I know exactly how I want the rest of my life to go.
“Let me think,” I say as I sit up and tap my finger to my chin. “I want a cat. And a dog. Maybe some chickens.”
He laughs. “All doable.”
“And I want wildflowers everywhere. A house surrounded by them.”
His smile widens. “Again, doable.”
“And I want you. Forever. A family. I want to teach our children the way your mother taught you guys, and I want to raise them with you.”
Dylan leans in and presses his lips to my forehead. My skin sizzles where his lips linger. “I can give you all of that and so much more.”
“Good.” I smile, my entire world right here on this swing with me.
“I love you, Emma.”
“I love you too, Dylan.” As he pulls away, I lay my head against his shoulder again, soaking in every second of this moment. It doesn’t matter that we’re young. Dylan and I were made for each other. Both of us placed in each other’s lives by God.
And I’ll spend every day of my life thanking Him for that.
With Ash curled up beside me and my Bible open in my lap, I wipe tears from my eyes as the memory of that peaceful night lingers in my mind. We were so young—so naïve to believe that we had a future ahead of us.
Yet here I sit at three o’clock in the morning, propped up against the headboard, chasing sleep that continues to outrun me.
I’ve cried until my eyes hurt, prayed until I had no words left, and now I sit here, staring at the wall, wishing that I could at least talk to him. But since Tucker told me that Gio and Heath could be monitoring my cell phone and email, I have to avoid using either.
Groaning, I set my Bible aside and lay back in the bed. Ash yawns and stretches before moving toward the foot of the bed and curling up again.
“Lord, why is this happening to me?” I whisper aloud to the empty room.
I’ve never been much for confrontation. It just never felt worth it to me. By the time a situation has escalated to the point of an argument, both sides are typically so rooted in their reason for the argument that there’s no chance of trying to rationally get a point across.
But I’d welcome a confrontation with Dylan right now because it means he’d be here to fight. Maybe if he were, I could convince him that he needs to let the authorities handle this so that he can stay safe.
Maybe I could convince him that my life means nothing if he’s not in it—even from a distance. That him being killed would be worse than any fate Gio or Heath Slater have in store for me.
Would he care then?
If he knew that losing him would cost me everything?
Chapter 19
Dylan
“You’re wasting your time trying to protect me,” Harlow says from her bed. She’s sitting up and thumbing through a magazine as if she didn’t nearly die yesterday. It’s been like this ever since she woke up from the anesthesia. She’s barely spoken unless it’s to tell us that we’re wasting our time on her.
Thankfully, as soon as the nurses finish the discharge paperwork, we’re headed back to the ranch. And whether she likes it or not, Harlow is coming with us. Something she’s been pretending isn’t going to happen.
But even if I have to throw her over my shoulder to get her there, she will be in Pine Creek by the end of the day.
Even Tucker got tired of her arguing, so he headed downstairs to get us both coffee while the nurses work on her paperwork. We’re mere hours away from going home, and I can’t wait. Emma’s been on my mind all day.
Just as she was on my mind all night.
“It wouldn’t be a waste of time if you’d tell me what I want to know,” I counter.
“I can’t give you anything else.”
