Christy

The text from Chet came in two days ago and I still haven’t responded. I don’t know what to say. I miss you, he said. I miss him, too. So much. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep or a meal that didn’t taste like sawdust since the night he left. His absence hurts me physically. I feel it as intensely as I would feel a broken limb. But maybe this is for the best. Maybe I was right all along. Maybe falling out of Mark’s arms and into Chet’s embrace was foolish from the start.

I lean on the counter at the vet clinic, phone in hand, messaging app open. Those three words stare back at me. I miss you. Will they ever lose their power? Or will I spend the rest of my life with a Chet-sized hole in my heart and those three little words floating around in my head?

Betsy, the office manager, comes around the corner and pauses when she sees me. “You waiting on a call?”

“Me? No.” I close the app and lock my phone. “Just lost in thought.”

“Seems to me like you’ve been doing that a lot lately.” Betsy studies my face with keen eyes.

I’ve been barely holding it together for the last week, and it grates on me to know I’ve been transparent about it. “Sorry,” I mumble as I straighten. “Just dealing with some stuff.”

“You think you can deal with it while you work? I just got a request for a house call.”

“Actually, a distraction would be lovely.” I slide my phone in my pocket. The saying out of sight, out of mind does not apply here, even though I wish to hell it would.

Betsy bobs her head and purses her lips. “Good. I just got a call from the Wilde ranch. They need a vet on site pronto.”

My heart plunges to my feet. I can’t go out there. I can’t. If this is Chet’s way of forcing me to come talk to him, then he plays dirty.

Oblivious to my distress, Betsy continues. “I just got off the phone with Gabe Wilde. He says they’re having trouble with one of their animals, an injury of some sort.” She jabbers away while I try to figure out if I can handle going out there. If Chet wasn’t the one to make the call, then maybe he isn’t even home. And if they really do have an injured animal, I have no choice but to go. It’s not like they have all that many options in the way of vets. This town would be too small to handle one, if it wasn’t for all the ranchers and homesteaders needing help with their livestock.

“Christy?” Betsy stares at me expectantly.

“Hmmm?”

“Did you hear one word I said?”

“Yeah. Sorry. The Wildes have an injury.”

“Right. And they need you pronto.” Betsy continues to stare, waiting for me to respond.

I nod, taking a long breath to slow my pulse. “Right. So I should get my gear and head out there.” Without waiting for her to reply, I head into my office to gather my things, my treacherous heart yammering away with excitement. For as much as I’ve decided that I might be better off never seeing any of the Wildes again, my heart hasn’t gotten that message yet. All it knows is that it’s hurting and we’re about to risk running into the one person who can make the pain go away.

By the time I cross the parking lot and climb into my truck, I’m almost more excited than I am terrified. The thought of seeing Chet again has me beside myself. Although, maybe, since I never returned his text and he never sent another one, maybe he doesn’t want to see me. Maybe he’ll hide in his house or at his favorite spot near the limber pine and I’ll talk to Gabe and then leave without ever seeing the man I love. Maybe I’ll never see him again. Maybe I messed up big time by asking him to leave and then staying silent for so long.

My mouth goes dry and I swallow down the lump growing in my throat. Maybe all this worry is a sign that I’m right to create some space between us. I can’t live my life like this, all wrapped up in someone else. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, roll down the windows and let the rush of wind roar through my head, praying it blows away bits and pieces of the worry that’s been my near constant companion for the last seven days. I set my gaze on the skyline and count my breaths until I pull into Chet’s driveway and then I stop breathing altogether.

I can’t do this.

I can’t be here.

I don’t care how professional I’m supposed to be, seeing this place is salt in the wound. The little fissures along my heart tear open and bleed. Tears spring to my eyes and I wipe them away. If it wasn’t for Gabe standing right there, waving me in, I’d throw the truck in reverse and disappear because I’m not strong enough to survive this.

Instead, I swallow hard and force a smile as I draw to a stop beside him. “Morning,” I say as I climb out of the truck.

“Doc.” The look on Gabe’s face is sorrowful and apologetic. He knows.

I reach into the cab and pull my gear out of the passenger seat. “I hear there’s an injury.” I’m proud of myself for how steady my voice is. No one would know that my hands are shaking and my stomach is twisting itself into knots. No one would know that being here is killing me. I’m playing it cool. Keeping it professional. Maybe I can do this.

I straighten and my gaze falls upon Chet’s house, the two rockers sitting empty on his porch. Pain stabs through me. I flinch, but then force a pleasant smile at Gabe.

“You okay, Christy?” His voice is too gentle. Too knowing. It seeps through my cool exterior and burns its way through my poor, breaking heart.

“Never been better.” My voice cracks and I can’t keep smiling through it.

Gabe opens his mouth to say something, but I talk over him.

“Where’s my patient?” I ask. “How bad is the injury?” If I’m going to make it through this day, I need to stay focused on work. There’s no room for friendly conversation and useless words.

Thankfully, Gabe seems to understand my need to keep things on a professional level. “It’s pretty bad,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”

“What’re we looking at here?”

“One of our bulls. The biggest and stubbornest of them all. He’s in really bad shape.”

I frown. “What happened?”

“That’s just it. I don’t really know. He’s just separated himself from the herd and lashes out at anyone who gets close.”

Great. So not only do I have to walk past Chet’s house to get to the field, but I also get to risk being gored by an angry bull. This day just keeps getting better.

“Point me in the right direction and I’ll see what I can do.”

Gabe smiles lightly and then points directly at Chet’s house. “He’s right in there.”

“There’s a bull in Chet’s house?”

“Chet is pretty bullheaded…”

And suddenly, it all makes sense. “Gabe…” I shake my head. “I can’t go in there.”

“Why? He needs you. I’ve never seen him like this. Never. You guys need to talk.”

“I don’t think we have anything to say to each other.”

“I swear, you’re just like him, aren’t you? Too stubborn for your own good. I saw your face when you pulled into the driveway. You have all kinds of things to say to each other. I don’t know what happened, but I do know my brother and as maddening as he is, whatever he did came from a desire to protect you and make your life better.”

I stare toward Chet’s house. “How do you know he’s the one at fault?”

“Just an educated guess. Like I said, I do know my brother.”

The urge to climb into my truck is so strong, I take a step back. And then another. I can’t go in there. I can’t face this. “It’s not really his fault, you know.” I glance at Gabe. “I messed up pretty big, too.”

“All the more reason to talk to the man. Maybe it fixes things, maybe it doesn’t, but it’s clear as day that neither one of you are ready to give up on whatever it is you have going.” Gabe puts his hand on my back and applies light pressure, pushing me forward. “Go on.”

I take a deep breath and let it out. Gabe’s right. I’m tired of running. Tired of putting my head in the sand and hoping the problem just goes away. I can’t ignore the way I feel about Chet. For better or for worse, it’s time to talk to him.