Chapter 8

Misty could still hear Link's question as it echoed through her head, her body, her soul. What are we doing?

She didn't have an answer for him, but she did like talking to him. She liked that they had inside jokes, and she liked the way his big hand covered hers. He made her feel safe, and that meant everything to Misty. Absolutely everything.

He disappeared with a duo of horses, his pair of dogs trotting alongside them all, and the pure cowboy goodness of it made her heart so happy. When she couldn't see him any longer, she ducked her head and headed back toward the coolness of the barn.

Misty normally filled her days with work and her evenings with friends, movies, or painting. She wasn't sure if the cabin had anything good to watch, and all of her painting supplies were unreachable in her apartment.

She and Janie could go do something together, and they probably would. But right now, she could help clean up from lunch, and Misty returned to the charming blue barn where she'd spent the past couple of hours, waiting for Link to show up.

Cowboys had come in and out, eaten and gone back to work, and Misty had watched the door religiously. Women and children did the same, and while a couple of tables still remained in the hall, the others had been taken down and rolled away to some hidden closet or compartment.

Misty spotted Janie flirting with a cowboy probably a decade younger than her, and he certainly seemed game for whatever she wanted. She shook her head as she approached them, and Janie grabbed her arm and pulled her in. "Misty, have you met Brandon Rhinehart?"

"I just heard the name Rhinehart outside," Misty said. "Cactus has been up on your ranch for a couple of days?" She looked at the dark-haired, dark-eyed man, and saw all of Janie's hopes and dreams.

"Sure," Brandon said easily, and Misty knew instantly that he was far too young for her—and Janie was four years older than her. Someone called his name, and they all looked toward a lighter version of the cowboy in front of them.

He wore a scruffy beard that looked like he'd shaved this morning and it had grown in already. "Brandon," he said as he arrived. "I have to get back to the ranch. Daddy says there's a wildlife officer there. C'mon."

"All right," Brandon said as his brother finally acknowledged Misty and Janie.

"Hello," he said. "Sorry to interrupt."

"It's fine," Misty said. "We're just going to help clean up. Did you boys get leftovers for tonight?" She shot a look at Janie that meant a great deal, and the Rhineharts said that yes, they'd been loaded up with food for that evening.

As they departed, Misty fell to Janie's side and watched them. "He's a baby," she said.

"He's cute, though." Janie nudged her with her elbow. "Besides, it's not like Link is that much older than them." She turned toward the kitchen to go help, and Misty flowed with her.

"He absolutely is," Misty said as they reached the table where the leftovers were. She picked up a container and started filling it with potato salad.

"Please." She scoffed and passed the container to Janie so she could add some barbecue ribs. "He's barely twenty-six. Does he know you're four years older than him?" She leaned closer and whispered their age difference, as if it was truly scandalous.

"Yes," Misty said simply, pretending putting salad in a Tupperware required all of her attention. "Brandon is barely twenty."

"He is not. He's at least Link's age."

"He is not," Misty argued back. "He had a baby face."

"Who?" a woman asked, and Misty looked up from her task. A woman with deep, dark auburn hair stood there, her blazing eyes demanding an answer. She had to be a Glover, and Misty caught the glint of a diamond on her left hand as she picked up another container and ladled in some of Misty's beef tips and mushroom gravy.

"Uh, just Brandon Rhinehart," Misty said.

"Oh, sure." The woman smiled. "He's older than you think." She glanced over to Misty and Janie. "He just can't grow a beard." She laughed lightly, and she stood taller than most women Misty knew. She didn't carry an ounce of fat on her body, and she definitely could command a room. This whole barn, probably.

"He's my brother-in-law," she said. "I'm Arizona Rhinehart." She smiled at Janie and then Misty. "Are you guys staying for long? I heard they opened up Building C."

"Our apartment is the origin of the fire," Janie said.

"Are you a Glover?" Misty blurted out. She'd abandoned filling any containers, and she ignored Janie's thump on her hip.

Arizona blinked at her. "Yes," she said slowly. "I haven't carried that name for a while, but, yes."

"Once a Glover, always a Glover," another woman said, and Misty looked past Arizona to find Link's mother standing there. Her heart froze in her chest, just suddenly came to an icy, stuttering stop.

Arizona looked at her too. She swiveled her head back to Misty. "Have we met?"

