Twelve Years Ago
Boone paced the length of Ivy’s bedroom while Ivy and Casey locked themselves away in the bathroom. He was sure he’d wear a hole in the damned carpet once the eternal one to three minutes were up.
They’d been careful. So freaking careful. He’d worn a condom, and she’d been on the pill. With that combination, how could—
Okay, fine. He knew how it could happen. Nothing other than abstinence was foolproof. But how could he abstain from Casey Walsh? He’d had a crush on the girl since they were nine years old and her parents had signed her up for riding lessons at the Murphy Horse Ranch.
He remembered his dad waking him at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning.
“Rise and shine, kid! We’ve got the Walsh girl from your class coming for her first lesson today. Figured you could show her the ropes, make her feel more comfortable.”
Boone had pulled the covers over his eyes and whined.
“Make Eli do it. He’s a better rider than me.”
It was bullshit, of course. All three of the Murphy brothers were expert riders soon after they’d learned to walk. But nine-year-old Boone Murphy was not a morning person. Neither was eighteen-year-old Boone, but at least he’d learned not to whine about it. Mostly.
It might have been Casey’s first ride, but she’d taken to their mare, Sundance, like a duck to water and had proven so by smoking Boone in a race around the arena. In his defense, he hadn’t known she was going to race him until she’d called, “Ready…set…go!” and taken off. But still. What a rider she was then and even to this day. That was when he fell for her, but it had taken until freshman year of high school for her finally to reciprocate.
And now the girl he’d loved for nine years was in the bathroom with her best friend, peeing on a stick to see if the decision they’d made the night of the homecoming dance had irrevocably changed both of their lives.
What the hell would they do? Casey was six months away from completing her dual-credit courses at the Salon and Cosmetology Institute in Reno. She’d been driving Adeline, her late great-grandmother’s hand-me-down sedan that Boone fixed up for her—thanks to their school offering an autos class—ninety minutes each way, three days a week, since the beginning of their junior year. Come spring, she’d have her associate’s degree and would be off to who knows where for her first job in what she promised would be nothing more than a stepping-stone to her someday opening her own salon in Meadow Valley.
“I won’t go that far. I promise,” she’d told him that night in the barn where he’d set up a picnic dinner for just the two of them after the dance. “Meadow Valley will always be home. Because you’re here. Because you’ll always be here when I need you.”
“Because I’m stuck here running a ranch that wasn’t supposed to be my responsibility for another few years,” he’d mumbled. “If my father hadn’t gotten injured, we could have—I don’t know—had this adventure together.” He shook his head. “Forget it. I’m an asshole for even thinking it.”
Instead of calling him out for being selfish, she’d kissed him instead. “The ranch was always going to be your future,” she reminded him. “But you’re allowed to mourn the loss of the time you were supposed to have before having to grow up. But I promise”—she kissed him again—“no matter what happens for either of our futures, that it will be an adventure we’ll go on together.”
He swallowed a lump in his throat at the memory. Boone had always been impulsive, spontaneous. Part of it was his defense mechanism. Maybe he couldn’t be the smart guy, but he could be the fun guy. But his life—and the level of responsibility that went with it—changed before he was mentally equipped to deal with it.
What would his reaction be now if Casey walked in and told him the test was positive—or that it wasn’t? What was the right answer to show that he loved her and could be there for her like she believed he always would be when lately he’d started feeling like he was losing his grip on keeping all the pieces of his life in their proper place?
The bedroom door opened, and Boone froze mid pace.
Casey’s eyes were red-rimmed, and she sniffled. “I’m pregnant,” she said, then let out a hiccupping sob.
Boone didn’t give himself a chance to think. He simply strode toward her and dropped down to his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Marry me, Case. Please say yes.”
She stared down at him for several long moments, silent tears running in rivulets over her cheeks.
“Okay,” she finally replied. “Let’s get married.”
She didn’t smile, but she knelt down along with him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck.
“I love you, Walsh,” he said.
“Love you, Murph,” she said right back, and then he held her while she cried.
Boone wasn’t sure where Ivy went. All he knew was that he and Casey were the only people in the room, the bedroom door having quietly closed them inside while he’d held Casey as she wept. He realized it was the first time he’d ever seen Casey Walsh cry—including the time when she was twelve and fell off the horse during a barrel-jumping lesson. She’d broken her damned collarbone and hadn’t shed a single tear.
“You’re like a superhero,” Boone had told her, and the realization of her strength and stoicism had turned into one of his nicknames—Supergirl.
“I hate that you’re seeing me like this,” Casey said as if she’d read his mind, sniffling against his neck.
“Why?” he asked, leaning back and tilting her chin up so her eyes met his. “It just means you’re even stronger than I knew, which is dumb as hell because—hello?—you’re Supergirl.”
She scoffed, then swiped her forearm under her runny nose. “Right. It’s real strong to burst into tears in front of my boyfriend because we got the whole safe sex thing wrong the one time we did it.”
He kissed her on the forehead, letting his lips linger for several long moments before pulling away.
“It takes strength to be vulnerable, Case. Don’t you get that?”
Casey huffed out a laugh. “Since when is an eighteen-year-old boy so damned wise?”
Boone shrugged. “Maybe I’m not the best at showing it, but I know a little more than horses and cars.”
This time, she smiled for real, and hell if Boone Murphy didn’t fall in love with her all over again.
