Beth woke shortly after sunrise Friday morning with a dull ache in the pit of her stomach and a sadness that touched every part of her body. After she showered and dressed, the ache had subsided a little, but she could not shake the sadness. Finally, at six-fifteen, she jumped in the truck and headed for the Dillons’. She wasn’t sure why she was going and had not the slightest idea what she would say to Lang, but she needed to see him one last time.
Stillness enveloped her as she stepped from the truck, feeling foolish and intrusive. Lang’s Rover wasn’t there, but that wasn’t unusual, as he often parked at the winery. She was about to back up when she spied a lone figure on the porch, Rose in bathrobe and slippers. She waved and came down the steps.
“He’s gone, Beth. Left about five, I think. I missed him, too.”
“Oh, of course. He’d want to beat the heat.”
Rose regarded her, hazel eyes thoughtful. “There’s always his cell, you know. And Boston’s a great place to visit.”
Beth sat hard on the steps, head in hands. “Oh, Rose, what you must think of me. What a ninny I’ve been.”
Rose sat beside her and patted her knee. “I don’t think you’re a ninny. If anyone’s the ninny, it’s my brother.” Who loves you, she refrained from adding. Much as she wanted to ease Beth’s distress, they were Lang’s words to say, when he was ready.
“No, he isn’t. He’s a kind man who befriended me at a time when I desperately needed a friend. And then, what did I do? I backed him into a corner, expecting declarations of love and who knows what else, when I didn’t have the slightest idea what I was doing.”
“Give it time. Patience might be the operative word in this situation. Lang cares about you. He’ll be in touch, and I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”
Beth turned to her and smiled. Rose’s usually carefully combed hair was askew, ruffled with sleep. “Thanks, Rose. You working at the fair?”
“Oh, yes. Mother, Jon, and I are working the winery table. You?”
“Ruthie and I’ll be with the animals. My brothers come tonight. I’ll send Sam over to buy a few bottles of my favorite wines in case I don’t get out of the pens. Ruthie’s a big fan of the rides and likes to take lots of breaks.”
“Hope to see you there, but Beth, you know very well no Morgan needs to buy wine from a Dillon.”
“Yes, but Sam doesn’t know that,” Beth said, a twinkle in her eye as she rose and said her goodbyes.
Already eighty miles from home, Lang wondered if he would ever fill the loneliness he felt driving out of the Valley. This was the place he had spent his whole life escaping, and now its loss gnawed at him. He could not even distract himself with work since every other canyon found him in a dead zone and his cell phone service cut out.
His revelation to Rosie had floored him. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the realization that he loved Beth. He could not imagine living three thousand miles away from her for a day, week, or month, never mind the years that stretched ahead. He missed her beautiful eyes, gazing at him without a hint of guile. She had trusting, gentle eyes. The feel of her skin on his, her slender body, soft in places that fit him perfectly. Had it all been physical? Our emotional and intellectual fit are there. What would happen if we took a lifetime to explore the rest?
Finally, Lang decided that the best course would be to go home, settle in to familiar routines, and then plan his next move. Beth had spent much of their time together telling him what a basket case she was, but truth be told, the trip back to the Valley had thrown him for a loop in more ways than one. He didn’t want to hate his father, for example, but his feelings were so wrapped up in less than happy childhood memories and the fierce protectiveness he felt for his mother. What protectiveness? he asked himself. What the hell can I do from three thousand miles away? I’ve been perfectly happy to let Mother fend for herself and let Rosie take care of things. What a first class shit you are, Lang Dillon, he thought as he crossed the border into New Mexico. Time to prepare for the clients, he decided, and he put his pathetic life aside for a few hours, at least.