"Oh, let me," Sammy said as she moved to Arizona's side. "Zona, this is Misty Granger. Misty, one of Link's aunts. I'm sure you've met millions of them today, but she's the most beautiful."

Arizona shook her head, her smile radiant. "Misty Granger—oh, you mean—" She drew in a breath and stuck her hand out. "Misty Granger. So nice to meet you."

Seeing the different reactions of Link's family members had been interesting, to say the least. They obviously all knew her name. Every single one of them, right down to an aunt who didn't live on this ranch anymore.

Arizona turned back to Sammy. "And don't let Oakley hear you say I'm the most beautiful."

Sammy only laughed, and they went back to dishing up leftovers. Misty exchanged a glance with Janie, and then she turned to Arizona. "So how old is Brandon?"

Arizona pinned her with a look. "For you? Or for you?" She looked over to Janie.

"She likes the dark-haired type," Misty said with a smile. "I'm more into blonds."

"Mm hm." Arizona finished with another container and got interrupted by a girl in her early teens. "Shiloh, baby, take this over to my bag. Daddy will want these beef tips."

Misty's pride and satisfaction grew inside her, but she hid her smile. "Your daughter?" she asked.

"Yes," Arizona said.

"You named her Shiloh?" Misty looked at her. "After this ranch?"

"Yes," Arizona said. "Names mean something to us." She smiled over to the teen, who'd been joined by another one. "My other daughter's name is April Rivers, but she goes by Trouble." She gave the girl a dark look, and as she put her hand on the chest of a boy a couple of years older than her, Misty could see why.

"Who's that?" she asked casually.

"Jason Walker," Arizona said without taking her eyes off the teenagers. "He's a good boy, but April is a bit of a flirt."

"It's innocent," Sammy said.

"Sure," Arizona said, cutting her a look out of the corner of her eye. "If that was Heather, you wouldn't be saying that."

"If that was Heather, Bear would ground her and never let her leave the house." Sammy scoffed and glanced around. "Where's Duke?"

"Still trying to get the brD out of the herd," Arizona said. "We've had Cactus up to Hidden Hills a couple of times, and they're getting close." She looked back to her daughters and the Walker boy, and another teen had joined them.

Misty hadn't grown up here, but she had in another small, Southern town, and she knew everyone knew everyone else. They knew each other's business, and they had opinions that had to grow and change as the people they knew did.

"What's brD?" Misty asked, drawing the attention of the older women again.

"Bovine Respiratory Disease," Sammy answered. "Spreads fast, but Duke caught it early."

"He did," Arizona murmured. She stepped away from the table and over to the teens. "You guys start getting the rest of the tables and chairs put away, please."

"Yes, Momma," April said, and she ducked away from the boys. Shiloh didn't seem interested in them at all, and she stuck by them as they started folding chairs and stacking them against the wall.

Arizona rolled her eyes as she came back to the table, which made Misty smile and Sammy laugh. "So," she said. "You and Link are getting back together?"

"Zona," Sammy barked.

"Who's getting back together?" another woman asked, and Misty had met this aunt already. Etta. She cut her eyes over to Misty. "Ah, I see."

"I'm glad someone does," Misty said, trying to control the pounding of her pulse. Too bad it did whatever it wanted, despite her efforts to calm herself. "I don't…know…."

"She and Link just started talking again," Janie said, finally piping up and saving Misty from herself. "I don't think they've talked about if they're back together or not." Janie plunked a full container on the table. "I mean, I'm her best friend, and I think she'd have told me if they had." She speared Misty with a look strong enough to make Misty put up one hand in surrender.

"We haven't talked about it," she said, though his words shouted in her head.

What are we doing?

She looked up and found eight eyes on her. She suddenly wanted to run, to hide, to shout that she had reasons for doing what she'd done with Link. The words stuffed down her throat, choking her, and she looked to Janie for help.

"So they're talking again," Janie said while Misty silently suffered. She turned away from the scrutiny of the Glovers, refusing to allow herself to cry in front of them.

"Come with me, honey." Gentle yet firm hands guided her away from the table and down a nearby hallway. It led into the kitchen, where dishes clattered and voices chattered.

Misty knew Etta had led her away from the others, but she couldn't look at her. Didn't know what to say.

"We all love Lincoln beyond measure," Etta said quietly, carefully, slowly. "He was never happier than when he was with you, but none of us want to see him hurt again."

