Delivery to the Farmhouse (Havenwood Cowboys Romance #4)

Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A fter having my oil and tires checked, I drove like there was no destination. My car wasn’t nearly as comfortable as Colton’s pickup. There was a lot more road noise in my little Honda than there had been in his posh truck.

I stopped at rest stops. I played audiobooks but found I missed most of the story. So I tried a podcast or two only to realize I’d made it to the end without really hearing much of it at all. It was only then that I settled on plain old music.

But everything I listened to reminded me of Colton. Singing with him in the cab of his truck. Hearing his sonorous tenor or the way he struck the steering wheel with his fingers when a particularly catchy part of the song came on.

So I shut the radio off altogether.

Once I made it to Cedar City, Utah, I pulled in at the first hotel I could find, and, fortunately, they had a room for me.

Driving shouldn’t be this tiring. All I did was sit in the seat and grip the wheel. But I supposed the mental strain of trying to concentrate on the road and on my phone’s GPS competing with constant thoughts of Colton—of conversations, touches, cuddles, and kisses—took a toll all on its own .

I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, running my hands through my hair with a sigh. My gaze continuously strayed to the new pink suitcase I’d purchased for this trip.

Colton’s letter had a voice all on its own. I knew exactly where it was. It would take nothing at all to unzip the front pocket on my suitcase and pull it out.

It would make an excellent distraction since the sight of the bed and the downturned ice bucket on the dresser only made me think of him. Of the way he’d pinned me to the bed. Of the way he’d kissed me. Of the way he made me feel.

Safe. Precious. Loved. Special. Desired.

I nestled into the bed, falling asleep far faster than I thought I would.

The next morning, I ate a hasty breakfast and again thought of Colton as I poured batter onto the waffle machine. I thought of him on the road even though he and I had never traveled in this direction. I thought of him as I crossed Lake Powell and the Hoover Dam. I thought of him at the sight of every cactus and the red rock formations.

He’d been right. By the time I made it to the Grand Canyon itself, I was both fulfilled and lonelier than I’d ever been.

He would have loved this. He would have made snarky comments about just how far I’d wanted to go to find a direction for my life; he would have held me near the overlook and given my stomach an entirely different reason to swoop.

But I didn’t regret coming alone.

Okay, Lord. I’m here.

I stood on the overlook, staring into the massive canyon and its colossal slice into the earth. I gripped the compass Colton had given me and admired God’s handiwork.

Curiously, with my heart pounding, I tipped open the lid and let the compass swivel a few moments before settling. Before it pointed north.

North. Toward Idaho. Toward him .

I’d tucked the letter he’d written to me in my back pocket before leaving my hotel that morning. Several people gathered on the overlook. Children exclaimed at how deep it was below.

I stared down, and my stomach dove at the space. Maybe it made me a little twisted, but I got the horrifying sensation of wondering what it would be like to fall from this distance.

The varying colors in the rocks made me wonder just how many eons of water passing over this to create something so vast.

More than anything, standing at the brink of something so grand—this canyon was aptly named—it made me feel small. It gave me a perspective of just how feeble I was in the grand scheme of things. In God’s plan.

Yet, I’d always believed no matter how small I was, how insignificant I felt sometimes, I mattered to Him. I believed it. And in that moment, I felt it.

It was a warm breeze, a heady reassurance that swept from somewhere in the clouds above and into my soul. Among all of His creations, out of all the people in the world—even the strangers who surrounded me now—God cared about me .

He knew me. I was His creation, too. And just as this canyon was so deep and so intricate, with many levels and layers that had formed it into what it was now, I was just the same.

The realization was so powerful that tears sprang to my eyes. I’d spent so long feeling lost; I’d sent so many seemingly unanswered prayers to heaven, looking for answers; and yet it took leaving home and blazing my own trail to realize I hadn’t really been lost at all.

A family finished posing for their pictures, and it was finally my turn to move to the farthest edge of this overlook. I stepped forward, feeling that swoop in my stomach one more time as I peered down from a new angle.

A bunch of wildflowers swayed from their place on the canyon’s rim. I couldn’t imagine how hardy those flowers had to be to survive such a harsh climate, but they fanned in the breeze as if they were waving to me.

Bloom where you’re planted.

If flowers cared, would these want to have been planted on the rim of something so vast and harsh? They probably wouldn’t mind. These rock daisies and small sunflowers were made for places just like this.

And just as I’d felt seen moments before, I felt the assurance settle deep into my bones once more.

Bloom where you’re planted.

I stared up at the clouds, feeling a connection to nature, to heaven, I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt.

I’d been planted right where I belonged. I was in Bridgewater, Idaho, a tiny town of only about three hundred people. My kindergarten class had been in someone’s basement; piano lessons had been a bike ride across town; neighbors were nosy, but helpful, too; everyone looked out for everyone else, the way Steve did when Harold had needed help.

I’d only had to run across the street, knock on his door, and even though it’d been the middle of the night, he’d come running.

Bridgewater was full of friends, full of people I loved. The post office had been a fantastic rearing ground. I’d mingled with everyone in town; I’d watched my parents get the latest news and help others.

I’d made friends easily on the construction crew. Drake, Dan, Jo, and Jesse.

Then there were the Holdens. No wonder I’d felt so at home the night the boys had given their mother a house. She’d acted unsure, so I’d stepped up to help, but really, Debra Holden had helped me that night. She’d taken me under her wing like a mother hen.

And Colton. My throat swelled, the way it had been doing every time he crossed my mind.

Even though I’d rejected him, he hadn’t given up on me. When I’d poured my heart out to him, he’d dropped everything to help me. He’d been so considerate and sweet, and he’d kissed me like a hero from one of my novels.

He lightened my heart.

He was everything I didn’t know I needed. And everything I did know, too.

The feeling I’d been searching for, the one I’d been hoping to find, descended. That warmth filled my heart once more, and I recognized God’s nudge. I heard the gentle thoughts.

That was why I didn’t go with Mom and Dad.

I needed to find my life. I needed to find that whatever map I followed, my heart would always lead me to him.

I needed to run away to find out where I needed to stay.

The letter remained in my pocket.

“Goodbye, Grand Canyon,” I said, gushing with emotion and overwhelm. I couldn’t help the grin on my face as I dashed to the other overlook, as I gave the vast canyon a final glance.

It was all I could do not to text him right that minute and tell him everything I’d discovered.

I was done with this distance. It was time to go home and hope he’d take me back once I got there.