Chapter 26

Under the cover of darkness, Link entered his house, shed his boots, and started unbuttoning his shirt. Every article of clothing came off as he moved from the front door to his master bathroom, where he turned on the shower as hot as it would go.

It took up to a minute for the hot water to come in if he didn't do so, and he was in no mood to wait. In fact, he grabbed his toothbrush and turned back to the shower without giving it another second to warm up.

The night still held heat, though Link had been mowing in an air-conditioned cab. He remembered his father taking the overnight harvest shifts growing up, and now, as the junior foreman, he'd taken them over.

He'd only been working from six p.m. until the job was done for the past week, and as he stepped into the stream of water, he wondered if he'd ever get the itch of mown hay shards off his skin. Or the scent of alfalfa and dirt out of his nose, and the taste of it out of everything he ate.

Such was the harvest on a ranch the size of Shiloh Ridge, and Link would be glad when it concluded. Of course, as soon as this monumental task completed, another began—replanting of fields with winter wheat, a short breeding season, and then the round-up.

Link longed for a crisp morning in the saddle, and he tipped his head back into the water now that it was hot and let the night's work melt off him. He adjusted the water so it wouldn't scald him, and he showered in a slow, calculated way that only prolonged the time until he'd crawl into bed.

Misty had been bringing him an early dinner when she could, but she'd been caught up with some drama at work that had prevented her from leaving early, getting food, and making the drive out to him before he had to meet Uncle Ward and Uncle Preacher at the mechanical shed for a report on the daily work that had been done.

He met his father at breakfast to give the update on the work he did at night, and since Daddy never let anyone work solo on the ranch, Link had been laboring alongside three other cowboys.

After he'd showered and pulled on a pair of pajama pants, he sank onto his comforter and closed his eyes. Just for a minute.

He woke to his alarm and the first rays of sunlight coming through a gap in his black-out curtains. Link groaned as he got to his feet. He fumbled to find a shirt, and he slid on a pair of sneakers to go meet his father.

"There you are," Momma said when Link walked into the house. "Bear, he's here!"

"I'm not late." Link took in the breakfast dishes on the bar. "Smiles is gone already?"

"He had an early-morning conditioning session," Momma said. "The girls are getting ready, and Rock's out doing morning chores in the family stable." She set a steaming plate of scrambled eggs with shredded cheddar cheese melting into them on the bar, and Link didn't hesitate to sit down and take the fork she offered.

She grinned at him. "Thank you for doing the overnight mowing, baby."

Link had already filled his mouth with food, so he simply nodded and waved his fork like it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't, not really. It was a few weeks of a different schedule, and Link could catch up on sleep come October.

"How's Misty?" Momma asked as Link swallowed, her timing impeccable.

"Busy," he said. "We don't see each other as much as we did in the summer."

"But it's still going well?"

"I think so," Link said.

"Hey, good morning," Daddy said.

"I've got eggs," Momma said. She brought over another plate while Daddy clapped his hand on Link's shoulder.

"How'd it go last night?"

"Finished the western fields," Link said. "I'd say we're eighty percent done with mowing."

"A few more days," Daddy said. "We're baling down on the Kinder side."

"Mm."

Momma put breakfast in front of Daddy, along with a plate of sausage links. Link immediately reached for one of those, glad he had such a good mother to feed him. Of course, his thoughts went to Misty, and he glanced over to his father, then looked at Momma.

"Misty doesn't have much family," he said carefully, keeping his eyes on his mother. "I imagine if we get married—and I'm not saying we are—it'll happen here. I just—how long will that take to plan?"

Momma exchanged a glance with Daddy, and Link dipped his head so he wouldn't have to see them. "Depends," Momma said. "On what you want. Catering, her dress, the flowers, that kind of thing."

Link hummed again and got up. "Can I make toast?"

"Sure." Momma twisted and then turned to watch him go by her and into the kitchen. "You could just ask Misty what she wants. Catering and flowers are pretty easy. You have a venue, and I know she loves Willa, so as long as she's available—and why wouldn't she be?—it'll probably come down to when she wants to get married, and how long it'll take her to get a dress."

Link set four pieces of bread in the toaster and pushed down the levers. "Does it matter when you get married? Like, what's the benefit of—I don't even know."

"It doesn't matter," Daddy said.

Momma scoffed. "It matters to women," she said. "She might want to get married in a field of bluebonnets, for example, and they only bloom for a few weeks here in the Panhandle."

Link turned back to his parents. "So I'll ask her." He didn't think Misty would have a month she wanted to get married. Or a vision for what that looked like. She'd told him she'd never dated seriously before, because she did not want to get married. Ever.

Still, he should probably ask her, so he could make sure she got everything she didn't even know she wanted.

Thankfully, Daddy moved the conversation to something else before Link's toast popped up, and then Rock came in, grumbling about his horse needing new shoes, and the girls came downstairs, giggling and gabbing about something.

Link finished his breakfast without having to talk much, and then he retreated back to the Top Cottage to sleep. He dreamt of his wedding, and yes, there were plenty of spring flowers in bloom. He'd never given much thought to the ceremony or what it would entail, but he did stand in True Blue, with his family surrounding him as a woman in a pretty, lacy dress, the veil concealing her face, walked toward him.

He thought he caught a hint of reddish-blonde hair, but then the dream morphed into something else—the unending fields of alfalfa in the headlights of the tractor where he towed the bar mower.

Link's first clue that someone had arrived at his house was the way Honor lifted her head from his thigh. She looked toward the door, and right as someone knocked, she alerted him by putting her paw up on his stomach.

