Praying for Daylight (19 page)

“But you don’t love me?”

He looked so sad.

“Oh, Dustin.” I smoothed his hair off his forehead, thinking he was even cuter when he was hopped up on drugs. “You’re just a little loopy right now, so I thought I’d save what I wanted to tell you ‘til you woke up fully.”

He groaned, “Kate, I almost died. You should tell me everything now. I’m in bad shape.”

I laughed, “You didn’t almost die. Stop being so dramatic.”

He started to laugh, “Right, me, dramatic…think we can get some mashed potatoes?”

I shook my head, fluffing his pillow and grabbing the remote. “Let’s just watch some TV.”

“Still waiting over here…” he said impatiently. “Need to know how you feel, in case I don’t make it.”

“I don’t think you’ll remember this conversation, but Dustin, I love you.”

“Knew it.”

“Cocky,” I kissed his cheek.

He smirked, “Happy too.”

***

Two days after Dustin was sent home from the hospital, he ended up on my front porch. I was at the farmhouse, alone. Cheyenne, Jake, and Ben were staying at the McCree’s since our house wasn’t fully furnished yet.

I didn’t mind being around everyone, but after what had happened, I needed some quiet. All the people wanting to know how I was, overwhelmed me.

“You aren’t supposed to be up and around yet.” I helped Dustin over to the couch, and propped his leg up like the nurse showed us before we’d left the hospital.

“Yeah, mamma got sick of me,” he looked embarrassed and shook his head.

I frowned, “What did you do?”

“I kept talking about you— too much apparently,” He chuckled, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “She said you could watch me for a while.”

I tried not to laugh, but it was hard. Dustin did not make a good patient. “Must have been really annoying, for her to dump you on me.”

“Yeah, she dropped my duffle on the porch and everything.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “So when are you going back?”

“To L.A.?” I asked, already knowing that’s what he meant.

“Yeah…”

“Well, once the sheriff tells me I can go. But I don’t think that’s going to be for a while. I’ll have to come back for Perry’s trial anyway, so I think I can just stay here.” I watched his expression fill with surprise. “Jake’s going to find a recording studio, or maybe I can build one in the shed out back. I’ll do my second album here, then I’ll tour for a few months and come back.”

“Really?” He stared at me as if I had two heads. “Kate, why not just go back to the city? I’m sure you’ve got fans and stuff waiting for you.”

I scooted close to him on the couch, and locked my arm with his. “I love my fans, but I am not in love with them.”

“Kate, I would love it if you stayed, but don’t feel like you have to…” I slapped my hand over his mouth.

“Will you be quiet?” I let out a huff and felt him smile against my palm. “I talked to Cheyenne last night about it. I belong here. She wants to go back with Jake. That’s what makes her happy. And, if my career suffers a little, so what? I’ve got enough money to get the farm up and running, and keep it running for the rest of my life.”

“Kate, I just want you to be happy.” He pulled my hand from his mouth, putting his good arm around me. “If staying makes you happy, please, stay forever.”

“Oh, it does,” I smiled up at him. “And I think I’ll be even happier if I converted you from cowboy to farmer.”

He frowned, “What?”

“How would you feel, being here with me on a farm, and not on a ranch?”

He chewed his bottom lip, “Yeah, I’m not good with chickens.”

“Neither am I,” I laughed. “I was thinking cows.”

He snorted, “Kate Kelly, are you going to go and turn rancher on me?”

“What if I was?” I smirked. “Think you could handle me?”

“Hell yeah,” he swooped in for a kiss. “I’d be happy to
farm
cattle with you.”

I wound my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Good, because your ancestors are about to have their wish come true.”

“Really?”

“O’Brian’s have been after the Kelly land for years. Wouldn’t it be sweet if a Kelly willingly partnered with an O’Brian?” I pulled his hat off and flung it across the room.

“I don’t inherit the ranch until my dad retires…” he sent mine flying with it.