"I didn't mean to hurt him," Misty said as she twisted her hands together, her gaze locked on her fingers. "It's just, I have so many knots inside me, you know? Haven't you ever just—?" She sighed out her breath and looked up helplessly. "You think you know what to do, so you make these rules for yourself, but in reality, you don't know anything. That's how things have gone with me and Link."

Etta looked at her with all the compassion in the world, and Misty couldn't fathom it. "You are a sweet woman, Misty. I don't know the source of your turmoil, but I've experienced plenty of my own in my life. We all have."

"I have so many things to make right," Misty said. "What if he won't listen to me?"

Etta smiled kindly at her. "Oh, baby, Link is the best listener on the ranch. He lives with Mitch, didn't you know?"

Misty huffed out a laugh. "Mitch only talks with his hands."

"Yeah, and he talks a lot," Etta said. "Link has to watch and listen, and he's so, so good at it." She took Misty's hands and pulled them apart. "Do not walk away from him without making him listen, okay?"

"I don't know if I can explain everything."

"Maybe just try," Etta said with a final nod. "Okay? Just try, and let God fill your mouth with words." She dropped her hands and moved to the door of the kitchen and right through it. "August, baby," Misty heard her say. "How are things looking in here?"

Misty pressed her back against the wall and took in a deep breath. She looked up toward the ceiling, not sure God would give her the strength—or the words—she needed to tell Link the real reason why she'd wanted only a casual relationship with him in the first place.

"Why do some people get families like the Glovers?" she asked the Lord. "When I got something so different? So…so inferior? So much worse than this?" Tears did press into her eyes then, and Misty didn't know how to hold them back.

She didn't want to be mad at God, but it sure felt extremely unfair that she'd experienced such a wildly different childhood and young adulthood than Lincoln had. "How do I explain it in a way he'll understand?"

Have faith and take the first step.

Misty had heard those words spoken by a Glover—Pastor Glover—several weeks ago, and now it seemed like they'd been implanted in her ears right when she needed them the most.

"What if I don't have enough faith?" she asked.

Take the first step.

After another deep, cleansing breath, Misty pushed away from the wall and faced the big room of the barn. She'd be seeing Link that evening, and she made a promise to herself and the Lord that she'd do her best to open her mouth and let Him fill it with what Link needed to hear.

The hours in the afternoon seemed to melt into seconds, and before Misty knew it, she stood in the cabin kitchen and pulled on a pair of boots she'd borrowed from the clothing tables in True Blue.

She stomped her heel down and stood. "How do I look?" She spun for Janie, who barely looked up from her phone.

"Like you're going for a stroll, not a horseback ride." She went back to her phone. "Don't you need to wear long pants to get on a horse?"

"Do you?" Misty panicked as she looked down the hall to her bedroom. "I don't have long pants. It's June. In Texas."

Knocking sounded on the door, and Misty yelped. "Just a minute," she yelled, but the door had already started to push in. Link followed it, his smile sliding from his face when he met Misty's eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, entering the house fully now and kicking the door closed behind him. He strode toward her and took her elbows into his hands as he scanned her to her feet and back to her face. "What's—what's this look on your face?"

"I don't have long pants," Misty said, just expecting him to understand what she meant.

A sexy furrow pulled between his eyes. "Okay."

"Janie says I need long pants to go horseback riding."

His face relaxed, and he chuckled low in his throat. "Ah, I see. Well, they are preferred." He glanced over to Janie, who lay on the couch watching them shamelessly. She didn't even blink as they both looked at her.

"Maybe we could just take a walk," Link said. "I've always wanted to show you the best view in town." He grinned at her, his eyebrows up, that left one always a tiny bit higher than the right.

Misty reached up and smoothed down the higher one, and Link closed his eyes softly. Misty knew then that his feelings for her hadn't changed; hers for him hadn't either, and she tucked her hand in his.

"A walk sounds good," she said. "Is it a talking spot? Or a sit-and-watch-the-sun-set spot?"

"We can talk there," he said.

"Good," Misty said. "Because I have a lot to tell you."

"Is that so?" He turned playful, but Misty's gut vibrated and boiled like she'd swallowed a whole box of baking soda and it was now reacting badly with the stomach acid.

She nodded in tight little bursts. "Yeah," she said. "So let's go before I throw up."