Page 99 of Wild and Wrangled

Ada and Wes were mostly right. I had a right to be mad at Dusty, but the whole house situation didn’t need to be the thing that did us in because I was too stubborn to talk aboutit.

The orange glow coming in my window told me it was early. I glanced over at the clock next to my bed. Six-thirty. I sighed and rolled out of bed. Half of me hoped that when I went out to my kitchen, Dusty would be there, drinking some coffee and ready to call me out on my bullshit.

But he wasn’t.

When I looked out my back window, normally I could see his house, but this morning, it looked like there was something taped there.

What the hell?

I slipped on a pair of shoes and walked out the back door and to the outside of the window. In black Sharpie, inhandwriting I would know anywhere, “Ash” was written on the back of the envelope.

I tore it off the window and opened it immediately. I didn’t even care that it was cold and that I wasn’t wearing anything but my pajamas. The first thing I saw was a note and then a stack of papers that were tri-folded together.

I went for the note first.

Ash,

I know I should’ve told you about the house. I’m sorry I made you feel like it couldn’t be yours because of me. I hope this makes up for it. The box is for you.

I love you.

Dusty

I looked down and saw the box from Dusty’s coffee table at my feet. I felt tears well up behind my eyes.I love you.I focused on those three words until my vision got blurry. Then I picked up the box and brought it back inside. I set it on the kitchen table and sat down. I thought I would have to work up some courage to open it, but I didn’t; I dove right in.

When I opened it, I noticed that all the notes had been unfolded and stacked neatly, making it easy for me to flip through them.

Ash,

I’m at a ranch in Northern California right now. The cook asked me what the A tattoo on my neck meant. I told her it stood for “adulterer,” but she didn’t get the joke.

Thinking of you,

Dusty

I smiled, and my hand found the spot on my hip where my tattoo was. I kept it there as I kept reading.

Ash,

“Dashboard Confessional” came on the radio today. I sang every word.

Dusty

The next one I read was written on a postcard from Mexico.

Ash,

I’m at a horse rescue this winter. It’s owned and run by women, and they don’t take any shit. The owner, Paola, is what I think you’ll be like in your sixties—fierce as hell. I wish you could meet her.

Dusty

Ash,

Every once in a while, I have a day where I miss you so much it actually hurts to breathe. Today was one of those days. I hope you’re okay.

Dusty

Ash,