“I think you’d be surprised by how well things are going, Haley. Maybe you should come back.” It’s Hannah again, trying to use her subtle manipulations to get me to come home.

“I can’t get away right now, but maybe for Christmas.”

Thanksgiving is still a couple weeks away. Surely I can milk that “maybe Christmas” thing for another month. I just need to buy some more time, time to heal before I tackle the future.

Since I broke my ten-year absence from the ranch, it’ll be harder for me to stay away without going into great detail about why I don’t want to return this time. I can’t use the same excuse I have for the last decade, and I really don’t want to get into the subject of Nixon with my siblings right now. Certainly not with my father. So I’ll keep putting them off until I can’t put them off any longer. Then I’ll have to decide what to do.

But today’s not that day.

“He’s not even here you know.”

My heart drops into my stomach. Hannah is aware of some of the things that transpired, but even she doesn’t know how bad it is on my end. She doesn’t know I fell in love with him, nor do I plan to tell her any time soon. I don’t think I could stand to hear the pity in her voice or to hear the “you’re gonna be all right” speech.

So I play dumb. “Who?”

“Nixon of course.”

“Why would that matter?”

“Oh, God! You’re seriously not playing it this way, are you? With me?”

“I’m not playing anything. I wasn’t sure if you meant Nixon or Jason.”

“Ewwww. I definitely didn’t mean Jason. He’s not welcome here. Ever.”

“You don’t feel the same way about Nixon?”

“Ummm. Not really.”

“Well you should. He’s just as bad,” I point out petulantly.

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

No, I don’t. Not in the slightest. But I can’t tell Hannah that.

“Doesn’t matter what I believe. What I know is that they’re both liars.”

She’s quiet for a few seconds and then, “Plan to come home for Christmas. I’ll make sure it’s just family. No one else.”

“What about all the dude ranch visitors? You can’t say that when our home has been turned into a hotel.”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re thinking, but there’s only one way to find out for sure. Just think about it, okay?”

“I’ll think about it.” I can say that with confidence. I will think about it. Then I’ll decide it’s not smart. Then I’ll not go.

“I’d never purposely lead you astray. You know that, right?”

I frown. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?”

“Just… come home, Haley. If you don’t trust anyone or anything else, trust me.” I don’t quite know what to say to that. Luckily, she wraps up our conversation and lets me off the hook. “I have to run. Got some puff pastries in the oven that need to come out.”

“Okay. Have fun with that.”

“Love you, sis.”

“Love you, too.”

I hang up the phone feeling sadder and lonelier than I have in the last ten years. Just one more thing I blame Nixon Holt for.

A surge of anger wells in me, and I embrace it. I cling to it, I perpetuate it because it’s the best relief I can get from my heartbreak. Maybe that’s just what I need—to learn to hate Nixon as much as I hated Jason. It worked before. Surely that can work again.