk, high level of safety, boring, mundane, guarded and uninjured, that is the real me. That’s the me I was before I went home and gave a stranger my most prized possession. The one thing I can’t get back and it wasn’t my virginity, it was my heart.
20
Silence
Beau
Constance is an undiscovered actress and an all-around gem. Mom loves her. She hasn’t suspected once that she was hired as a nurse and not a housekeeper. Probably because she keeps the house cleaner than it’s ever been and she lets mom help.
Even dad likes her, he won’t admit it out loud but I can tell in the way he gives her free reign in the house and speaks to her with respect.
Now me on the other hand, that’s a different story. Dad is still pissed that I told the Deardon’s about the land and he’s more pissed that they are living in Carmen’s house. I thought he was gonna have a stroke and die when he passed Jake and Sarah Deardon on the road to the airstrip.
We were going to fly up to Westfair Ranch and visit John Westfair, an old family friend and fellow rancher, who broke his hip falling off his horse when the twister hit. Somethin spooked the horse and he went down, not a good scenario for any rancher but especially dangerous when that rancher is eighty years old.
Breakin’ a hip can be a death sentence if it’s not handled right and dad wanted to make sure it was being handled right.
But we never made it off the ground. He started cursing and yelling and throwing his arms around like a mental patient that just escaped an institution. I thought this family feud thing would be easier to bury but after seeing dad melt down like that I know it’s going to be an up hill battle all the way, pun intended.
Dad’s meltdown was downright disturbing, but nothing is as disturbing to me as Charlotte’s silence. It’s been four days of complete radio silence. No text’s, not even to tell me she made it home safe after I specifically asked her to do that. No phone calls, even though I’ve left her a million messages. I even tried social media and email but nada. I was so worried at one point I called the college to find out where she lived and asked someone to go check on her. I had to lie and say I was her dad and she hadn’t been in communication with her mom and I for days, but it was worth it to know she was okay and she was.
That’s when I realized how little I know about this woman, who has me all tied up in knots. I don’t even have her address. Or at least I didn’t but I do now and I’m going there to find out what the hell is going on.
Something’s spooked my princess and I have to find out what it is. A spooked horse’s instinct is to flee or shy away when it’s scared, and that’s what she’s doing.
The first rule of calming a spooked horse is to approach with care. Second is to reassure the horse and third calm her.
I’m prepared to do all three until we understand each other and the lines of communication are wide open and flowing freely. I will not leave until we’re good.
It’s Saturday afternoon and my flight leaves at five. I’ll arrive in Iowa at eleven p.m. and drive another hour to Ames, where I will spend the night in a hotel. I don’t want to show up in the middle of the night. That is the opposite of approaching with care.
But first thing Sunday morning I’ll be at her door to iron this mess out. I knew I was going to miss her when she left, hell she didn’t even make it out of the airport before I proved that. But not being able to touch her for days, not hearing her sweet voice or even reading her sassy texts has been pure hell.
I’ve got it bad for Charlotte Deardon and I can’t let whatever misunderstanding this is, destroy the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
My bag is packed and waiting by the front door, dad thinks I’m going to a conference about new cattle feed options in Texas and I just sent Charlotte a text telling her that I’ll be there tomorrow. She won’t answer it, she hasn’t answered any of my text for days but I don’t want her to say I showed up without telling her I was coming.
I lay my phone down on the kitchen island and resume putting the clean dishes away so I can get going. I’ve been staying in my house since Charlotte left because my bed smells like her and I like it and because Constance is working out so well.
There’s a rap at the door and I stop with a bowl half way to the cupboard in front of me. I’m not expecting anyone and no one ever just stops by. I set the bowl on the counter and go to the front door. When I swing it open I find Carmen standing there with one hip out and her thumbs hooked in the front pockets of her jeans.
I scowl, “Carmen, what are you doing here?”
“Came to see if you were okay after the storm.” She drags her eyes down my body pausing in various places of interest and back to my face. “You’re lookin better than okay.”
I shake my head, “I thought I told you never to come back here when I found you and my dad fucking.”
She lifts her hand and waves it dismissively, “Oh that’s ancient history lover, you know we didn’t have anything exclusive. You were just sore because it was your daddy, anybody else and you would have told us to have fun.” She’s right, that is what pissed me off and I am still angry about it, not as much since I met Charlotte, but still mad.
