Chapter Seven

Charlotte

 

Damn, how could I have been so stupid?

The ride home from Owen’s was uncomfortable, to say the least. When I finally made it home, I stripped at the front door, tossing my dirty clothes in a pile on the front porch before heading inside. Why did I let him get to me again? He was a player, and that’s all he’d ever be.

“Oh, I think he’s gonna be calling you,” Tracy’s voice echoed in my head. Yeah, of course you believed he would be, because you twisted his arm, and probably threatened him, or worse, made him feel sorry for me. Ugh!

I turned on the shower, adjusted the water to hot, and then stepped inside. The water rolled down my hair, leaving a dirty mess at my feet as the rest of the mud finally released from my curls. It felt good to wash it all away. To wash Owen away.

Those beautiful, blue eyes taunted me every time I closed my own. The last image of him, standing there with no clothes on as I drove off, tore through my mind, and the way he made me feel caused my body to quiver each time I let myself remember. Why did he have to be so damn amazing?

I was so mad at Tracy, for whatever she’d said or done to make him call. I’d rather he hadn’t called me than to let me go through this all over again. Was it a game to him, a joke? I couldn’t even fathom what he truly thought of me.

I washed every nook and cranny of my body, finding mud in almost all of them. My hair had to be shampooed twice to get the tangles out, and extra conditioner combed through with my fingers to moisturize it back from where the mud and the sun dried it out. I started to laugh as I remembered how funny Owen had looked being thrown from Duke and into the mud hole. My cheeks hurt as I pushed the laugh back down, deep inside, and away from my mind. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed, over the drama of dealing with Owen. I had more important things to do with my life, like find a job. Mr. Thompson needed my help with a pregnant mare later in the week, so at least that was some money to pair with the unemployment that I was finally receiving.

As I thought about the job at hand with the mare, my mind immediately drifted to Carlos. I couldn’t help but wonder if Owen would be able to get him to eat like I had. I’d thought about stopping by a couple days after I’d stormed off, but figured it was best to leave it alone. I didn’t want him to think it had anything to do with him, even though a part of me did still want to see him.

I updated my resume, sent it out to a few local animal shelters, vet offices, and even another zoo that was just about a two hour commute. I decided if I didn’t find something soon, I would start looking further out, and even move if I had to.

Tracy tried calling several times that week, but I didn’t want to talk to her. I was mad, hurt, and a little embarrassed by the entire ordeal. We were best friends, so I knew I’d have to speak to her eventually. When my phone rang as I started out the door to Mr. Thompson’s, I figured it was a good time to answer. “Hey, Tracy,” I said quickly, rushing to my car.

“Why haven’t you answered me?” her voice was filled with panic.

I was sure she’d spoken to Owen, and she knew exactly why I hadn’t answered, otherwise she would’ve been over here checking to see if I was still alive.

“I’ve been busy,” I said calmly.

“Bullshit,” she snapped.

Aha, there ya go. You knew why, so why even ask?

“What do you want? I’m on my way to Mr. Thompson’s,” I said quickly.

I started my car, backed out onto the road, and plugged my phone into the Bluetooth speaker.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked.

“I’m irritated. But I’ll get over it.”

“I was only trying to help,” she pleaded.

“By turning me into a charity case?” I laughed sarcastically.

The roads were dark, and it started to drizzle, making it even harder to see. “I didn’t,” she protested.

“You told him about my job, and then ordered him to call me,” I snapped.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. That silence told me I was right. “So, how did you make him call? Pity, or threats?” I asked.

“He really likes you,” she insisted.

“Oh, yeah. He liked me so much he didn’t call me until you threatened him, right?” I laughed.

“That’s not true,” she said, but I knew it was.

“I really thought we connected, Tracy. You made me look like a fool,” I said, tears beginning to well up in my eyes.

I reached down to pull the plug from the speaker and hang up the phone. My eyes were filling up quick, and I needed my other hand to wipe my face. As I let go of the wheel, I heard a loud horn. “Charlotte!” Tracy’s voice called out through the phone as I swerved to miss the semi headed my way. As I pulled my car back into its own lane, I lost control, and was unable to regain it quickly enough.

I let out a scream as I frantically turned the wheel and slammed on the brakes at the same time. I panicked, and the end result was me heading for a tree.

My eyes opened to bright white lights shining above me. I could hear people stirring around me, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Charlotte. Can you hear me?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

I looked up; opening my eyes hurt. A woman with a face mask on, with dark hair pulled into a pony tail, was leaning over me. I could barely see her thin mask move as she spoke. “Yes,” I said with a sore throat.

“It may hurt to talk. You had a breathing tube in when you arrived,” the woman in the mask said in a soft, kind voice.

“Arrived?” I asked, confused.

