“No. I’m not even going to Seth’s anymore.”
“I hate that. I’m so sad to see you go. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Ryan admitted, the word escaping in a soft exhale.
“We’ll keep in touch, right?” Alyssa said. Outside, a breeze stirred the branches of a tree.
Ryan touched her hand. “Yes. I’d like that very much.”
Both women blinked back tears, took a deep breath, and smiled.
“How about we go into town tomorrow? My boss wants some photos of it before I go.”
“Yes, we can do that. So, what shall we watch?” Alyssa asked.
Ryan reached for the remote on the coffee table, its buttons glossy from frequent use. “How about an oldie? I spottedRoadhousein the list.”
Alyssa chuckled. “Who doesn’t love Patrick Swayze and Sam Elliott?”
“Perfect,” Ryan agreed. “Let’s settle in.”
“Any popcorn?” Alyssa asked.
Ryan shook her head apologetically. “No, sorry.”
“Not a problem,” Alyssa said, rising. She crossed the room, her footsteps soft on the floor, then paused at the door. “I’ll be right back; I’ve got microwave popcorn and some Coke.”
Ryan nodded, pulling a cozy blanket around her legs. Alyssa’s footsteps faded as she walked out the door, a gentle click following shortly. A few minutes later, she returned with a bag of popcorn in one hand and two chilled sodas in the other. She popped open the soda cans, steam of cold fizz hissing into the air.
“Glass or can?” she called over her shoulder.
“Can is fine,” Ryan replied, as she heard Alyssa putting the bag into the microwave, punching numbers, then Ryan heard it start up.
Once the microwave signaled the popcorn was ready, Alyssa dumped the crunchy kernels into a bowl, the aroma of butter wafting up, then handed it to Ryan and settled onto the sofa beside her. She tucked her legs beneath her and placed the sodas on the coffee table.
Together they dug in as the television screen flickered to life with the opening credits of the movie. Ryan tried to focus on thebarroom brawls and music, but her thoughts drifted stubbornly to Seth, what he was doing and what he might think of her leaving. She pressed her lips together, worry lines creasing her forehead.
Alyssa nudged her gently. “What’s wrong?”
Ryan sighed and leaned back. “Seth. It’s always him.”
“Don’t you think you should let him know you’d stay?”
She shook her head, curling her fingers around the soft throw. “I did. He said no.” She took a deep breath. “Then he said once I go home I’d forget about him because I only wanted him since he was so different. He called it a fascination of the idea of us.”
“That’s not what it is though, is it?”
“No.” Ryan shook her head. “I know he’s not what I thought I wanted, but he is. He’s the man I want.”
Alyssa reached over and squeezed her hand. In the cozy glow of the television, they fell silent, two friends united by popcorn, soda, and the unspoken hope that Ryan’s next choice would ease not only her body’s pain but her heart’s as well.
****
Thursday, Seth worked with one of Kevin’s fillies, her coat gleaming like polished copper under the late afternoon sun. He had to get back into it since his hand was healed enough that the dull ache had subsided. It still throbbed if he happened to knock it against something, but he was careful, his movements deliberate and measured.
Training horses was the only way he could push thoughts of Ryan from his mind. The rhythmic motion of the horse, the soft snorts, the earthy scent of hay and leather, these sensations anchored him to the present. He knew she was heading back to California Saturday, but he missed her with a hollowness that echoed in his chest. He wanted to see her but couldn’t abandonhis responsibilities. When he promised clients he’d train their horses, nothing derailed his commitment, well, not unless he punched someone and split his knuckles open on their jawbone.
“It was still worth it,” he muttered, flexing his scarred hand.