“So?” I leaned back and hugged him tighter. “Our pieces of land fit together perfectly, who says we gotta’ wait ‘til then?”

He smiled, pulling me in for another kiss, “No one…but we may have to rename it.”

I smiled, “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

Epilogue

Dustin

Seven years later, the Kelly farm and the O’Brian ranch, had merged into one big spread. It took some legal work, and some negotiating, that included my mother begging for grandchildren, but it was done.

The farm and the ranch had merged.

It was called the OK Ranch. We used the first letters of Kelly and O’Brian to come up with the new name. Everyone knew it for being the product of two crazy kids that fell in love, and decided to stick it out through gun fights, country music awards shows, and the occasional visit from fans trying to get onto the property.

I was still a cowboy. Still a rancher. But things changed not long after I showed up on Kate’s porch. For one thing, I didn’t really go home again after that. The Kelly house became my home, and eventually, I was there with Kate, full time. We painted it, fixed loose boards, and argued about which pancakes to make for dinner. And in doing that, we made the Kelly house more than just a house. It was a home. Our home. It was our place where no one could peer in and ask questions.

That’s what Kate’s fans did. They asked a lot of questions. Wanted to know all about me, and her, and our life together. But we told them nothing. They saw what the tabloids put out, and they read about us when we traveled for Kate’s tours, but that was it.

We were the second largest ranch in McCree, and today Kate and I were at the largest ranch, seated on an old bench under a tree, watching Briar walk down the aisle to become Chase’s wife.

“She looks beautiful,” Kate said, admiring Briar’s lacey dress.

I nodded, eyeing the green dress she wore with a pair of worn boots. “Almost as pretty as you.”

Kate hushed me, swatting my arm, “Stop it.”

“You know it’s ture.”

Throughout the ceremony, I felt myself sweat. Nervous and wondering if anyone would object, or if the bride would faint, or if McCree would be able to get the ring on her finger without the thing dropping from his shaking hands. He was nervous, poor guy, but really happy. His grin was so big, I wondered how much his face would hurt later tonight.

“So, what do you think?” I asked Kate as we took to the dance floor after the ceremony. Chase and Briar were posing with family for pictures, and a few dogs raced around with one of the flower girls.

“About?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck as we swayed to a slow song.

“About this,” I motioned around me. “Cake, fancy clothes, people staring…you know, I could do it.”

She smiled, “Dustin, are you trying to propose to me?”

“What if I was?” I gulped. Man, I didn’t think it would be this nerve-racking. I let out a breath, “I love you. You love me. This seems like the next step.”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the crowd of possible onlookers and down the hill toward the creek. “Look, you know I’m not all poetic and stuff. I’m having a hard time putting it to you like it’s going in my head. I’m nervous.”

She smiled, shading her eyes against the sun, “Dustin, this is me. You don’t have to be so worried about what I’m going to say. You already know what my answer will be.”

“Hey, no man wants to get his proposal shot down,” I said, rubbing my hands on my pants. I was sweating something awful. “I don’t have a ring yet. I wasn’t sure what kind you like.”

“I’ll like whatever you get me, you know that.”

“Why are you making this so easy on me?” I loosened my tie. For some reason I couldn’t make my knees bend. I was afraid if I knelt down, I wouldn’t get back up.

“Because I love you, you big goof.” She sat on a rock and looked up at me. “Now propose before I get down on my knee and ask you.”

I took off my hat, and drew a deep breath, as I knelt in front of her. “Kate, I love you. Will you marry me?”

She smiled, “Sure will.”

I glared at her. “What about yes? What’s this, sure will? That’s not romantic.”

“Dustin!” she flung her arms wide and sighed dramatically. “You are the love of my life, and my knight in shining armor. Of course I will do you the honor of becoming your blushing bride. Is that better?”

I sat next to her on the rock and laughed, “It was horrible.”

