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He blinked, and I shook my head quickly. “That’s none of my business. That was rude of me to—”
“Valerie, Cathy and I were never a couple.”
My head tilted as he continued. “What happened between Cathy and I…” he sighed as he ran a hand through his black hair. He looked away, focusing on his hat on the wall. “Mason bought me that hat.”
I followed his gaze and then looked back to him. His throat bobbed as he backed up to lean against that counter again. He braced his hands on either side of his hips and looked at his boots. “Told myself you would have to know the truth, but fuck, I didn’t want to do it this soon.”
Fear crawled up my spine and I tried to ignore it, but my body froze. “Why?”
He raised his eyes to me. “Because our dream might end when I’m done telling you what I have to tell you, baby.” His rough voice was painfully soft now, and that scared me even more.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Honey…”
Denver held my eyes as he delivered the truth to me. “Cathy was Mason’s fiancée.”
I stared. There was nothing else I could do. There were red alarms going off in my head, my heart was terrified, but my soul remained calm.
Listen to him, Valerie.
You love him. Remember that.
I nodded for him to continue. A confused look washed over his face, but it was gone in a flash.
“I’ve told you before that I was in the Marines. I enlisted when I was eighteen. That wasn’t the plan, and when Pop found out…fuck, he was so mad.” He looked away and continued. “Hallow Ranch was always going to be passed down to me. I was the first-born son. Pop raised me to be a rancher. He taught me everything I know. He was grooming me to take over at the age of twenty. That was the deal, and I was fine with that. Hallow Ranch was my dream, it was the most beautiful place in the world.”
I smiled. He was right about that.
“But,” he sighed, “when I was seventeen, I got this desire to see the world. I knew my slice of heaven would be waiting for me when I got back. The only way for a boy like me to see the world was to enlist. I also wanted to serve, like my grandfather did. I enlisted in secret on my eighteenth birthday. There was a recruitment office a county over, and I took the truck keys and went. Pop was so pissed, like I said, that he didn’t speak to me for a month. Didn’t even tell me goodbye when I left for basic.”
“Denver, that’s terrible,” I objected. How could a father do that to his son?
Your father left you in the dust completely.
The corner of his lips turned up. “Like it when you get mad for me,” he murmured. I was glad, because apparently, I would be doing it a lot.
“So, you left and served your country. How long were you gone?” I asked, wanting to hear the rest.
“I was gone for a little over five years. I came home after basic, but I wasn’t welcome here. Pop was still mad and Mason—he was pissed too. I never understood why. He would get to chase his dream. Mase had dreams of being in the PBR since we were kids, and because he was the second son, the responsibility of the ranch didn’t fall to him. Not that I minded, because there was nothing else I would rather do with my life. I just wanted a chance to—”
“You served your country, Denver. You sacrificed yourself for this!” I snapped, gesturing around me. I stood from my stool and began to pace. “You could’ve died! Did your father not get that? That there was a possibly of you coming home in a box?” My voice was raised now, and I was on a roll. This man chose to defend the millions of innocent people. He risked his safety, his relationships, his mental health, his life!
How could his family be mad at that?“Valerie,” he called. I looked at him. His tanned, muscular arms were crossed over his broad chest.
“What?” I spouted, glaring at him.
“I don’t fucking deserve you,” he whispered. Before I could tell him otherwise, he continued, “Let me finish the story, and then you can decide if you want to keep that anger for me…or direct it at me.” There was a hint of sadness at the end of his statement.
How bad was the ending of this story?
Reluctantly, I nodded.
“Anyways, I came home five years later. Hadn’t spoken a word to Pop or Mase in all that time. I wrote letters, of course, but I never got a response back. Which was fine with me, because I knew that whatever shit we needed to hash out, we could do it when I was back. Except when I got home, Mase was nowhere to be found, and Pop—he was acting differently. He wouldn’t talk to me, only stare. Later, after everything went down, I found out that Pop had dementia.” He looked down at his boots again.
I could only stare at him; he was trying to bury this pain. I could see it happening before my eyes, and he didn’t need to. He needed to let it out.
“At the time, I didn’t know. I just assumed he was still pissed. So, not wanting to deal with that, I went out to the bar. I needed a fucking drink and there was no whiskey in the house. I tried reaching out to Mason, to let him know I was home. He didn’t answer, but Jigs told me he was a town over. He was bull riding that night. Went to the bar, sat down with the intention of drinking until I was numb. Then, this woman pressed up against me. She was laying it on thick, and if I hadn’t just gotten home, I would’ve told her to fuck off. But I gotta be honest, baby, after the shit I’d seen…I needed the distraction.”
Oh, God.
