Chapter 30

Link checked his phone again, but Misty hadn't responded. He'd been back on the ranch, back in service, for a few hours now. Once the cattle had been put to pasture, he'd helped put away the horses, and he'd come home to shower off the week's worth of work, dust, grime, and sweat.

Their family feast to celebrate the conclusion of the round-up would be at the firepit in another half-hour, and Link's stomach told him he would not miss it. But he missed Misty something fierce, and he needed to hear from her.

She'd sent a lot of texts, which he'd gotten in a flurry of notification noises and in a seemingly random order. He'd managed to piece together the events of this week as he made assumptions about which texts had come when.

He'd answered her and said, I'm back, and I can't wait to hear your voice. Call me when you can.

She hadn't called. Or even texted again.

Link didn't know how to breathe without her. Every moment where he hadn't heard from her made him into someone else. A different version of himself that would do anything to hear her voice and make her happy. A new cowboy in this moment, and then the next, who would know exactly how to tell her he loved her, and of course there was a place for her brother at Shiloh Ridge.

He hadn't spoken to his father, Uncle Ward, or Uncle Preacher about it, but Link still knew it to be true. Danny had been in jail for his role in a bar fight—armed assault—but Link believed in repentance. He believed in second chances—and he knew his family did too.

The problem was, Misty had messaged among all her other texts that Danny didn't want to leave Dallas.

So they'd gone to Dallas. To her apartment there. Link didn't want to think of her there alone, readjusting to the life she'd had there once…without him.

He once again became a different man, because that was what love did to a cowboy. Once he knew who he wanted to spend his life with, that love drove him to do better, be better, make quicker decisions, speak up, love her with all he had.

Link paced in his kitchen, his hand curled around his phone. Love for Misty made him feel bolder, braver, and better. He raised his phone and tapped to dial her. It was evening, and surely she wasn't working in Dallas tonight.

Her line rang once, twice, three times, and then she said, "Link, hi."

Relief rang through him. "Misty," he said. "Hey, baby, how are you?"

"Good," she said softly, and he imagined her to be hiding in a closet or around a corner. "Listen, it's not a great time to talk."

"Are you safe?"

"What? Yes, of course."

"I miss you," he said. "I expected you back here by tonight." He spoke gently, hoping she wouldn't think he was accusing her.

"Danny doesn't want to come," she said. "I changed my flight to Sunday, in the hopes I can convince him."

Link didn't want to tell her to leave him behind. He didn't understand all of the family dynamics with Misty and her brother, but he knew Misty felt a great obligation to Danny. She still carried guilt for what his life had become, and Link couldn't imagine what it would take for her to move past that.

He only knew he didn't want her doing it alone.

"I'll be there in the morning," he said. When Misty said nothing, he continued with, "Give me your address, sweetheart, and I'll bring breakfast for you and your brother."

"Lincoln," she said, using his full name.

"I—" He cut himself off before he could tell her he loved her over the phone. "Don't tell me no," he whispered. "Just give me your address and tell me if Danny likes quiche as much as you do."

He ignored the nervous tremble in his stomach that told him he'd never been on an airplane before. He'd never booked a flight. He had no idea if he could actually get from Amarillo to Dallas in the next fourteen hours or not.

"Danny's a garbage disposal," Misty whispered. "He'll eat anything."

"Great," Link said, keeping his voice low too. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"You don't need to do this."

"Yes," he said. "I do. And you wanted me to meet Danny, right?"

"Right," she said.

"Well, then, I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Thank you, Link," Misty whispered, and he did his best not to coo good-bye to her. Then he turned in a full circle, trying to get his mind wrapped around what he'd just said he'd do.

Then he grabbed his jacket—the evenings could get a little chilly if there was a breeze at all. He'd made it out the door before he realized he needed to take some clothes with him. So he backtracked to his bedroom and tossed a few things into a backpack—another pair of jeans, two T-shirts, extra socks and underwear, a stick of deodorant, and his toothbrush—before leaving again.

Down at the firepit, he expected to find Uncle Ward there, getting the fire ready for roasting marshmallows and Starburst later. Link wasn't expecting to be the first man there, but he also hadn't anticipated being the last.

He probably wasn't, but it felt like it as he pulled up and jogged down the gravel path. He found his aunts setting up food, and his uncles putting out more chairs. They'd invited everyone on the ranch to tonight's dinner, because so many of them had been working for five straight days.

"Uncle Preacher," he said, breathless as he reached his uncle. Uncle Ward stood dozens of yards away, but Link would have to check with him too. He didn't have time to deal with any of this, as a sense of urgency to get a ticket and get to the airport came over him.

"Hey, Link." Preacher grinned for a moment, then quickly took in the look on Link's face. Whatever he was showing caused his uncle to sober instantly. "What's wrong?"

"I—I need the weekend off."

To Preacher's credit, he didn't refuse, and he didn't even question. "Okay," he said. "We're already operating on a vacation schedule after the round-up. You go do what you need to do."

"What do you need to do?"

