Page 44 of Take Me Please, Cowboy
He knew his life, knew what he could handle, knew when he was beaten.Ansley was too great of a distraction.She was too beautiful, too appealing, too challenging, too smart, too creative, too fascinating.She was too much of everything, and he found her impossible to resist.He’d loved and hated talking to her this past week.He’d loved and hated hearing her voice and seeing her texts.She made him feel so much.She made him feel so intensely that he lost focus.He lost perspective.
He didn’t want to hurt her, and he didn’t want her sad.He was doing his best to take care of her but how could he take care of her, when he couldn’t even care for himself?He was a mess.A certified, bona fide disaster.He had to cut the communication once and for all.
One day she’d thank him.One day she’d realize he’d saved her from a lifetime of disappointment and sacrifice.
Bracing the phone against the pillow supporting his left arm, Rye carefully typed a text to Ansley.
Sorry to have been out of touch so long.I took a fall at work and needed some surgery.I’m going to be fine but it’s ended the rodeo season.I won’t be doing any more traveling until spring.I think it’s also the right time to step back and make a clean break.You know I’ll always be your fan.Take care, Ansley.
He hit send, and after a moment of feeling the most ridiculous lance of pain, not in his shoulder or arm, but in the center of his chest, he blocked her number so the break was complete.
Chapter Eight
It had takenher a full day to realize that Rye had been serious.
He wasn’t taking her calls.He wasn’t answering her texts.In fact, her calls went straight to his voice mail, and after asking Sophie Wyatt about it, when she stopped by with Summer Friday afternoon, discovered that Rye must have blocked her.Blocked her.
At first, she was hurt, really hurt, and then she was angry.Who was he to block her?She’d been a friend.And yes, she had strong feelings for him, but she’d never crossed the line, never behaved inappropriately.Why had he thought it essential to shut her out like that?It was rude, demeaning.
He was rude, demeaning.He’d taken her from such a high to such a painful low.And if this is what he wanted… if this was who he was… she was glad he’d finally shown his true colors, glad he’d cut her loose.Now she could move on.Be free.Meet someone new.Someday.
On Sunday, exactly two weeks after Rye had driven away, the entire Wyatt clan came over to Uncle Clyde’s for a Sunday barbecue.They arrived in four trucks, and all spilled out, everyone carrying something.Seeing them gather in the backyard was daunting.There were babies and toddlers, dinner, dessert, and drinks.The men set up folding tables and chairs in the shade while their wives covered them with cheerful yellow tablecloths and adding a vase of daises on each table.The weather had warmed again and one of the younger Wyatts—Billy, maybe?—found an old sprinkler and attached it to a garden hose so the kids could run through it, and they did, shrieking and laughing and getting soaked.
It was colorful and chaotic and just what Ansley needed.Having grown up in a house with a lot of brothers and commotion, it felt good to pretend she belonged, even if she wasn’t actually part of the Wyatt family.She’d felt lonely living here, and it had been a struggle making friends, but now she had all of the Wyatts to call friends, and they were friends.They’d been there for her all week and had shared her excitement on getting the invitation to do the gallery show.
But watching the Wyatts, two of them still competing on the PRCA circuit, with Tommy and Billy heading to Las Vegas in December, it was hard not to think of Rye.But she couldn’t keep thinking about him, couldn’t keep hurting over him.She had to let him go.And yet it was hard to let him go.
How did one let love go?
Sophie had been sitting with Ansley at the end of a table until she saw her kids squabbling and had jumped up to separate them.Ivy, Sam’s wife, slid into the seat Sophie had vacated.“Granddad has been filling us in on your gallery exhibit coming up,” she said.“That is exciting.Are you ready?”
Ansley shook her head.“No.I need at least three, maybe four, more pieces.I think I can do it, provided I just paint, paint, paint.”
“Is the nursing aid providing any respite?”Sophie asked, returning to the table and squeezing in next to Ivy.
“Yes.She’s usually here from nine until one, and then your family has been great about stopping by and keeping Clyde company after his afternoon nap so I can get a little more work done.It’s been a huge help.I wouldn’t have anything ready for the gallery if it weren’t for the Wyatts.”
Sophie studied Ansley a moment.“So, what’s wrong?You seem a little down.Everything okay?”
Ansley shrugged.“It’s nothing, at least nothing that important.I’ll get over it.”
“Feeling homesick?”Ivy guessed.
“No.”Ansley flushed, feeling sensitive.“It’s a guy thing.”
Sophie’s eyes widened, understanding dawning.“When you asked me how could you tell if a number was blocked… is this the same guy?”
Ansley nodded miserably.
“What a jerk,” Ivy said.“Who is he?”
Ansley bit her tongue remembering that Rye said he was good friends with Ivy.There was no way she could share any of the details with her, or the Wyatts.As Rye had said, the professional rodeo circuit in Montana was small and close knit.“Just… someone.”She forced a smile.“But don’t worry, I’m not letting him distract me.I’ve got the show coming up and lots to do.”
“What do you still need to do?”Sophie asked.
“I’d like at least one more big landscape, and I need to finish two smaller pictures, and then I’ve got to get them all framed.The big canvases don’t have to be framed, but the others do, and framing is time consuming.”
“I’m sure one of these guys could build you your frames,” Ivy said, nodding toward the four brothers and cousin gathered around the other table.“Most of them can do anything and build anything.Not sure if you know, but Sam has been making furniture this past year.He’s become quite the craftsman.He would probably enjoy doing something new.”
