Remember Arizona: A Second Chance Romance (Country Love Collection) Read online

  Now, it was only the thought that next year, we’d be leaving Arizona together that was getting me through having to say goodbye one more time.

  When he didn’t reply, I looked back again to see his focus completely captured by something in his hand.

  “What’s that?”

  He glanced at me and taunted, “Your birthday present.”

  “What?” I gaped.

  With a self-satisfied grin, he hid whatever it was in his grasp and reclined back on his elbows, giving me a full-frontal view of his wide, toned chest and carved abs. His hair was long enough to be pulled back now, the smooth black outlined the angles of his face and matched the dark, silky color of his eyes.

  “Your present, Tally,” he repeated, holding up his right fist like I could see through it. Jerk.

  My eyes snagged on his new accessory. This summer, he’d come back to Bisbee with an arrow tattooed on the inside of his bicep—one of the ideas we’d talked about the year before. He and his dad had gotten matching ones.

  The simple design stretched over muscles that grew every time he returned from the reservation. When I’d jumped him in the hallway the day he got back, he’d picked me up as though I weighed no more than a feather.

  “What is it?” My eyes narrowed.

  I wouldn’t put it past him for it to be another peanut he was going to toss at me as soon as I got close enough.

  His mouth quirked in a half smile. It was kind of unreal what that smile did to his face. The way it lit every smooth line and melted my insides in the same instant. It was only reluctantly that I admitted Sam Deschenes had grown kind of gorgeous.

  Not kind of.

  Just gorgeous.

  For some time now, I realized it was probably a good thing he didn’t go to school with me. I wasn’t sure I could handle watching any of the girls in my class ogle and vie for his attention. And if he were to date one of them… I shuddered and shoved the thought down deep along with the butterflies and goose bumps that came with his presence. I couldn’t have a crush on him. I wouldn’t let myself. He was my best friend.

  “Come see.”

  Even if it was a trick, I could never turn away from that smile. Returning to the blanket, I dropped to my knees and rested back on my heels.

  Extending my palm, I arched my eyebrow. “This better not be a trick.”

  His laugh was soft, weighed down by something that flashed in his eyes—something bright and hot now that I was close to him.

  “Not a trick,” he promised. “Not this.”

  His hand came over mine, his fingers brushing against my palm, and only once the heat from his touch disappeared could I feel the warm weight left behind.

  “Sam… what…” I trailed off, staring in awe at the beautiful turquoise ring in my hand. The wide silver band framed the rich lapis-teal color that wrapped completely around it, broken up by veins of brown snaking through. “Is this… from the stone you found? Is this the Bisbee Blue?”

  Last summer when we’d come up here exploring, Sam had found a stone that was the most vibrant deep blue we’d ever seen, streaks of red-brown weaving through it like earth drawn through sky. When we’d shown Mee-Maw, she’d been floored and then, with excitement, told us about Bisbee Blue.

  In addition to copper, the Lavender Pit had unearthed huge amounts of turquoise in the ‘waste rock’ when the mine was active. Ranging through every shade of brilliant blue, the turquoise was collected, traded, and sold, gaining both notoriety and value and, ultimately, given the name ‘Bisbee Blue’. Now, the exquisite semiprecious stones were rare and highly collectible. And valuable.

  Especially this shade.

  The stone Sam had found was lapis blue turquoise, the highest grade and most expensive of all Bisbee turquoise.

  “Did you make this?” I whispered.

  He chuckled. “You should see your face.”

  I reached out and smacked his arm. “Don’t be a jerk. Did you make this?”

  His expression settled and he nodded.

  “Been working a lot with my dad in the shop, fixing things, working with metals,” he replied. “Seems crazy to carry around a rock, so I decided to make something with it.”

  He leaned back and reached into his pocket, stealing my attention—and my breath—when his hand pulled his jeans a little lower, giving me a glimpse of where his hips cut in with a sharp V that led down to—

  “It’s beautiful,” I said with a strangled voice, locking my gaze back on the ring. “I can’t believe you made this.”

  He’d made me a ring with his stone. A stone he could’ve sold. Or done a million other things with.

  “Made myself one, too.” Returning from his pocket, his hand opened up to reveal a second ring.

  “How many did you make?” A sudden pang having me wonder if I wasn’t the only girl he’d given one to.

  He looked at me strangely. “Only these two,” he replied like I’d missed the obvious.

  My cheeks heated. “Oh.”

  “I was only going to make one, but this was my first attempt, and I didn’t like how it turned out.” He flipped his ring along his knuckles.

  My heart began to thud loudly in my ears. Resting one hand on the blanket, I sat back and folded my legs in front of me. Taking the ring, I quickly realized it was too large to fit on any other finger except my thumb—and even that was a little too small to hold it safely—but I wasn’t going to say anything. It was still the best birthday gift I’d ever gotten.

  “It’s incredible.” I breathed, my eyes tracing along the brown web that spread through the bright teal. “Bisbee Blue.”

  “I call it Tally Turquoise.”

  I sucked in a breath. “What? Why?”

