Page 61 of The Cowboy Who Stayed
“You have no claim on me. No right to my time, my attention, or even my kindness. You had all of those things and more for eighteen years, and you threw them away when I needed you most.”
“Never said I do, Viv,” he blurts out. “I’m simply asking if you could find it in your heart to—”
“I’m not done talking,” I snap. “Keep your mouth shut while I do. You came to Ironhaven thinking you were going to win me back by emotionally manipulating me. You thought I was still the sick, broken woman you left when things got tough. But I’m not that woman anymore, Craig, and I’ll never be again. As far as I’m concerned, you can forget you ever met a woman named Vivica Murphy. Because I’m sure as hell going to forget the sorry excuse for a husband Craig Gibson was.”
Craig gapes at me as if I’ve morphed into a whole new woman before his eyes. I’ve shape-shifted into a monster he doesn’t recognize. His mouth hangs open for a second as he struggles to respond, then he remembers to clamp it shut.
He’s in shock and doesn’t know how to process it. He never imagined the sick and struggling woman he left wouldn’t happily take him back.
I reach for Rhett’s hand, the anger fading as soon as I do. I share a fond look with him as we read each other’s mind.
Let’s go home.
We walk to the car without looking back. Rhett opens my door, first waiting for me to climb in before closing it.
He goes around to the driver’s side and slides behind the wheel. We’re strapped in with our seatbelts as he backs out, and we leave Craig dumbfounded in the hospital parking lot.
I watch him shrink until we turn the corner and he disappears entirely.
It’s the final nail in the coffin. The last time I’ll ever tolerate Craig Gibson being involved in my life in any capacity.
I’ve got much brighter things in my future, including the amazing twenty-six-year-old cowboy driving beside me and who I’m not ashamed to say I’ve fallen in love with.
EIGHTEEN
Rhett
A WEEK LATER…
Fun fact about small towns—you punch one guy in a bar and suddenly everybody knows your name. Start dating the forty-six-year-old ranch veterinarian and suddenly everybody’s got something to say about it.
I don’t give a damn. Let them talk.
It’s been a week since Vivica Murphy became my girlfriend, and I’m still riding the high. It’s a relief not having to look over my shoulder anymore. I’ve snuck to my truck from her driveway for the last time.
Now that it’s officially out in the open, we don’t have to act like cyborgs around each other at the ranch.
We don’t have to pretend anymore, and that’s a good thing.
Our relationship’s nothing to be ashamed of. It never was.
We hold hands down Main Street. I walk her to her car and kiss her goodbye in the ranch’s makeshift parking lot before she drives home. I can only grin proudly when one of the guys teases me about her and I think about how lucky I am.
Vivica Murphy is mine and I’m hers, and the whole damn town can have whatever opinion they want about it.
But the one conversation I wasn’t looking forward to was the sit-down with Andy and Buck about what happened at The Hen House.
I figured I’d walk into the ranch office and get the lecture of a lifetime; a talking to about how I represent Silver Creek and part of that is conducting myself with dignity. It’s not acceptable to throw punches in public establishments no matter how badly the other guy deserved it.
What I get instead is Andy leaning back in his chair with his arms folded, studying me as if I’m a crossword puzzle he’s trying to solve. “So you and Dr. Murphy. That serious?”
I blink, thrown by the conversation starter. I’d come by Andy’s office fully expecting to defend myself over the punch. Getting taken away in cuffs by the sheriff.
“Yes, sir,” I answer. “It’s serious.”
“How serious?” Buck asks from the corner of the room. He’s got his arms folded and an unreadable expression on his lined face. “She’s a damn good vet, and I’d hate to lose her because some ranch hand couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
“Buck,” Andy says calmly. “Let him answer.”