She hooked her arm with mine and we watched the people dancing and congratulating Briar and Chase. “You and me, we work. That’s what it is when you get right down to it. I can’t see myself talking to anyone else like I talk to you. I’d never see me loving them either.”

“Yeah, so I guess it was just a matter of time.” I kissed her cheek. “I knew you’d say yes.”

“But darling,” she peered up at me, “I never actually said yes.”

“Horse shit. You just said you’d be my blushing bride.”

“Please, you know I’m no blusher,” she said. “And honestly, we don’t have to get married. We know we’re going to be together; a couple of rings and a piece of paper don’t mean anything, except that we’re legal.”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to get a dress and do it up fancy?”

“No, I’d love to do that, so we’ll get married.”

“Confusing woman.”

“Honey, you’ve got the rest of our lives to figure me out.” She gripped the front of my shirt and pulled me closer, “Now kiss me before I change my mind.”

I grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

 
Thank you for reading
Praying for Daylight
by J.C. Isabella.

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Now available!

The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club

© 2012 J.C. Isabella

Those seeking membership to this elite and prestigious unofficial organization must pledge their unwavering devotion.

Please raise your right hand.

I (insert name here) vow to uphold the sisterhood, protect the secrets and identities of the members in the fan club, and swear a lifetime of devotion to the one and only Zack Warren.

Chloe

Under the fragrant limbs of a magnolia tree, an unofficial meeting was held. The meeting’s subject matter was nothing related to science. It was dedicated to one person, a special person, or so the attendees thought.

I knew the truth—that the meeting was a waste of time and a show of stupidity.

From my seat high in the bleachers I watched, feeling like an outsider. I haven’t been to an unofficial meeting since the fifth grade, the day I wised up, and now it was nearing spring break of my freshman year of college.

It’s been a long time. Sometimes I think it hasn’t been long enough.

I’m friends with a lot of the girls…until they gather for their meeting and I’m forced to make a choice: Be part of the craziness or pretend to ignore it.

Normally I was good at ignoring it.

This was not the case today.

Despite my dislike of the meeting’s reason for existing, I felt a little nostalgic. This was the last chance I’d have to attend an unofficial meeting. After today, no one could ever know about my association with the club. It was imperative.

I closed my eyes, warring with choices and the potential repercussions of them. But I knew when I once again looked on the group that the decision had been made. I was only stalling.

For old time’s sake, I’d join them, and while I was at it, hopefully talk some sense into them.

I grabbed my backpack and climbed down the metal walkway from the bleachers and walked across freshly mowed grass. The group was chattering excitedly, hushed giggles tumbling toward me.

There were about thirty girls from all walks of social life sitting in the grass under the tree. Band geeks, theater kids, cheerleaders, physics majors, a few seniors, and normal girls like me…all gathered harmoniously.

In this club, everyone was equal.

“Well, look who it is,” one of the cheerleaders said, drawing attention to my presence. “This, ladies, is Chloe Baker.”

A couple of the girls gasped, and I winced uncomfortably. “Hey.”

“
The
Chloe Baker?” a little blonde questioned.

“Yep.”

My friend Lana beamed. “She is the reason why we gather every week.”

Oh, God. I might as well have a plaque beneath the tree with my name on it.

Lana continued, “Once upon a time there was a girl who had an enormous crush on a boy, but she wasn’t the only one, so she started a fan club for the girls who worshiped him.”

“The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club!” they all cheered.

“And I never thought it would last.” I sank to the ground cross-legged, wondering what had possessed me to attend this meeting, and how it had followed me half a state away to college.

Nostalgia was for idiots and Zack Warren was trouble.

I knew it the first time I saw him in second grade. The boy had
heartbreaker
written all over him. He was two years older, wiser. He did a backflip off the jungle gym, landing right at my feet with a cocky grin, and getting dirt all over my new pink Keds.

He didn’t apologize.

Instead, he’d dropped a lizard on my head and called me
prissy
.