Link nearly sagged to his knees in relief at the sound of his father's voice. He turned toward his father and said, "Daddy, I need your help." He took a breath and swallowed his nerves. He thought of Misty, and he became that new man—exactly the person she needed him to be. "I need to get to Dallas by morning, and I have no idea how to buy an airplane ticket."

Daddy blinked and asked, "What now?"

Link expected him to have all the answers, and he simply stared at him.

"The boy needs to get to Dallas," Preacher said. He turned and looked around. "Ah, there's Charlie." He waved his hand above his head. "Charlie!"

She came toward them, and she handed the casserole dish she carried to Hank, her and Preacher's twelve-year-old son. "Take that over to Aunt Holly, baby." She arrived, looked at everyone, and tucked her hands in her back pockets. "Why was I summoned?"

Preacher gestured to Link, and he should've known better than to expect his uncle would say what he needed. He cleared his throat and said, "I need to get to Dallas by morning. Can you help me book an airplane ticket?"

Charlie didn't waste a moment before she pulled out her phone. "Sure, we can do it from your device."

"We can?" Link asked.

His aunt only moved her eyes to look at him. "Yes," she said slowly. "Now, get your phone out and download this app."

Link scrambled to do what she said, and ten minutes later, he'd kissed his momma and all of his siblings, had his backpack riding shotgun, and was headed for the Amarillo airport.

Link woke in a strange bed, which wasn't all that unusual as of late. It only took him a moment to remember he'd flown to Dallas last night. He'd booked a hotel while waiting to board his flight, and now he had to figure out how to get breakfast and get to Misty's.

He got up and stretched his shoulders as he walked over to the window. Looking out, Link got assaulted by the vastness and busyness of the city. It didn't sit right in his gut, and it made his soul wince, but as he turned away, he steeled himself. This version of himself could do city life—because Misty needed him to.

Aunt Charlie had sent him a rideshare app and an app where he could order food and either pick it up or have it delivered. He'd found a great place to get breakfast, and he ordered the food, then called for a ride and left his hotel room. The driver waited while he ran into a fast-casual restaurant for his order, and then they started their journey toward Misty's apartment.

Link sat in the backseat, feeling a little foolish being driven around like he was someone important. At least no one had commented on his cowboy hat, and he reminded himself he was still in Texas. It only felt like a foreign land.

He texted Misty and then silenced and shoved his phone under his leg.

Remember when I met your brother? And it was so amazing, because we got along so well from the very first moment. And remember how he agreed to come work with me at Shiloh Ridge? That was so great, and we had the best weekend ever in Dallas.

Now he just needed the text to come true.

The driver pulled up to a nice apartment complex, away from the tumultuous freeway noise. Emerald green grass surrounded the building, which had stone and stucco on it. Link wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but not something that looked…cute. Livable. Like Misty belonged here.

He shoved aside the second thoughts, the insecurities, and said, "Thanks, brother," before he collected his paper bag filled with breakfast and headed for the second floor. He wondered what he looked like as he strode across the sidewalk and took the stairs up to the next level.

He went to the appointed number and knocked, his heart pounding as loudly as his fist had on the wood.

"Coming!" sounded from inside, and Link dang near bolted. Misty is here, he told himself. Misty is here. Misty is here. Lord, I'm here, and Misty is here, and please make this okay. Is this okay?

He'd been so desperate to get to Misty, he hadn't stopped to consider if it was the right thing to do.

The humidity here seemed more oppressive than in the Panhandle, but as Link breathed in and waited, he settled. This was right. This was the man he needed to be right now, and he ducked his head and considered knocking again.

Then the door opened, and he looked up—right into the eyes that followed him into his dreams. The eyes he never wanted to see disappointment in. The eyes he could communicate with without saying a word.

"Hey," he said softly.

Misty came out onto the walkway, immediately lifting her arms up to encircle his neck. He dropped their breakfast and took her into his arms and let her shiver in his arms for several seconds. She wasn't crying; the lack of sniffling told him that. But she definitely needed him.

And he was here.

She stepped back. "I got your text."

"It is so good to see you," he said. She wore her hair up in a ponytail, but it still shimmered with a hint of red gold.

"Mm, you too." She touched her lips to his, and Link wondered if he could tell her he loved her standing outside an apartment he never wanted her to return to, in Dallas, which was seemingly so far from Three Rivers.

From home.

"You ready for this?" she whispered against his lips.

"Misty, I'm in love with you." He kept his eyes closed, so he could breathe in the scent of her without any other distractions. He could feel her in his arms, the perfect shape of her that filled the empty places inside him with exactness. The earth swayed with them once again, and he kept his eyes closed as she traced her hand down the side of his face.

"I love you too, Link," she whispered.

He dared to open his eyes then, because no better words had ever been spoken. He gazed at her, looking and looking and looking, learning how to breathe as a man who was loved, and reforming himself into the Lincoln Glover she needed by the moment.

Love really was such a powerful thing. The greatest impetus of change Link knew of.

She smiled and said, "Come meet Danny."

And he let her open the door, take his hand, and lead him inside her apartment to meet her brother.