Wes’s text message stayed unanswered through the weekend. I wasn’t ready to talk to him anytime soon. The hurt and anger that I had told myself to let go of were compounded by the events of Saturday afternoon and I couldn’t deal with it at that moment. I was so embarrassed by everything and felt like some giant joke. By the time Sunday morning rolled around I was still emotionally and physically exhausted, but I forced myself out of bed for the short workday.

Thankfully, since this is still a pretty big religious town, the shops don’t open until about 11 on Sunday mornings after the different churches around the cluster of small towns get out. There is no law or anything, but I learned quickly that it is just a waste of time because nobody is ever buying things that early. What it does allow for is the chance to get caught up on paperwork and finances, my least favorite part of owning a business.

The afternoon had a slow stream of people coming through, which allowed me to keep my mind off of things. After prepping everything for Monday morning, a had to drag my butt upstairs to my apartment because I was so tired. I didn’t have an ounce of energy left in me. I took a quick shower in the hopes it would give me some sense of normalcy and after changing into my leggings and oversized tank top I plopped down in bed and read those stupid text messages again.

The one on top was Wes telling me he was done with me. The one on the bottom was telling me he was sorry. Part of me wishes I could forget the hurt and pain caused by that first text message, but it’s impossible. It takes all the will in the world, but I exit out of the text messages and put my phone away for the night.

“Wow, you look exhausted.” Kathy almost gasps when I walk into the bakery early Monday morning. I have to laugh, but she’s right. I didn’t even put anytime into my appearance today. I slept maybe 2 hours last night and I’ve already had two cups of coffee. I decided to forgo the makeup for that second cup.

“Really? I feel totally well-rested and ready to face the day!” I responded with a bit of sass.

“At least your sarcasm is in check!” Kathy winks at me.

I smirk back at her, “Thank god for small miracles.”

We both got back to work, I took over the baking and she was working on setting up the pastries in the front of the shop. When she came back, she leaned against one of the counters and cross her arms. “So I was with some of the ladies from church yesterday afternoon and you should probably know that word of your little argument has made its way around.”

I let out a frustrated groan. “Of course, it has. Thank you small-town gossip machines.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not more than we already have and what you apparently already heard.”

“Fair enough. I must say, I think it is interesting that as small as our town is and as well connected we are with Valley View, nobody ever mentioned Wes’s daughter to you.”

“No kidding, Kathy. Where were you in this whole thing?” I ask her as my sass comes back.

I smile at her so she knows I’m not serious. Kathy has become such a mother-like figure to me. She gives me great advice, business and personal, and although I’m giving her some crap right now, I really do appreciate that she’s trying to mend me right now. “Hey now, don’t look at me. I didn’t know I needed to give you the rundown of every guy you date.”

“You should. If nothing else, that would have made my outburst last night less embarrassing.”

“Well, I’ll make a deal with you, next time some hunk of man gets you all hot and bothered, I’ll pull you back and tell you every detail I know about him.”

I laugh at her openness, “I like that deal.”

She rolls her eyes and walks to the front of the store with some of the goods that we finished. I’m about to grab a tray of things when my phone dings with a text message. Against my better judgment, I swiped up and looked at the message.

Wes: Holly, please. I just want to clear the air between us.

.

Wes: That’s fine. Can I take you out for dinner?

Wes: Can I at least talk to you in person? Please.

Wes: No, I’ll make the time.

I sigh and slip the phone into my back pocket. I know I don’t owe him anything, but I guess he wants to apologize in person and I should probably apologize too. Then we can both move on with our lives. Knowing now that he is Tiff’s brother-in-law, there is no doubt that our paths will probably cross multiple times. We may not be destined for romance, but at least we can be adults and amicable.

After locking up the bakery, I walked to the back door to head upstairs. Right as I open the back door I see Wes pulling into the back parking lot. I decide to be nice and wait for him rather than making him ring the doorbell and get buzzed up. I look down at myself and I feel a bit self-conscious because I probably look like I lost a fight with a bag of flour, but when he comes into the light I realize that he doesn’t look much more put together.

With faded jeans covered in mud and a white shirt that has more than one sweat stains, he looks like he came straight from working on the ranch too. A ranch that I have since learned he doesn’t just work on, his dad owns, and being the oldest of the Brown Brothers, will probably be his one day. But I guess that is neither here nor there.

“Hey, Holly.” His lip curls up in a small smile.

“Hi, Wes,” I reply back so awkwardly.

“Thanks for letting me come talk to you.”

I nod at him, “Of course, but please don’t get any ideas. You wanted to clear the air, this is your chance. When you’re done, we are going to go our separate ways.”

“I get it.” He follows me up the stairs to my front door. Once we’re inside we make our way over to the couch. I take a seat, but he stands there looking like he’s questioning everything.

“Um, I’m kind of dirty, is it okay if I sit?” He gestures up and down his body.

“I’m covered in sweat and flour and I’ll probably crash here for the rest of the night, it’s fine.”

Wes takes a seat next to me and we sit in silence for a bit. I play with the hem on my t-shirt and Wes takes his cowboy hat off and sets it on the coffee table and runs both hands through his hair while making this noise that is somewhere between a growl and a sigh.

“Okay, Wes. You wanted to talk and we’re both here, so what did you want to say?”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not telling you about Annabelle “

I huff out a laugh, “Is that all?”

“No. That isn’t all I wanted to say.”

“Okay, go on.” I sit back and let him have the floor. He’s got some explaining to do.