ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace. She was beginning to think coming to the ranch had been a very bad idea. Maybe she should have gone somewhere no one knew her like the beach, on a cruise, the other side of the world.
Her phone buzzed, drawing her out of a daydream about lying in the sun in the Caribbean. When she saw that it was Michael, her bottom lip quivered. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her heart broke into even more pieces. How many times had seeing his name on her phone display made her smile? Sent joy coursing through her heart? Too many to count. But now it just made her want to crush the phone in her hand until it was nothing but dust. With her fingers shaking, she blocked his number. And then the tears started to fall again.
She curled into the bed and covered her head with a pillow, hoping it muffled the sound enough that no one would hear her. Having an unexpected guest drop in was bad enough. But having that guest turn into a blubbering mess was even worse.
Still, she couldn’t help it. She’d thought putting distance between her and Michael would be a good thing, but she actually felt worse. And she couldn’t contain the hurt anymore, so she let it flow out as quietly as she could when what she really wanted to do was scream and wail and ugly cry until there was nothing left inside her.
Linnea fell asleep with her clothes on and the tears still flowing. When she woke the next morning, she realized it was because she heard Owen, Garrett and their dad getting ready to head out to work. Judging by how she felt, she knew she had to be quite a sight with her puffy, itchy eyes, stuffy nose and pounding headache. And her body ached as if she’d been body-slammed.
She lay in the bed staring at the ceiling as footsteps came down the hall, then paused for a moment outside her door before moving on. Was it Owen? His dad? Owen had always been the wildest of the Brody clan, according to Chloe, moving from job to job and never one to turn down an opportunity to have a good time. But the night before, he’d acted more like his sister, caring and offering a helping hand. Maybe she’d looked as fragile as she’d felt, and he’d been afraid she’d break.
After the house grew quiet, she still couldn’t force herself out of bed. She hated feeling so miserable, so pathetic, but she just couldn’t muster the energy to move.
Several minutes later, she heard a door open and close and wondered if one of the guys had forgotten something. But then there was a light knock on her door.
“Lin? You awake?” Chloe asked.
She thought about not answering, letting Chloe think she was asleep, but her friend had given her a place to retreat to. The least she could do was thank her for that. “Yeah.”
The door opened slowly before Chloe poked her head through the opening. “Hey. How are you doing?”
Linnea took a shaky breath. “I’ve been better.”
Chloe came fully into the room and sat on the side of the bed. She took one of Linnea’s hands between hers. “I’m so sorry. I want to do Michael bodily harm for hurting you, betraying you like that.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Did he give you any sort of explanation why he’d be that cruel?”
“I didn’t give him the chance.”
“Well, good. I can’t imagine a single thing he could say that would make him any less of a worthless human being.”
Linnea knew everything Chloe was saying was true, but it still hurt. She didn’t want Michael to be a worthless human being. She wanted the past twenty-four hours to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare brought on by bad seafood. She desperately wanted to wake up from that nightmare to find that Michael was the loving, caring man he’d been over the past six months. But as she looked at the righteous anger in her best friend’s eyes, she knew every horrible moment had been all too real.
Chloe squeezed Linnea’s hand in what felt like a grip of solidarity. “I’m going to make you some French toast. It’s never failed us before.”
True, French toast had become their go-to breakfast whenever anything went wrong in college—bad grade, rotten date, even breakups. But this was so far beyond even the awesome healing properties of French toast.
“Don’t you need to get to work?”
“I can go in later.”
Linnea shook her head. “I don’t want you shifting your life around for me.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re my best friend. This is what best friends are for.”
Linnea placed her free hand atop Chloe’s. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think anything is going to help how I feel right now other than time. Or possibly a lobotomy.”
The helpless look on Chloe’s face nearly made Linnea cry again. But, bless her, Chloe nodded before she leaned forward and wrapped Linnea in her arms. Linnea had to bite her lip to keep tears from falling.
“You need anything, no matter how small or how big, you let me know. I know you like to be alone to deal with things, but sometimes it doesn’t feel right, like now. It feels like I’m abandoning you.”
Linnea pulled away. “You’ve given me the one thing I need most, a place to get away.” A place to hide, a voice in her mind said. “Though I do feel bad about being in the way of your dad and brothers.”
“Don’t worry about that. And you know they’ve always liked you.”
“Did you tell them what happened?”
Chloe shook her head. “No. That’s not my place. Though Dad knew the wedding was off when I talked to him last night.”
Linnea nodded. “I told Owen since I showed up out of the blue. Sorry I didn’t call you back and let you know I was coming. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No need to apologize. You’re here now, and you can stay however long you want to.”
“Thanks.” She glanced toward the sun streaming in the window, the cheery brightness so at odds with her mood. The downpour the night before had been a more suitable match.
Chloe stood, drawing Linnea’s attention away from the window. “I’ll go and get out of your hair. Make yourself at home, okay?”
Linnea nodded. When she heard the front door close, she tried to force herself from the bed. But in the end, she slid back under the covers and sank into her heartache again. In that moment, she hated Michael every bit as much as she’d ever loved him. This time, her tears were born of anger that he’d made her feel this way, that he’d stolen her will to even get out of bed and face the day.
When she woke again, the morning was about to give way to afternoon. She ached even worse than she had earlier that morning, and that, more than anything else, prompted her to finally get up. She walked to the window and looked out over the gentle rise and fall of the ranch that spread for miles. It was so different from where she’d grown up and now lived in Dallas, but she’d always liked it. She’d never met anyone who fit their surroundings more than the Brodys. It was as if the land were a member of their family, their flesh and blood. The closest she’d ever come to that kind of connection with a place was her shop, but when she thought of it now it felt as if that relationship had been stabbed in the heart,
