Somewhere far off, a lone bird cried, the sound faint. Plaintive.
“Here’s as good as anywhere, I guess,” he said, stopping at a split rail fence fifty yards or so from the looming shape of the barn.
For more reasons than she cared to contemplate, she didn’t want to look directly at him, so she turned toward the pasture on the other side of the fence. The papers Viv had given her crackled in her hands as she rested her forearms on the top rail and gazed off at nothing in particular.
Silence. Out in the pasture, a bay mare snorted and shook her dark mane.
Derek said, “You look good,” and she tried to read his tone. Careful? Thoughtful? Maybe a little angry?
What did it matter, though, what was on his mind? She didn’t know him anymore. They were strangers to each other now and she needed to remember that. “Thanks. You, too—and, well, I don’t even know where to start.” She did look at him then. He was watching her from under the shadow of his hat. Waiting. She swallowed. Hard. “I have been wondering, though...”
“What?”
“Well, it would be good to have some idea of who knows,” she said, and then wanted to kick herself. Could she be any more unclear? He probably had no clue what she’d just tried to ask him.
But as it turned out, he understood perfectly. “About us, you mean?”
“Yeah. About, um, what happened thirteen years ago.”
“Nobody in this town,” he said. “Nobody but me.” A slow smile curved his beautiful mouth. “Well, and you, now that you’re here. While you’re here.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “I would like it to stay that way.”
“Just between you and me, you mean?”
“Yes, Derek.” His name in her mouth tasted way too familiar. “Just between us. Can we keep it that way?”
“You got it. I’ve never told a soul and I won’t start now.” And then he frowned. “But what about the Armstrongs? You didn’t ever tell Eva or her sisters?”
“No.” Her silly throat had clutched and the word came out in a whisper. She knew her cheeks had to be lobster-red. “Ahem.” She coughed into her hand. And then she made herself explain. “I never told the Armstrongs the whole story. All they know is that you and I dated in high school. How about Luke? Your family?”
“I meant what I said, Amy. I haven’t told anyone. It just seemed better to put the whole thing behind me. It’s the past and it needs to stay that way.”
“I agree.” And she did. Absolutely, she did. She wished that none of it had ever happened.
But it did happen. And it changed her in the deepest way.
Did it change him, too, she wondered?
Not that she would ever ask. She had no right to ask and she needed to remember that.
He smiled again—halfway this time, one corner of his mouth kicking up. “Luke waited until after I said I would be his best man to tell me that you would be the maid of honor.”
A strange, tight spurt of laughter escaped her. She quickly composed herself. “I see Eva all over that.”
“What do you mean?”
“She got me to agree to be her maid of honor before she mentioned that you would be best man.”
“So, you think she knows more than you’ve told her?”
“Well, you know Eva, right? She’s a complete and unapologetic romantic. I think she suspects there was more than just a high school crush going on between us back in the day.” Another tight little laugh escaped her—and then she wanted to cry. Really, she couldn’t stand for him not to know what she truly felt, how much she regretted the way things had ended up. “Derek, I...”
“Yeah?” His eyes held hers, a deep look, one that reached down into the center of her and stirred up emotions she wished she didn’t feel.
“I, well, I just need you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”
Wow. She almost couldn’t believe that she’d gone and done it, apologized straight out. And as soon as the words escaped her lips, she kind of wanted to take them back.
Because really, wasn’t he the one who’d told her to go?
But what else could a person say at a time like this?
“I’m sorry, too,” he said.
“But it’s fine,” she blurted out.
He nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s water under the bridge. Years ago. Not a big deal.”
“Absolutely. Over and done. We’ve both put it behind us. Derek, we can do this. We can be there for Luke and Eva. We can help make their wedding everything they deserve it to be.”
He took off his hat, hit the brim against his denim-clad thigh, then put it back on. “Yeah. That’s our job and we can do it.”
She straightened her shoulders. “We will do it.”
“Yes, we will,” he agreed.
And then they just stood there at the fence, staring at each other.
The silence stretched thin.
He broke it. “Well, all right, then. I’ll be in touch.” And without another word, he turned and left her standing there.
Feeling stunned by the whole encounter, Amy stared after Derek as he walked away from her.
Once he reached the turnaround in front of the house again, he climbed into a mud-spattered red F-150 pickup. The engine roared out, the big wheels stirring up a cloud of dust as he drove away.
What had just happened? She wasn’t sure. Had they actually forgiven each other?
Well, at least they’d said the words. And that was good, she decided. They didn’t need to talk it to death. What was there to say, anyway?
It was all in the past.
Too bad they’d come up with nothing in terms of a plan for the bachelor party. He’d said he would “be in touch.” What exactly did that mean?
Annoyance prickled through her. Okay, she got that she wasn’t his favorite person. But they did have to work together. He could have stuck around long enough to set a time and a place.
She glanced down at the papers in her hand. His numbers were right there at the top of the first page—mobile and home. Would the home number be the main house at his family’s ranch, the Circle D? She’d had that number memorized all those years ago. It was burned into her brain and she remembered it still. But this home number was different. Did he live somewhere else now?
He’d moved to the bunkhouse in April of their senior year, to give himself a little independence from his close-knit family. Back then, the bunkhouse number was the same as at the main house, but maybe they’d put in a separate line since then.
Not that she cared. It didn’t matter to her where, exactly, he lived now. She just needed to know when and where they would meet.
She shook her head at the stack of papers. If he didn’t get back to her in the next day or two, she would have to call him.
No big deal.
And really, he had said he would be in touch, right? What was she worrying about?
Forget calling him. He would call her.
And of course, that would be soon...
*