"Good news is," Hailey says, "we're going to help you forget about it for a while."
Brook pulls into the gravel parking lot of The Dusty Boot, a brick building with large windows all across the front that glow warm and inviting. A neon sign in thewindow flashes "COLD BEER" in blue and red, and I can hear the thump of bass.
Just looking at it exhausts me. All that light and noise and life—it'll want something from me I don't have anymore. I'm hollow. An empty version of who I used to be, going through the motions because my friends won't let me sit in the dark.
"I don't know if I can do this," I admit as Brook kills the engine.
"You can." Hailey opens her door. "We'll be right there with you."
Inside, The Dusty Boot smells like beer and sawdust and cologne. The place is packed—seems like half of Gritstone turned out tonight. A DJ occupies a booth in the corner, playing something upbeat that has couples spinning across the wooden dance floor.
I catch my reflection in the mirror behind the bar and barely recognize myself. Hailey spent an hour on my hair and makeup, curling and painting until I looked almost human. Almost. But no amount of mascara can hide the hollow look in my eyes, the sunken quality that comes from four days of not sleeping right, not eating right, not being right.
I'm wearing dark jeans that fit perfectly, my favorite boots, and a fitted burgundy top that usually makes me feel confident. Tonight, I look like someone who came here to have fun even though I feel like I'm barely holding myself together.
Brook and Hailey lead me toward a high-top table near the edge of the dance floor. A waitress takes our drinkorders, and the DJ transitions into a two-step. The dance floor fills with couples.
I watch them and ache for Wyatt. We should be out there, his arm around my waist, flirting and saying things that make me blush. Instead, he's three states away, probably getting ready to propose to a woman carrying his child.
The thought closes off my throat.
"Miss Kinsley?" A male voice pulls me back from the edge of tears. I turn to find one of Hank's ranch hands, Cooper I think, standing beside our table with a tentative smile. "Would you want to dance?"
I open my mouth to say no, but Brook kicks me under the table.
"She'd love to," Hailey answers for me.
Cooper offers his arm, and I take it because refusing would make a scene and I'm too tired for scenes.
He leads me onto the dance floor and settles into an easy two-step, keeping respectful distance between us. He's a good dancer, smooth and confident, the kind of partner who makes it easy to follow.
It feels completely wrong.
"So where are you from?" Cooper asks, clearly trying to make conversation. "I know you're working for the Halloways, but you're not from around here, right?"
"Cheyenne." I force myself to focus on him instead of the ache in my chest.
"What brought you to Gritstone?"
"A job." The answer sounds hollow even to me. He’s trying hard enough for both of us and I’m letting down my end of the conversation. "Land management consulting," I add.
"That's cool." He grins. "Way over my head, but cool. You liking it here?"
I almost laugh. Liking it? I fell in love with this place. With the mountains and the horses and the people. With a man who's not mine to love.
"It's complicated," I say instead.
"Fair enough." Cooper doesn't push. "You ride?”
"Yeah. Barrel racing, mostly.” I haven’t been on Rebel in five days. She’s probably feeling lost and forgotten. Grandpa’s been feeding her for me. I just … I just need another day to get my feet under me before I can walk into the barn where Wyatt rescued me from the colt, where he first touched me and woke up a part of me I didn’t know existed. “You?" I ask to turn the conversation away from me.
"Little bit of everything. Roping, mainly." He spins me under his arm. "My family's got a small place up near the border. Nothing like Stonegate, but it's home."
The conversation is easy, comfortable, the kind of small talk that fills space. Cooper's nice. But his touch doesn't set me on fire. His smile doesn't make my heart race.
I can’t help but compare him to Wyatt and his sandy blonde hair isn’t doing a thing for me. I want to be done with Wyatt. I told him to marry Brittany, gave him permission to walk away and do what he needed to do. But I don't know how I'm ever going to get over this.
The song ends, and Cooper walks me back to the table with a friendly smile and no expectations. The next dance picks up. Brook’s asked to dance by some guy I don’t know. She agrees and leaves me and Hailey at the table. I know they have an agreement to not let me be alone and I appreciate it. I watch Brook spin around. Everyone's moving on. Livingtheir lives. Finding joy in Friday nights and cold beer and good music.