Page 58 of A Rancher's Vow
“Yeah. If you knew her name, you could report a person, but in general, you can’t legally stop social media discussions, no matter how wrong or upsetting they are.”
Dustin paused. “I don’t know anyone I’ve dated who’d think posting that info would be a good idea.”
“I’d have no idea either if I were in your shoes.” She made a face. “The few guys who have my number, I’d hope they wouldn’t be terrible enough to post it in public. But we’re not in control of what others do.”
“No, we’re not.” Dustin linked their fingers. “What happened in your case? What went viral?”
She paused. “How much do you know about my growing up years?”
He shrugged. “I know you don’t get along with your parents. You were living with your grandmother when you graduated school. I’ve seen your grad pics, and your grandma and your sister are the ones in the photos with you.”
Her gaze drifted outside the window. “Figured you and the Stones weren’t the type to know this type of drama. My mom was a blogger. Chelsea and I grew up with every part of our family life documented and posted online.”
Shock rushed him. “Get out.”
“Seriously.” Charity sighed. “When I was really little, I didn’t know any better. Mommy having her camera out constantly was just how things were. I didn’t know she was posting stuff that hundreds and thousands of people looked at on a daily basis.”
The idea of that level of invasion of privacy was staggering. He paused, wondering. “My foster sister is a blogger, but she never posts pictures of the kids. And I know she talks about ranch life, even her kids, but only in a tangent-like way. She’s the center of the focus.”
“Which is just fine. Consent, once again, being the key ingredient.” Charity met his gaze briefly then refocused on the road. “I was about twelve when I figured out being talked about wasn’t something I enjoyed. I didn’t want the attention of people online. I hated when stuff would get brought up at school that someone else’s mom had read about my life and shared with her kids.
“Plus, I wanted my mom and dad to really be with me in real time. The breaking point was the day I had a dance recital, but instead of coming to watch, mom took fake photos ahead of time. Casual, real time pictures wouldn’t be good enough, you see. I had to pretend—and I’d had enough pretending. I told her I didn’t want to be posted about anymore. In fact, I wrote up a cease and desist—like a typical smart-ass twelve-year-old would.”
Twelve. Fuck it. “The letter didn’t go over well?”
“It started a chain reaction. Turns out the perfect family Mom was posting about online was fraying at the edges. She and dad were fighting all the time about whatever unhappy couples fight about. Chelsea was figuring out her sexuality and lived in fear that area of her life was about to be put on display for the entire world to discuss.” Charity lifted her hands in the air. “Mom made the bad choice to pop up something about ungrateful children and she posted my twelve-year-old rant online. Within hours, it was being shared everywhere. By the time it hit mainstream media, people from both sides of themommybloggerdebate were reposting my letter with their opinions. It was all about hopping on the drama-train.”
At twelve years of age, Dustin had been riding horses, playing with friends, and trusting his older brothers implicitly. “I had no idea.”
“Most people in Heart Falls don’t, thankfully.” She adjusted position in her seat, feet curled under her. “Dad and Mom got a divorce, and he left. Mom had a breakdown and decided she didn’t want to be a mom anymore, so Grandma Lily stepped in to take care of me and Chelsea. We took her last name to separate ourselves from the drama as much as possible.”
Wow. “Your entire world got shaken up.”
“Moving in with Grandma Lily was the start of having a real life, though. She was there when we needed her the most, and I will always be grateful for that.” A long drawn out sigh escaped her. “She died of breast cancer about six months after I graduated from high school.”
Charity had faced one devastating hard blow after another. “I’m so sorry. Fuck cancer.”
“Yeah.” She reached her fingers across the space between them. “That’s my journey into going viral.”
He frowned, a sudden worry striking. “What if you hanging around me makes the old news pop to the surface again?”
Her fingers were warm in his. “I’ve always figured that at some point the story might come up again, but now I’m older and don’t care as much what unknown people say about me, online or otherwise.”
Jeez. “I don’t want to drag you back through that mess.”
“This time it’s my choice—and that’s what makes all the difference.” Charity squeezed his hand. “I mean it. Let it go.”
“Fair enough. I’m really grateful you had your grandma. As for the rest of it, social media fame sucks, and may we never experience it again.”
A soft chime rang on the dash.
Dustin glanced down in concern, but the trailer brake warning light had turned off as quickly as it had turned on. “That was weird.”
Charity met his gaze with a lifted brow. “What?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Pick something to listen to and you can tell me what’s on your agenda for the summer.”
The rest of the trip passed quickly, and soon enough they were pulling to a stop outside Charity’s apartment. Dustin hopped out to help her with her things.