"Yeah, I can hear," Link told her with a smile. "Come on. Let's see who it is." Before he could get up from where he'd sprawled on the couch, the door creaked open.

Misty said, "It's just me, baby. Can I come in?"

Link hurried to stand now, and he faced her with the couch between them, wearing only a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else. "Hey." Surprise ran up his spine and down his arms. "I didn't know you were coming."

She stared at him, a couple of brown cardboard containers of food in her hands. "Uh." Her eyes skittered all over his chest, from left to right and down. She yanked them back up, and heat filled Link's whole body.

"Uh, let me find a shirt," he said. He took a step and tripped over Honor, stumbling forward as he grunted and griped at the dog. He'd thrown a shirt over the recliner at some point, and he snatched it up and pulled it over his head. "What did you bring for dinner?"

Misty startled as if she'd just been unfrozen in a game of freeze-tag, and she walked into his kitchen as he did the same. "It's nothing special. Just those waffles we tried a couple of weeks ago."

"I love those," he said. "Did you get me the—ah, yes. The Nuts About Berries." He grinned at the big, puffy waffle with Nutella spread, raspberries, and strawberries, all topped with whipped cream. "Thanks, love." He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. "Work going okay?"

"Yeah," she said in a higher-pitched voice. She snuggled into his side, but Link definitely felt like something wasn't quite right.

"Did you text me?" he asked. "I couldn't sleep, so I came out here and laid down. Dozed a little more."

"I didn't text," she said. "I figured if I got here by five, you'd be here."

"Mm." He got out forks and handed her one. She opened her container, and he wasn't surprised to find a waffle with lemon curd covering it, then whipped cream with a few delicately placed raspberries in it.

"Can we share?" she asked.

"Of course we can," he said, taking his waffle over to the table. "Want some juice? I have milk too, or that peach lemonade you like. Sweet tea from Aunt Holly." He moved over to the fridge and opened it. Misty didn't respond, and Link reconsidered why she'd fallen into a trance earlier.

He'd thought it was because he hadn't been wearing a shirt, but now, he wasn't so sure. He got out the orange juice—medium pulp—because he knew Misty liked it, and he pulled down two glasses from the cupboard.

After he poured her a glass of orange juice, he plunked the heavy-bottomed glass in front of her. She blinked rapidly, and he asked, "What's going on?"

"I—well, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"You're as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs." He grinned at her. "As my grandmother would say." He cut a bite of his waffle and speared it on the end of his fork. "It's just me, Misty. Say what you want."

"I'm afraid you won't like it."

Link swallowed, then put the dessert waffle in his mouth. Wait, he told himself. He wasn't going to ask her if she was about to break-up with him. Surely she wouldn't bring waffles to end their relationship. He couldn't imagine her ending it at all. He'd gotten no hint or sign of that.

So he waited.

Misty hadn't taken a bite of her waffle by the time Link had eaten half of his, and he said, "Misty, baby. Just tell me."

"My brother is up for parole," she said. "First Monday in October. I want to go to the hearing."

Link looked at her. "Okay." He gave her a small smile. "That's what you're worried about?"

"I'm afraid," she said again, her voice much tinnier and higher than usual. "That if I leave…I don't know. I don't want to leave Three Rivers." She shook her head. "Or you." She stabbed off a bite of her waffle and stared at it. "It doesn't make sense. But I'm nervous."

"You're going to come back," he said. "You have a job here."

She looked at him with those gorgeous green eyes. "Link, we both know it's not the job I'm worried about."

"What are you worried about? That I'm going to find some other stunning blonde to fall in love with?"

She wiped at the tear as it started to creep out of her eye. "No, I'm worried that Danny will need me. That he won't want to come up here, or he won't be able to. That you won't like him. That everything is about to get so complicated, when it's been so easy."

Link listened to her, but he couldn't imagine anything she'd just said. Still, he didn't jump right in to refute her. After a few moments, he said, "Sweetheart, I will—" He cleared his throat. "I'm not going anywhere. If you have to take care of some things down near the coast, or in Dallas, or wherever, that's fine. I'd go with you, if you wanted."

He kept his head bent, studying the texture of the waffle in front of him. "I don't have to like your brother to love you. And being with you has been both complicated and easy, and I've loved every moment of it. So whatever is next for us is just that: the next thing we have to conquer."

Misty sniffled, and Link looked over to her. "When we do things together, we're stronger." He covered her hand with his. "You're not alone anymore, sweetheart. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded and wiped her face. "Okay, go back to eating your waffle. Give me a minute."

Link hid his smile as he did that, looking away so he could look again when she said he could. He'd give Misty whatever she wanted. A minute, an hour, a whole day. "I'll miss you while you're gone, but I don't want you thinkin' you're special or anything."

Misty's laughter filled his house, and Link had to have that every day for the rest of his life. He chuckled with her, glad she settled into eating beside him. He had more questions for her, but he figured now probably wasn't the best time to ask her about her ideal wedding.

"Remember when I left town for a little bit? And you missed me so much, because I am special, and I called you all the time, because you're special? Remember that?"

"Mm."

"And when I got back, you threw me this big party with all my favorite things."

"Those sour watermelon candies you like," he said.

"Yeah, those," she said, "And you had your aunt make cinnamon rolls, and remember how I was brave enough to dip them in the chili once I got back?"

"Yeah," he said. "And remember how much you loved it? Now you won't eat chili without a cinnamon roll." He caught her smile as she nodded, her wavy hair bobbing as she did.

"And coconut rice crispy squares."

"Brownies with a caramel swirl."

Misty leaned her head against his bicep, and Link loved the softness between them. He loved spending time with her, dreaming about a future thing that hadn't happened yet.

He simply loved her.