That’s my girl.
The thought had me slipping my hands in my pockets. Forcing my feet to take a step back.
No matter how much she seemed to fit, I had to remember that she didn’t belong here. In less than a week she’d be leaving the Double B to return to the city.
I couldn’t let Jocelyn Dormus lasso my heart and take it with her.
11
Jocelyn
Stepping on a rusty nail.
Getting kicked by a cow.
Being trampled by a stampede.
Being zapped by an electric fence.
All dangers I’d considered before driving up from the city. One thing I hadn’t calculated?
An identity crisis.
And, um, hello? About eight years too late on that one. I wasn’t at the Double B on some sort of Australian walkabout trying to find myself. I’d already decided on who I’d be in the guidance counselor’s office when we’d gone over annual income projections before I decided on a major.
Didn’t matter if asset allocation and Barclays’ seven-year municipal bond index made my eyes cross. The world of finance put a roof over my head and food on the table. Sent my brother to school. Broke me free from the bondage of Hyde Park.
What did the Double B give me?
Only enough space to fill my lungs to capacity and a soul-deep peace I’d never experienced before.
The thought of returning to the conveyor belt of bodies moving along at a clipped speed in the city, blinders on to anything butmore—more money, more prestige, morethings—and not slowing even for a second to look beyond andfeel…
Breath sucked from my lungs like a vacuum.
Where were my girls when I needed them?
I picked up my phone and paused at my contact list. Who would be the most sympathetic? Definitely not Betsy, who’d tell me to suck it up, buttercup. Nicole might get sidetracked by the fact I was at a farm that raised animals for consumption and launch into a lecture about sustainability and our place on the planet. Amanda—I pinched the bridge of my nose—she’d probably pepper me with questions about cute cowboys.
The image of a certain strong and silent ranch owner popped into my head, and I fanned the mirage away like heat waves over a sizzling blacktop.
That left Molly. Should have started with her. Her natural motherly instincts would surely kick in and give me some much-neededstableadvice.
I pulled her contact info up and pressed the phone icon.
“Hey, girl. How’s the retreat going?” she asked after answering on the second ring.
“I need to get out of here.” The idea of escape hadn’t even registered until this moment, but as soon as I heard the words, the wisdom of them rang true. Malachi had promised a whole new world, but I hadn’t realized how dangerous that proposition would be. Being introduced to a new world had only made me see how unfulfilling my old one was.
But there was still time. I hadn’t passed the point of no return yet. If I could leave the Double B and return to the city, then my experience here would only be like a dream. I could bury myself back under financial projections and pretend like nothing had changed.
LikeIhadn’t changed.
“Why? Did something happen?”
My eyes stung. Was I seriously about to cry? Over a stupid stretch of land, some silly animals, and a ready-for-tv family? I hadn’t cried when our apartment got burgled on Christmas Eve and our handful of presents were stolen. Nor when Mama got laid off and we had to wait in line at the WIC office for hours, not sure if her paperwork would be approved or if we’d have to go to the church on the corner to beg for a few items from their community pantry.
Scout ambled over and curled up beside me, resting his chin in my lap. My hand found the crown of his head, silky soft hair tickling my palm. A sense of loss, the weight of which I’d guess to be the same as the canine cuddling with me, pressed against the center of my chest, and a sob nearly broke past the barricade of my lips.