  I tried to laugh it off, but something strange was happening to my body, and I couldn’t control it—couldn’t control how the wall of friendship that had built between us for so long began to crumble under the onslaught of something more… feelings that were far from friendly.

  He sat up, mirroring my seat so our knees were bumping against each other, and shrugged. “Because it’s the color of your eyes.”

  We’d been out in the sun all day, and I’d never felt as hot as I did right then. The way his words were firm but soft. How his gaze slid from his ring up over my legs and chest, lingered on my lips, and finally settled on mine.

  My mouth parted but no sound came out, and we stared for a long moment, before he broke away, his jaw tensing.

  “Do you have to go back?” I murmured.

  Sam sighed. “You know I do. Have to help my dad. The shop wouldn’t survive without me.”

  I worried at the heavy responsibility in his tone. Sam loved his dad, and he loved the sense of purpose he felt being there at the garage to help. But I worried because we were just teenagers, and sometimes, it seemed like Sam was becoming more the parent than he was the child.

  “I have to work so I can save money for school.”

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat. He always knew what to say to get me on board.

  Sam’s dad was poor and his mother was a well-respected, but not wealthy, local artist in Bisbee. Not that they needed much money to live—or more than they had—but Sam had plans—plans to go to college with me. And even with scholarships and federal aid, he’d been working, both with his dad and at the new casino that opened up in Navajo Nation, and saving every penny to go to New York.

  “You promise we’re going to New York?” I asked quietly, my fingers rolling the ring around my thumb.

  My attention snapped up when he reached under my chin and lifted my face. “I told you, I was. You don’t believe me?”

  I sighed. “I do.”

  “I’m not going to leave you behind, Tally,” he swore.

  Over the years, Sam realized my greatest fear. After my dad left and my mom dropped me off at Mee-Maw’s when I was five and never came back, there was a weed of fear inside me that anyone I cared about was going to leave. It was a weed that, no matter ho
w many times I chopped it down, it grew right back.

  But Sam… he didn’t mind the countless times he’d had to reassure me. He didn’t mind having to pull the weed every time my fear rose up.

  “Not even if you go back and find a girlfriend?”

  “Why would I do that, Tally?” he snorted and shook his head. I was comforted for a beat until his face drifted closer, his forehead coming to rest against mine. “You know it’s you and me.”

  I sucked in a breath, my heart exploding in my chest.

  Was this it?

  Was this Sam telling me he felt more for me than friendship, just like I did? Was this the part where all the long looks, the constant small touches, the toe-curling stares, all came to light? Was he waiting to hear I felt the same? Was he waiting to hear I wanted him to kiss me again? For real real this time?

  His mouth hovered a few small breaths from mine.

  Or was this Sam reminding me that we were best friends and always would be?

  My heart dropped like a wrecking ball into my stomach, blasting open a giant pit and, instead of his words uprooting the weed of fear, it watered it. And, as afraid as I was of being left behind, the thought of being left heartbroken was a thousand times worse.

  “Best friends,” I replied weakly. “Against the world.”

  His face shadowed and he pulled back, offering a quick smile but it was too late. I knew I’d made the wrong choice. We’d just toed the line of stepping out of the friend zone, and I’d backed away.

  “We should get going,” he said gruffly. “Mee-Maw will be mad if we’re late for chili night.”

  Eighteen Years Old

  Sam,

  I should’ve told you before you left. I should’ve told you that day at the pit. I feel more for you. More than friendship. And I think I have for a long time now.

  I was afraid. Afraid things would change between us. But now I know they have to change. I can’t keep this inside anymore. I can’t even keep it inside until I see you next. I like you. I more than like you. It’s never happened before, but I think this is how love goes. And I think it makes sense that you’re the first—only person I’ve felt this for.

  I knew the words of my note because they’d burned themselves into my heart as I wrote them. A flaming inscription that ached with each day that passed since I’d mailed the letter inside the box with his birthday present. I knew the mail would take a few days to reach Navajo Nation, but I’d checked the tracking yesterday and saw Sam’s dad had signed for the package.

  I sent him a birthday present every year and not once—not until this time—had he not texted me to thank me.

  Of course, this would be the time I included my confession of love along with it.

  “What’s wrong, Talia?” Mee-Maw poked a head through the doorway; she always knew when something was bothering me.

  Her white hair was permed and pulled back with a bright orange headband, and she had on her famous chili apron, so I didn’t even have to ask what was for dinner.

  “I just haven’t heard from Sam about his present.” I curled tighter to the pillow under my chest. I was lying on my bed, staring at my phone, like that could will it to buzz.

  “So just message him,” she replied simply.

  I huffed. “I don’t want to annoy him. Plus you know he doesn’t get good service on the reservation, and he has to pay for his own phone bill…”

  Another thing that made the months apart harder.

  “Message him or I will.” She winked at me.

  “Mee-Maw!” I hollered after her. “I’m doing it!”

  Groaning, I tapped out a quick text.

  Hey, did you get my present?

  I was surprised when a response came almost immediately.

  Yeah. Thanks.

  I felt sick. Was that it? That couldn’t be it?

  My hands shook as I replied, Did you like it? Did you get the note?

  Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe it got lost in all the parts of the metal-working kit I bought for him.