“You know I think you’re smart as hell,” she declared, giving him a playful push on the shoulder. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
“I know,” he agreed softly. And he did. Even if Casey never said it, Boone knew that despite his grades not being the best, she didn’t think of him like everyone else did—as the dumbass cowboy who really only needed his diploma as a formality. Eli was already small-town famous for running the ranch while also taking premed college courses at night.
“If I get a degree as an equine veterinarian, won’t that just make me better equipped to run the ranch?” he’d explained to his parents before their father had the stroke. It also helped that Eli had already won scholarship money to Meadow Valley State College, which made the decision to let him go a no-brainer. Even now—with their father unable to be at the helm—Eli still managed to do it all.
Then there was Ash, scrawny first year as he was, already wooing the senior girls—and most of his teachers—with his guitar and original country tunes. The guy could sweet-talk his way straight to the top of the honor roll. As if he needed to.
But Boone was the odd man out. They’d tested him for dyslexia more than once, but he’d always passed with flying colors. Yet when it came to his reading scores, Boone Murphy always sat at the bottom of the ladder. He tried. God knows he tried for years. But effort never seemed to bring him success. Now that he was a senior, he’d pretty much given up. Principal Wilkes knew he was going straight on to help his brother run the ranch after graduation and had all but told him that if he kept his head down and his attendance up, Boone Murphy would walk out of Meadow Valley High School with a diploma no matter what his reading scores were.
Casey Walsh was the only one who insisted on reminding him that he was not his grades.
“You’re more than what a stupid report card says, okay?” she’d told him time and again.
And because he loved her, he believed her. She wouldn’t lie to him.
Her smile fell, and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.
The air pressure seemed to change in the room, pulling Boone from his daydream and back to the reality that would change both their lives.
“Whatever you need to say, Walsh, it’s okay,” he told her. Though he’d never seen her look so scared, which—truthfully—scared him. “You can tell me anything.”
She nodded slowly, then sucked in a breath. “We don’t have to do this,” she explained. “We have…options.”
Boone swallowed. “You mean an abortion.” It wasn’t a question.
Casey nodded again. “We can still have the lives we planned on having after graduation. I could go to school. Get my experience. And eventually open a salon right here in Meadow Valley. And you—you don’t need this kind of responsibility on your plate right now. This doesn’t have to change things.”
It wouldn’t change things—not for him. Boone Murphy was going to marry Casey Walsh one day, whether it was tomorrow or ten years from tomorrow. But he wasn’t so sure she felt the same anymore. He wasn’t sure she trusted him to be the father of her kid—now or somewhere down the line. You don’t need this kind of responsibility sounded an awful lot like You can’t handle this kind of responsibility. And the sad thing was that he didn’t blame her for thinking this.
“You’re right,” he said, not sure if he should be relieved or worried that this option was on the table. “I support whatever you decide.”
She shook her head. “It’s not my decision. But it’s also not yours. It’s ours, Boone. I think—I think I need some time to figure out what I really want. What’s best for us, you know?” She kissed him once but let her lips linger on his for a beat before she pulled away. “Ivy’s gonna walk me home. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
Casey couldn’t sleep that night, even with Ivy curled up in the bed next to her. Her parents were still downstairs at the tavern when they arrived back at the apartment, which meant avoiding the third degree of why her eyes were pink and swollen.
Once Ivy dozed off, Casey padded into the bathroom in a daze, mixing color and testing it on patches of her natural blond hair. Her final salon class—which would certify her as a colorist as well as a stylist—would finish in the spring. All she had to do was pass the written exam and demonstration, and she’d be on her way to achieving her dream. Her parents had been so supportive, despite knowing she wouldn’t continue on at Midtown Tavern, the family-run business.
What would they say if they saw her now, the bottom half of her shoulder-length hair a jumble of browns, reds, and even a couple of blues? The mess on her head didn’t begin to describe the chaos in both her head and her heart.
She loved Boone Murphy. There was no question about that. But they were kids. Who’d had sex once and now had to make one of the biggest decisions of their lives.
“Wow,” Casey heard from over her shoulder as she pivoted to see Ivy standing in the doorway. “What happened here?”
Casey glanced at the hair color stains on the counter she hoped would disappear with a magic eraser sponge. She ran her fingers through her damp, multicolored hair and let out a mirthless laugh.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Shit, Ivy. I don’t know.”
Her friend didn’t say anything, only pulled her into a hug and held her tight until Casey was ready to let go.
Finally, when they were standing face-to-face once more, Ivy spoke.
“There is no one right answer, Case. You know that, don’t you? And there is still time before you and Boone have to make any final decisions.”
Casey shrugged. “He asked me to marry him. Isn’t that answer enough as far as what he wants?”
Ivy raised her brows. “Maybe. But you and he are in this together. So explore your options. But the key word is options.”
Casey nodded.
“But first,” Ivy added, “we do have to make at least one decision right now.” She gave Casey a once-over and winced. “You have to pick a color—one color—and fix what’s going on here.” She waved her hands in an arc around Casey’s head.
Casey laughed, the tiniest weight lifting from her chest. “I’m thinking blue. But first…” She opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of salon shears. “I need to give myself a trim. Can you help me with the back?”
Ivy grinned. “How short are we going?”
Casey coiled a thick lock of red around her finger. “All the way,” she said.
No matter what decision she and Boone made, everything was about to change. Maybe starting fresh with the girl looking back at her from the mirror would give her the perspective she needed to figure out the right path.