My arm is stretched out blocking her from entering, but I don’t plan on her ducking down and going under but that’s what she does. Before I know it she’s sitting on the island in my kitchen swinging her booted feet back and forth holding onto the edge of the counter.
“Carmen, I’m busy. I don’t have time for this right now.”
She rolls her eyes and presses her ample breasts together between her upper arms. She’s wearing a white wife beater with tighter than tight jeans that hug her curves and snake skin cowboy boots. I know for a fact that so
me oil tycoon from Texas that she was fucking bought her those boots. That’s where Carmen gets most of the expensive things she owns, by fucking rich men. I didn’t used to judge her for that, I didn’t care what or who she did, still don’t. But now when I look at her all I see is an opportunist, an emotionless vessel moving through her life with no anchor or purpose.
Charlotte made me understand that. Without even trying she has become my anchor, my purpose in life.
“Oh come on.” She pushes out her thick bottom lip and drags out the word, on, like a whiny teenager. “It’s been a long time, I miss you.”
“I told you I’m busy. I also told you not to come back to Whiskey Hill, ever.”
“I was worried.” A mischievous smile turns the corners of her mouth up and I roll my eyes. “Yeah, real worried, so worried you took a week to check up on me. You got a rodeo nearby or something?”
“Well, yeah. But I came as soon as I could, I didn’t have a ride until now.”
“Hate to tell ya but it was a wasted trip. I’m on my way out and dad’s at home with my mom, his wife.”
She sucks in a deep breath and blows it out hard, clearly irritated when my phone rings. I’m still holding the door open and the phone is right next to Carmen’s leg.
She looks down at the glowing screen and then up at me. I swear to god she sees the panic in my eyes and purposely snatches it up before I can close the distance between the door and the island.
“Hello, Carmen speaking, Beau can’t come to the phone right now, maybe I can help you. Hello? Helllloo…” I grab the phone from her hand and see one missed call from Charlotte in a little blue bubble. Fuck!
Charlotte was already dealing with something that I haven’t figured out. Now she thinks I’m spending time with Carmen.
“Fuck, Carmen, what the hell is wrong with you? I was waiting for that call, it was important.”
“More important than me?”
“Yes, Carmen, believe it or not there are a lot of things more important than you.”
“Like Charlotte?”
“Yes, Charlotte!” I roar and slam the door so hard the pictures on the walls rattle. She jumps and stares at me with wide surprised eyes. I’ve never raised my voice with her other than yelling out her name during sex.
There aren’t many things in my life that upset me to the point of yelling, but Carmen fucking up my relationship with Charlotte is one of them.
“Wow, the infamous playboy Beau Hill has fallen in love. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Well you have, and I do love her, so you can take your meddling ass off my counter and go find someone else to pester.”
I love her. I didn’t know that until I just said it. I’ve never been in love so I didn’t recognize it.
Her mouth pops open to say something but she changes her mind and closes it. Good. I don’t want to hear another word.
She hops down off the counter never taking her eyes off of me. I open the door and watch her leave for the last time. As soon as she’s cleared the threshold I slam the door again and go for my phone.
I hit redial knowing she won’t answer but I have to try. She doesn’t answer so I text.
Me -- That wasn’t what you think, she showed up out of the blue and answered my phone. I’m still coming.
Charlotte – Don’t.
She’s communicating, finally, thank god.
Me – I’m coming.
Charlotte – I won’t be here.
Me – I’ll wait.
Charlotte – Don’t come.
I’m getting pissed with this conversation, if you can even call it that. I want an explanation and she’s going to give me one.
Me – You won’t talk to me on the phone and I want to know why. I’m coming. I’ll wait for as long as it takes.
I wait for fifteen minutes for her to reply, nothing, silence. Fucking Carmen. Grabbing my suitcase I abandon my dishes and storm out the door to go to the airport. The sooner I leave, the sooner I get this shit sorted out with Charlotte, and the sooner I get my hands back on her sexy ass. And I want my hands on her sexy ass.
21
Boring, safe broken hearted, veterinarian, hermit
Charlotte
I was right, so right. Beau was the worst kind of player, the charming do-gooder kind who made you believe without a shadow of a doubt that he cares when he doesn’t.
He may have stuck his neck out to help my family find a home but he did it to crash my gate. Stupid me thought he was the one, he felt like the one but that’s because he is a professional player and that’s what he wanted me to feel.