  Yes. You’re a great friend, Tally.

  In that moment, I wished the earth would’ve split open and swallowed me whole.

  A great friend.

  My mouth turned hot, saliva building up like I was about to vomit. I’d been wrong. He hadn’t felt the same. My only consolation was that I hadn’t found this out in person.

  I tried to hold on to reality—to the fact that I hadn’t lost him—I hadn’t lost my best friend—I’d only lost all the parts of me that wanted more.

  My pulse thudded angrily—desperately—in my ears.

  Did I still have my friend?

  I’d also gotten my acceptance letter to Parsons two weeks ago, but I hadn’t heard anything from Sam about his. At first, I didn’t want to reach out because maybe he hadn’t heard, and I didn’t want to worry him. Plus, I was preoccupied with how to tell him how I felt.

  But now, I had to know. The weed of fear in my stomach grew into a giant oak over the last thirty seconds, and I couldn’t stop myself.

  Did you hear from Parsons? I got my letter the other day. I got in.

  I hit send and it felt like my heart was Humpty Dumpty sitting on the wall, teetering precariously until he responded.

  I got my letter.

  My relieved exhale was extinguished when a second text followed up.

  I didn’t get in, Tally.

  Tears blurred my vision.

  Everything I’d wanted, everything I’d been hoping for since forever was falling down around me, melting like ice under the Arizona sun, spilling like sand through my fingers. I couldn’t hold on to it. I couldn’t hold on to anything. I was losing it all.

  It’s okay. You can apply again. Or maybe a different school in New York. Or I can wait a year.

  I typed out options before I even really thought about them, anything to bring back hope.

  The next few seconds felt like months as I waited for him to get back.

  I can’t apply again, Tally. I’m not going to New York. I’m sorry. I’ll owe you. Anything else you ever need here in Arizona, I’ll do it. No questions asked.

  Tears splattered onto my phone screen, obscuring the message but not the way it burned me and broke my heart.

  This wasn’t Sam. None of this sounded like Sam. He wouldn’t leave me—give up on our dream so easily. It wasn’t who he was.

  We’ll figure it out.

  Collecting my broken heart and broken dreams, I carefully filtered them into a safe box inside my chest and locked it up tight, unwilling to dwell on them until he came back.

  If I could talk to him in person, it would change everything. It always did.

  Sam had never not done anything for me.

  And even now, he’d promised to make it up to me. Well, when he got here, he was going to make it up to me with the truth. Until then, I clung to that defiant hope and the knowledge that I knew the kind of man my best friend was, and he wasn’t the kind to call it quits.

  Six Months Later

  That hope had been my life support. Not a day went by when I didn’t plan and perfect my argument for why he still had to come. Why he had to apply again. And why there was so much more between us than friendship.

  And then, the middle of May rolled around, and my life support was ripped away.

  “Chili? Before Sam gets here?” I asked Mee-Maw. She stood by the stove, seasoning the large pot.

  She turned to me, and from her expression, I thought maybe someone died.

  It wasn’t long before I realized that someone was what remained of my heart.

  “Tally, Sam isn’t coming.”

  I laughed and shook my head. I had to have misheard her. “What? What do you mean? Not coming this week? Like he’s coming later?”

  Setting down her spoon, she walked up to me and pulled me into a tight, inescapable hug.

  “He’s not coming this summer, Tally,” she revealed quietly. “I was just next door with Kristy for an hour. She’s devastated.”<
br />
  “What do you mean not coming?” I repeated in shock.

  How could he not be coming?

  I had so much to tell him. We had so much to figure out.

  He’d never not come back to me.

  “He’s eighteen now—an adult. And he called her this morning to tell her he’s going to stay with his father on the reservation,” she told me, her arms holding me with a strength that seemed impossible for a woman of her age and size.

  The locked box in my chest spilled open, the dried and broken pieces of my heart the perfect kindling for the flame of hurt and betrayal that ignited in my chest.

  “Why?” It wasn’t even a question. It was a plea—a plea he would never hear.

  I pulled out my phone. I would’ve been surprised to see the message waiting from Sam if I wasn’t so numb.

  I’m sorry I’m not coming this summer, Tally. It’s hard to explain, but please don’t be mad.

  My thumbs shook, emotional and ready to reply, when the bright teal wrapping around the left one caught my eye.

  You and me. Against the world.

  I tapped back a response.

  Of course! I hope everything is okay. Have a good summer.

  My lungs seized. I wouldn’t let him know what this did to me. His pity would be worse than his scorn.

  There was a wall between us. I wasn’t sure when or how it got there. But it was crystal clear—so clear I didn’t realize it existed until I ran heart-first into it.

  Tossing my phone on the bed, I yanked the ring off my finger for the first time since he’d given it to me and threw it in the garbage.

  He didn’t have to explain. This was all my fault. I’d written that stupid note and ruined everything. I’d opened my heart and now, he didn’t know how to deal with me—how to see me.

  And after all this time building Sam into the foundation of my life, I had only myself to blame for making everything crumble.

  He wasn’t going to leave me, I swore, burying my face in my pillow, letting it soak up the silent sobs. This time, I was going to leave him.