The last thing I remembered was fighting with Tracy. Then—oh God, the semi, the tree…. “Am I dead?”

The woman over me laughed, and her eyes brightened. “No. You’re in the hospital, though.”

Everything hurt. My toes, my back, even my teeth.

“You were in an accident. Do you remember?” she asked.

I nodded instead of talking.

“You have a broken arm, a couple fractured ribs, but you’re gonna be fine,” she said sweetly. “Is there anyone we can call?” she asked.

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. My parents were too old, this would scare them to death, and I didn’t have anyone else. I thought about Owen for a split second, but quickly pushed him out of my mind. “No,” I said, swallowing my pain and pushing back my tears.

“Your arm is broken pretty badly. We have a surgeon coming in to operate, but we’ll need to keep you here overnight,” she said.

It didn’t matter.

“Mr. Thompson,” I mumbled as she pushed another dose of pain killers through my IV.

“Mr. Thompson?” she asked.

I was fading quickly. I remember nodding, at least I think I did. Then, I was out.

“Good morning, Charlotte,” said a sweet older woman who was standing over my bed. She wore blue scrubs, similar to the ones the other nurse had been wearing the first time I had come to. I was in a room, not the ER, and the sun was shining through my window. “How long have I been out?” I asked, my throat still sore, but better.

“At least twelve hours,” she said.

I felt relief swarm over me. I was afraid it’d been days. I was so dazed, so confused, I was still piecing everything together. “There is a visitor outside waiting to see you,” the nurse said.

My heart jumped at the thought of it possibly being Owen, but I knew I hadn’t told anyone to call him. There would be no reason he’d come looking for me, so I calmed down. “Sure,” I said softly.

I rolled over to my side so I could scoot myself up on the bed with my good arm. It ached, causing me to groan. The nurse quickly moved toward me, returning me to my back and telling me to stay put. “The surgeon will be here shortly.”

She disappeared from my room, and within a few minutes, Tracy appeared. “Charlotte, I was so worried about you,” she said, rushing to my side.

I groaned with pain as she plopped on my bed. She quickly jumped up. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything,” she said.

“It’s okay,” I said with a smile.

“I promise you that I pushed him, but only because I knew he liked you, really liked you,” she said, returning to the topic that almost got me killed.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said.

“It does. It does matter. He thought you just wanted a one-night stand. A night to forget about Bobby. That’s why he didn’t chase after you,” she pleaded.

“He’s been hurt before. He knows what it feels like to be cheated on, lied to, betrayed,” she added.

He’d never mentioned any other woman, so I assumed there had never been one, at least not one that had meant anything to him. I was certain there were plenty of one-night stands, though. Like me.

“He’d kill me if he knew I told you this,” she said softly.

I was suddenly interested in what she had to say. My heart ached for Owen, and I needed to know there was a reason he let me down, any reason.

“He was engaged to his high school sweetheart. She was royal bitch, beauty queen snob. He worshipped her and worked his ass off to give her everything she wanted. When he bought that farm as a wedding gift, she threw a fit, telling him she’d rather die than live on a farm. He was putting it up for sale, his dream. He was giving it up for her, but thankfully, he caught her in the barn fucking one of the farm hands before the sale was finalized,” Tracy whispered so the nurses couldn’t hear.

“Is that true?” I asked.

She nodded. “Please, don’t tell him I told you.”

I shook my head. I had no reason to throw her under the bus with Owen. Besides, I certainly didn’t want to bring up anything that would hurt him.

“I had to push him, Char. He didn’t know how you felt, but I knew if you stayed that night, you must have really liked him,” she added.

I smiled, opened my arms, and screamed as Tracy leaned in to give me a hug. “I’m sorry,” she stammered, pulling away quickly.

I laughed, but that hurt too. “Mr. Thompson,” I said abruptly, remembering I needed to let him know what happened.

“I already handled it,” Tracy said.

“How?” I asked, wondering who else could’ve helped with the pregnant mare on such short notice.

“I sent Owen,” she said.

“How’s the mare and foal?” I asked.

She smiled. “They are doing great. Owen wanted me to tell you that Carlos is eating now, and to thank you for what you did,” she said.

“Is he here?” I asked.

Her face changed to a sad expression as she shook her head. “I’m sorry. He isn’t.”

“Good morning, Charlotte. You ready to get this arm patched up?” The question has come from a man with a white coat as he entered my room.

Dr. Jack, his tag read. I wasn’t ready. I wanted to talk to Owen. To tell him I was sorry for storming out. “How long will this take?” I asked frantically.

“You have somewhere pressing to be?” he asked with a laugh.

I looked at Tracy, giving her the look that hopefully said everything I needed to before the nurse wheeled my bed out of the room and down the hall. “It’ll all be okay,” she said, blowing me a kiss as I was pushed into the elevator.