Chapter Twenty

Dolly

It was half past four, and Nash was late. I glanced at my phone for what had to be the fiftieth time, hoping for a call or at least a text, but there was nothing. My stomach tightened, a familiar unease creeping in. "Come on, kid," I muttered under my breath, keeping my eyes on the front door of the store. "Where the heck are you?"

The bell above the door jingled, and my eyes widened, and my heart skipped a beat. But it wasn't Nash—just another customer. I let out a breath, trying to focus as two people made their way to the register. I rang them up absently, barely registering their purchases. My mind was elsewhere, running through every worst-case scenario.

After they left, I couldn't wait any longer. I grabbed my phone and fired off a text. Nash Tyler Hanes. Where in the world are you?

My heart pounded as the seconds ticked by with no response. I was on the verge of panic, and my finger hovered over the call button to 9-1-1 when my phone buzzed. The text finally came through, and the words made my stomach drop: I crashed my bike on Meadow Lane. Can you come get me?

"Oh god," I whispered, and my heart raced. I didn't even stop to think before yelling, "Marvin!" My voice was sharper than I intended, but I didn't have time to explain. "I need to leave. Watch the store!"

I didn't even know if Marvin heard me as I bolted for the door. The moment I was outside, I sprinted to my car, barely registering the concerned looks from a couple of customers lingering nearby. I jumped into the driver's seat, started the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot with my hands trembling as I gripped the steering wheel.

I drove fast, too fast, through town, my heart in my throat. Meadow Lane wasn't far, but every second felt like an eternity. All I could picture was Nash, hurt and alone, maybe worse than he was letting on in his text. What if he's really hurt? What if— No, I couldn't go there.

He hadn't said where exactly on Meadow Lane he was, so I started at one end and drove the length of the road, scanning for any sign of him. My mind was racing. Meadow Lane wasn't very long, but it felt like it went on forever. I had almost reached the dead end when I spotted them.

Nash was sitting on the sidewalk and his friend Kevin standing next to him. My heart clenched at the sight of Nash holding his arm like it was hurt. But then my eyes shifted to the figure crouched in front of him. Boone West.

"Oh shit," I whispered, pressing my foot harder on the gas as I pulled up. Of course, Boone had to be here. Because the universe couldn't just give me a break, Nash had crashed in front of Boone's house. Now, on top of worrying about whether Nash was hurt, I had to deal with the fact that Boone and Nash had finally met.

I parked and jumped out of the car, my heart pounding. "Nash!" I called as I rushed over to him, my eyes darting between my son and Boone.

Nash looked up at me, his face pale but trying to act like it was no big deal. "Hey, Mom."

I kneeled down beside him, my hands hovering for a moment before I gently touched his shoulder. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Nash mumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. "I just... I hit a rock or something and flipped the bike. It's no big deal."

"It's a big deal if you're hurt," I said, my voice softer now. "Where are you hurt?"

He shrugged with his good shoulder. "Just my arm, I think. It's probably just bruised."

Boone stood up, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since I arrived. There was something in his expression that made my heart twist, but I couldn't deal with that right now. Not with Nash sitting here, clearly trying to downplay his injuries.

Boone cleared his throat, his voice steady but laced with a tension I couldn't ignore. "I was sitting on the porch when they came riding down the sidewalk. One minute he was cruising along, and the next, he was ass over tea kettle."

"He was airborne for at least five seconds," Kevin added, wide-eyed and way too casual for my liking, considering the situation.

Lord have mercy. It was crazy how things happened in a split second. One moment, I was trying to figure out why my son wasn't at the store, and the next, I was standing on a sidewalk with Boone West crouched in front of Nash, the boy he didn't even know was his.

I glanced at Boone, my heart hammering in my chest, but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were fixed on Nash, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen before. And in that instant, I knew that Boone had put it all together. The math was simple: Nash was fourteen, and Boone and I were wild in love with each other fifteen years ago. Boone wasn't stupid. He'd figured it out.

Kevin, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing between us adults, continued, "At least you wrecked in front of the most famous guy in Magnolia Grove. Not as dangerous as a bucking bronc, but I'd say it was up there."

Boone finally looked at me, and I felt the weight of his gaze like a punch to the gut. He knew. There was no question about it anymore. But now wasn't the time to discuss it—not in the middle of the street with Nash sitting there holding his arm like it was hanging on by a thread.

"We need to get you to the doctor, Nash," I said, trying to sound calm though my insides were twisted in knots. "I'm afraid your arm might be broken."

"It's fine," Nash insisted, grimacing but trying to play it cool. "I don't need to go to the doctor."

"Yes, you do," I said firmly and kneeled in front of him to get a better look at his arm. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

"You should definitely get that checked out," Boone chimed in, his voice steady and authoritative. "I broke my collarbone once a few years back with the same kind of stunt you did—except on a bull."

