Sweet Home Montana by Shann McPherson

Author:Shann McPherson [McPherson, Shann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-07-02T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

I slept away most of the afternoon.

Tripp was still on the road, Cash was elbow-deep in muck, busy helping one of the ranch hands with a heifer in breech, or something equally as gross, and the house was quiet. I needed sleep. I slept a total of three hours last night, and not much more than that since I’ve been back in Montana. I needed sleep because I needed to clear my head in preparation for my impending conversation with Colt.

I only intended on lying down, maybe napping for an hour or so, but somehow, I managed to fall into a deep sleep, and when I woke night had fallen outside my bedroom window, and the small clock on my bedside table told me it was almost eight-thirty.

I fly bolt upright.

Surely he’ll be home by now, right?

Unless my suspicions were correct and he is out. What if he’s on a date? What if his date wants to carry on their night together? Oh God, what if I show up at the cabin and he has someone there? Surely not. He knows I’m coming to speak to him.

A quick shower, a fresh change of clothes, and half a grilled cheese sandwich later, I’m now sitting in the great room with the crackling fire warming me from across the room, staring at the clock on the mantel, trying to muster the courage I need to get the hell out of here, get in my car, and drive across the ranch to the cabin.

My heart races at the thought of seeing Colt. I’m so nervous. I’ve never been this nervous. I know I need to open up to him, to tell him the truth, that I never stopped loving him, and that being back has made me realize that I never will stop loving him, but I’m so frightened he’s going to shut me down again, and I’m not sure my heart can handle it. I consider myself a reasonably strong woman. Not a lot gets to me. I’m this way because my father raised me this way; he raised me in a way to be nothing like my mother. But Colt, he’s that one person who could end it all for me. He has the power to take away my strength, to leave me a depleted mess on the floor without effort or reason. He doesn’t realize it but he holds my heart in the palm of his hand, and with just one look of unaffected indifference, he can crush it to within an inch of its last beat.

The clock chimes, and I sit up a little straighter counting the gongs.

It’s ten o’clock.

Surely he has to be home by now.

But what if I’m too late? What if he’s in bed?

Get a goddamn grip, Quinn.

I swallow the anxiety lingering at the back of my throat, and I stand, smoothing down the front of my jean shirt, nervously tucking my hair behind my ear. I need to leave now before I can manage to somehow talk myself out of it.

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