Page 48 of The Cowboy’s Forever Promise

Her phone rang. Her heart lurched, but it was June, not Carson.

“I’ve just arrived home,” Abby answered.

“You left without saying goodbye to Carson,” June scolded.

“I texted him.”

“And left a blue heart. He’s found out what it means.”

Abby frowned. “It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. I just couldn’t send a red heart.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve only known him for a few days, June. It’d be crazy to think there’s anything serious between us. Besides, I don’t know how he feels about me.”

“So instead of asking him, you send him a blue heart? According to Carson it means calmness and tranquility and friendship.”

“Well, that’s all true.” Sighing, Abby rubbed her face. “It’s better this way.”

“Better for whom?” June said, clearly not happy with what Abby had done. “Carson is a wreck. Oh, he’s trying to hide it like men of course do, but he’s really hurt, Abs.”

“The whole thing is ridiculous!” Abby cried out. “Everything happened way too fast. I barely know him. Whatever was between us, was a temporary thing, we both knew it from the start.”

“Are you sure about that? Do you want to tell me you feel nothing for Carson?”

“I—” Abby’s throat clogged up with tears and swallowing, she dropped her head backward. Sometimes that helped. “Let me phone you tomorrow, okay? I can’t talk right now.”

“Fine, so don’t talk, but listen. I know you, Abs, and I’ve seen you with Carson over the last few days. Your whole face lights up when you see him, and his eyes are never far from you. You’ve fallen for him and if I’m not mistaken, he has feelings for you, too, but you’re both too stubborn, too scared, too something, but Abby, don’t throw this away because you’re hell-bent on sticking to your freaking life plan. Seriously.”

“It’s because I haven’t stuck to the plan that I … that I …” Stunned, she sagged down on the nearest chair. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d lost her heart to the big cowboy.

“What?” June was relentless. “You love him, don’t you?”

“How would I even know what love is, June?”

“You know, Abs, deep down, you know. That is the reason why you chose to flee rather than say goodbye to Carson. I remember you telling me that loving someone, even romantically, is also about caring about each other, looking out for each other. And from what I’ve seen, you have discovered how earth-shattering a mere kiss can actually be, haven’t you?”

Abby couldn’t answer.

“Okay, I won’t pester you anymore. But remember your own words, Abs. You know how difficult it was for me to listen to my heart. You and I grew up thinking we don’t deserve love, never expecting anyone would ever want to stay with us forever. But it can happen, it has happened to me. Think about it, okay? I already miss you and I’m looking forward to seeing you in two weeks’ time.”

“Miss you too,” was all Abby managed before she ended the call.

Her phone bleeped. The food had arrived. At least she could do something about her hunger pains. Her heartache was a whole different story.

Love? Was that the craziness inside her, the deep ache because she knew she wasn’t going to see Carson again? Was love this deep yearning to be with Carson, to touch him, to kiss him, to make love to him? Was love the reason she was feeling so lost? Because if it was, it really, really sucked.

Maybe once she’d eaten, she wouldn’t feel so empty.

*

Days blended into nights, back into days again. Carson got up, tidied his house, fed George, got in his truck or on his horse and worked. He volunteered for all the work nobody else wanted to do, worked himself until he was bone tired before he went home. The weaning season was winding down and breeding season didn’t start until the beginning of next year, but he made sure he found something to do to keep him busy.

Even though he’d lost his appetite, he regularly went to the big homestead for meals. If he skipped one meal, everyone would be on his case. While eating, he kept his eyes on his plate, though, making sure not to meet Willow’s or Cooper’s eyes.

At night, he worked on his photographs. In the dark room with the door closed, he could imagine Abby waiting for him in the room while he concentrated on the pictures he’d taken of her. Abby playing with George. Abby sitting on the bed, brushing her hair. Abby in organizing mood, clipboard in hand, pen in hand, a frown between her eyes. Abby lying on his bed in just her red bra, her hair spread out over his pillow.

He’d blown up one picture of Abby and framed it. She was in his shirt, her hair a little mussed, her eyes darkened. To him, she’d never been more beautiful. He still hadn’t put it up, though. It was leaning against a wall, facing away from him. He was struggling to fall asleep at night as it was.