Nash perked up, clearly impressed. "Did you have to get a cast?"

Boone shook his head. "Just a sling for a couple of weeks. Had a clean break, though."

Nash turned his eyes to me, a little more hopeful now. "I'm only going if I don't have to get a cast."

I rolled my eyes, exasperated but relieved that Boone's words had swayed him. "How about we go to the doctor, and they'll tell you what you need, okay? No promises."

Nash hesitated, then glanced back at Boone, who gave him a nod of encouragement. "Fine," Nash conceded, sighing like I was dragging him off to the worst fate imaginable.

Of course, he'd listen to Boone—the famous bull rider, the town hero—over his mother. I swallowed hard. Well, he was actually listening to his father, even if neither of them knew the full story yet.

Boone stood and offered a hand to Nash and helped him up carefully so as not to jostle his arm too much. I watched in silence, my chest tightening as they stood side by side for the first time. Kevin hopped back onto his bike, completely oblivious to the tension swirling in the air. "I'll see you later, Nash! Glad you're okay."

"Thanks, Kev," Nash called back, his voice a little weaker than usual. Kevin waved and pedaled off down the street, leaving just the three of us.

Boone gently opened the passenger side door of my car, his movements deliberate and careful. Nash slid inside, wincing as he adjusted his arm on his lap. Boone shut the door, then turned to face me, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with questions he wasn't ready to ask yet.

"Boone," I started, my voice shaky, but he cut me off with a shake of his head.

"How old is he, Dolly?" His voice was quiet but firm, leaving no room for me to dance around the truth.

"Fourteen and a couple of months," I whispered, feeling the weight of the years collapse in on me all at once.

His jaw clenched tighter. "Birthday?"

I hesitated for a second too long, but I knew there was no point in lying now. "Uh, February fifth."

Boone closed his eyes for a beat, his shoulders sagging as he let out a long breath. He didn't have to say it out loud; the truth was already written all over his face. I had just confirmed what he'd suspected. Nash was his.

"Look, I know we need to talk," I said quickly, my voice trembling, "but could we just wait until I get Nash checked out?"

Boone's eyes opened, and the anger simmering beneath the surface was clear as day. "Well, we already waited fourteen years," he said bitterly, his voice low but laced with frustration. "What's another hour or two? Take care of him and let me know how he is."

He turned on his heel before I could say anything else, his back stiff as he started walking toward his house. "I'll bring his bike over later tonight," he added without looking back.

I stood there, watching him go, my mouth half-open, words stuck in my throat. I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell him why I'd kept this secret, why I hadn't told him all those years ago. But now wasn't the time. Nash was in the car, likely hurting more than he was letting on, and the last thing I wanted was to have this conversation in front of him.

"Boone," I called out, hating the way my voice wavered.

He didn't stop, didn't even turn around, but he shook his head. "Later, Dolly. Later."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me standing there in the middle of the street, my heart pounding in my chest, torn between the past and the present. I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus on what mattered most right now—Nash.

I climbed into the car and glanced over at him. He was leaning his head back against the seat, his eyes closed, but I could tell he was still in pain.

"How's the arm?" I asked softly and reached over to touch his good hand.

"Hurts," he admitted, his voice small and far more vulnerable than I was used to hearing.

"We'll be at the doctor's in no time," I said, trying to reassure him as I started the engine. "They'll take care of you."

Nash nodded, but he didn't say anything else. I glanced over at him again as we drove through town, my thoughts swirling like a storm. Boone knew now, and there was no going back. I'd spent the last fourteen years building a wall between my past and my present, trying to protect Nash from a truth I wasn't sure he needed to know. But that wall had just come crashing down, and I wasn't sure how I was going to pick up the pieces.

We pulled into the clinic's parking lot, and I helped Nash out of the car, my mind still racing. As we walked inside, I tried to push thoughts of Boone away. I needed to be present for Nash, to make sure he was okay. Everything else could wait.

An hour later, the doctor confirmed what I had feared—a clean break in Nash's arm, just like Boone had guessed. He'd need a sling and splint, not a cast, which seemed to be the only bright spot in Nash's evening.

"See?" Nash said, shooting me a triumphant grin as the nurse helped him with the sling. "Told you I didn't need a cast."

I forced a smile, my mind still on Boone. "You were right, kiddo."

Once we were done at the clinic, we headed home. The long evening pressed down on me as I drove through the familiar streets of Magnolia Grove, the town that held so many memories and secrets—both good and bad.

I was pretty sure I had kept the biggest secret the longest. Except now it was out.

I glanced over at Nash and sighed.

Yeah, what they said was true. Secrets always come to light, and they always hurt the ones you were trying to protect.

I wished I could take it back, but the only thing I could do now was just face it and ride it out.