Proof positive; his ex, whatever she is, that he built a house on his land for answered his phone when I called. Part of me called him to make it clear that I didn’t want him to come here after I read his text. That was strength talking and strength is smart.
Another part called him because I want him to come here, god I do. But that was weakness talking and when Carmen answered his phone for him, weakness shut the hell up.
Now I have to figure out where I’m going to stay while he “waits for as long as it takes” to talk to me because I am not talking to him. It was crazy difficult to ignore his phone calls and text messages, it was even hard to ignore his emails. But I managed it by filling every second of my time studying and working at the clinic.
Seeing Beau in person would be infinitely more difficult, and I know that stupid bitch, weakness, would show her face and that would be that.
No, I cannot, will not, see Beau in person. I pick up my phone and dial the only person I’ve allowed to penetrate my troll like existence over the past four years, Mitch Mason.
Mitch is an animal loving computer nerd who works with me at the vet clinic. He’s two years behind me in school but he’s a genius and doesn’t have to work for his 4.0 GPA, at all.
He is also not the kind of person I would have given the time of day to in high school, which made him the perfect person to give the time of day to in college.
I live in an apartment complex off campus, way off campus, because it’s cheap. Mitch’s family is wealthy beyond belief and he lives in a beautiful house very close to school so he doesn’t have to bother with a car. I’ve studied at his place before, or more like, I’ve been tutored by Mitch at his place before so I know he has extra bedrooms sitting empty.
Now, Mitch is the kind of guy who is smart and wealthy but he is socially awkward and I am about to take advantage of that and ask him to let me stay in one of his empty rooms. He won’t say no because I’m pretty, and as socially awkward as he is, he would like people to think that he isn’t, and having me stay with him will do wonders for his reputation.
He answers my call on the first ring, “Hey, Mitch.”
“Hi Charlotte, why are you calling me?” See? Socially awkward.
“I need a favor.”
“Um, uh, okay, tutoring again?”
“No, this doesn’t have anything to do with school. My apartment is being exterminated over the next couple of days and I need a place to stay. Can I crash with you?”
“Exterminated for what?”
Shit, I didn’t count on him asking any questions, but I guess I wouldn’t want anyone bringing unwelcome critters into my beautiful house while their place was being exterminated either.
“It’s preventive, you know, the landlord wants to make sure we don’t have a breakout of something.” A breakout of something, that was stupid, sounds like everyone in my complex is going to get acne.
“Preventive. A breakout?”
“Yeah, it’s stupid I know but I don’t have any place to go. Is it okay to stay with you?” I say in a rush trying to make him forget the stupid exterminator story.
“Yes.” And that’s Mitch, a man of few words.
“Are you home now?”
“Yes.”
“I have to go to the library for a while, can I come over around six?”
“Yes.”
I chuckle, I don�
�t know if he’s in shock, distracted or still thinking about bugs but he isn’t adding to the conversation or elaborating so I tell him goodbye. I grab my backpack and my overnight bag and make sure to lock my door so no manipulative, playboy, womanizing man named Beau Hill can come in and wait for my return.
On my way to the library I stop and get a snickers candy bar and a bottle of water to smuggle in. I’m running low on cash after paying for my flight home and back so peanuts are my protein, chocolate is my sugar and water is my hydration.
I wonder how long a person could exist on snickers and water? A long ass time I imagine and that’s good because I still have seven weeks of school left and I’m broke.
Later when I’m lying in bed in one of Mitch’s guest bedrooms staring out the window at the full moon I have second thoughts about hiding out. If Beau is a player, and he is, and he only helped my family to get into my pants, which he did, why would he fly all the way to Iowa to see me?
I hold up my phone and scroll through our text messages from earlier today and deduce that he was probably bluffing to get me to take his calls. He just wants to touch base, make sure things are okay between us so he will get his full time veterinarian and fuck buddy when I graduate.
Well he can suck it. I’m not going home to Montana; Iowa is home for me now. I already accepted the full time veterinarian position the clinic offered me. I start when I graduate and pass the NAVLE. (North American Veterinary License Exam)
I haven’t told mom and dad about that yet. They will be disappointed that I’m not coming home, but there isn’t anything there for me anymore. I don’t know what they have planned for the future but it’s not running our family ranch. It’s gone and I sure as hell am not working for Beau at the Whiskey Hill Ranch and there is no way I’m living in his house. Ever.