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“I’ll start work and head back.”
The words leave my mouth before I digest them. My thumb jerks and hits the button, hanging up. I didn’t mean to do any of that, but I did. Being out here for two weeks hasn’t done a damn thing for breaking me of being a chronic workaholic. I’m in the same cycle as before.
Like a wave out of nowhere, a deep fatigue hits me.
Sometimes, I wonder if I’m running from something. If I hold still long enough, a terrible knot in my chest will come undone, and I’ll fall apart like a marionette. Nothing else makes sense. I have everything I need, my bills are paid, and yet, I still wake at night in a cold sweat, remembering the gritty floor of the porch off the house where I grew up. And I’m sick inside all over again.
That’s a lot to unpack.
Maybe I can do it on the drive home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SABRINA
Serena and Dad are driving me crazy. The rodeo is in town next week, and I have no interest in going. It’s never been my thing, but they love it. Most years, I find an excuse to work on the farm. This time, they just won’t let my absence go. Dad’s sister, Eugenia, is coming over from Oregon for the next two weeks. She and her daughter and son are our only living relatives outside of our immediate family, but they have their own farm, so they don’t make it down this way very often. I always look forward to it when she does, both because we love her and because she takes care of Dad, giving us girls a break.
I feel guilty for it, but sometimes, I crave a break.
What if I could just…leave?
Say, hey, I’m gonna hit the road for a week and live a little. Pack all my shit and drive with the windows down.
A hard knot forms in my stomach. I’ve never had that kind of freedom, not even when Mom gave us the option to go with her. Despite everything, I can’t leave Dad and the farm. The thought of him alone out here, the barn falling into disrepair, the horses unbrushed, tears me up. No, this is my responsibility, and while it isn’t always easy, I’m willing to carry it.
Maybe it’s meeting Coen that’s got me in a self-pitying mood. What we’ve done together, twice now, is stirring up something I thought I’d put in my back pocket ages ago.
He makes me feel…wild.
After dinner, which he didn’t show up for, I clean the kitchen alone. Serena told me she went upstairs, but I know for a fact she crawled out the window and down the tree, probably making out with Colin somewhere. Dad went up to his room to sleep, and I can just catch the faint sound of him snoring. Usually, the silence is a nice time to wind down from the day. Right now, it just feels empty.
I load the dishwasher, wipe the counters, and leave the dim kitchen shining. Trailing upstairs, I get into my sleep shorts and a baggy t-shirt with paint spattered all over it. Sinking on the edge of my bed, I release a heavy sigh. I can already tell from the way my brain is churning that I won’t get much sleep tonight.
The back door opens downstairs.
Frowning, I freeze and listen, but all I can make out are a man’s footsteps. It’s possible one of the wranglers is down there, but, more likely, it’s Coen, which is a little strange. He’s never come into the house after hours before. I get up and slip down the hall and stairs silently, coming to a sharp halt at the bottom. He’s standing by the counter, fully dressed in his work clothes.
Our eyes meet. A thrill skitters up my spine.
“Hey,” I say softly. “You hungry? I can put something in the microwave.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. He’s still in his work clothes, but his hair is wet, slicked back like he just got out of the shower. Maybe he intended on sleeping but couldn’t get any rest?
“You okay?” I ask, creeping into the kitchen.
The closer I get, the louder his presence is. He is the loudest man I’ve ever met without saying a single word.
He shakes his head, then nods. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
My stomach flip-flops. “Is everything good?”
He comes around to my side of the breakfast bar and leans the heels of his hands behind his lean body. “My agent just called me.”
I wait. “Yeah?”
“I have to go back to Nashville,” he forces out.
Dead silence.
