Page 105 of Ride Me Cowboy

My gut rolls, and I say, “No,” but I’m in the minority, so Mack perches herself on the kitchen stool beside Nash’s and begins to read:

Dear Mack,

I’m so sorry to leave without saying goodbye. I just didn’t have time to wait. Actually, that’s a lie. I think if I’d had to say goodbye to you, I wouldn’t have been able to leave, and it really is right for me to move on.

I came to Coyote Creek because I needed a fresh start, a space to find myself again, and I did. But I also found you—and that’s meant the world to me. You are such an incredible young woman, with so much togive; I hope we can still be friends, even though I’m not just down the hallway anymore. When you’re a famous Country superstar, touring the world, remember, you’ll always have a place to stay with me.

I also wanted to tell you how brave I think you are. I know you don’t find it easy to let people in, so the fact you did with me, shows me how much courage is in your heart. I hope that as you get older, and meet more people like the Donovans, who love and accept you, and want only the best for you, you’ll learn that you can trust without consequence, you can love without fear. I’m so glad you let your guard down with me.

Look after our baby—I know the social media accounts are in good hands with you.

Love, Beth. x

I listen to Mack reading, but I hear Beth’s voice. I hear her sweetness and kindness, I hear her own fears about letting people close, I hear her talking to herself, to Mack, and also to me, and suddenly my throat feels like it’s closing in a bit. I turn around and grab an oven mitt, pulling the roast out and placingit on the stove, just to keep myself busy. When I turn around again, everyone’s staring at me, Mack with a look of accusation.

Well, notquiteeveryone, ‘cause Cass has slipped from the room. I look at Austin and Caleb, then Nash and Mack, and shrug. “What? It’s a nice letter, okay?”

“I got one, too,” Cass returns, holding a piece of paper in the air.

I smother a curse. “Can we not do another fucking story time?”

“You don’t have to stay,” she snaps right back, reaching for her wine and taking a sip as she begins:

Dear Cass,

I wish I’d gotten to know you better, because I really liked our time together. I especially love seeing the way you are with Mack. She’s so strong, but being strong doesn’t mean you don’t need someone in your corner. Everyone does, sometimes, and knowing she has you makes my heart warm.

I loved being here, and spending time with your family. I’d say ‘look after each other’, but I know you all will. That’s what family does, and I’ve never known a family quite as good at it as yours.

If you’re ever in New York, look me up. We can go shopping together.

Love, Beth. x

So, she’s in New York, then. Or at least, she’s planning to go back there eventually. It’s like rattlers have wrapped around my chest, squeezing the breath out of me.

“What did you do?” Cass asks again, rounding on me, waving the letter in my face. Like if she keeps saying that, I’ll crack, and tell her I shoved Beth out of lives rather than let her all the way in. Because how could I have her, then lose her?

“She left. It’s done.”

She waves the paper in my face. “This is not the letter a woman writes when she’s happily going on her way.”

“Yeah, well, what can I tell you?”

“You could start with the truth,” Austin says, frowning, holding up a piece of paper.

Well, that stops me in my tracks. Writing a letter to Cass and Mack makes sense. Girls do that sort of shit, right? But Austin?

“What does it say?” Cass asks. I give up on saying I don’t want to hear it—no one’s listening, anyhow—and just make for the door, but Nash blocks my path.

“Sit your ass down,” he says. “Least you can do is hear her out.”

“These letters are for you, not me.”

“Just listen,” Nash replies, crossing his arms over his chest. We’re pretty evenly matched in terms of size, but it’s been a long time since I’ve fought any of my brothers and I don’t have the taste for it today, anyway.

So, I stand there as Austin starts to read:

Dear Austin,