Toby:Please listen to me.
Toby:I want to work this out. I know we can, if you’ll just listen to me.
Toby:I don’t want this to end.
She read them all, feeling tears brim on her eyelids. They vaulted down her cheeks as she reread his anguish—because it was anguish she felt, too, missing him. She’d punished him falsely. She’d overreacted. The texts finally stopped with one final line.
Toby:If you change your mind, I’ll be here. I messed up a lot before I met you. Guess it’s biting me in the ass now, and it’s the shittiest feeling because I learned these past three weeks that I don’t want to be alone. I want you and Sage. I realized I love you.
Overcome with the need to hear his voice, she tapped his number in her contacts, lifting the phone to her ear. Nothing happened.
Then an automated voice spoke: “The number you have called is no longer in service.”
What? She tapped it again. The same automated recording. Disbelief hit her. His number was no longer in use? Then just as Howie had suggested, Toby must have discovered the app on his phone and changed numbers for good measure.
Why hadn’t he told her he was getting a new number?
Why would he have tried? You’ve blown him off each time he’s called, each time he’s texted.God, how would she reach him? The Legacy’s business number. She searched through her contacts for Dixon Cattle Company, tapping it. It went to Shirley’s voice mail.
She dropped the phone, ending the call, letting it hang limply at her side as the phone gave the telltale buzz of emails loading, and out of habit, she opened the mail app, standing beneath the live oaks—a paltry relief from the humid Austin heat—as students walked by or rode their bikes along the path.
Wearily, she opened her email.
Toby Dixon’s address sat at the top of her new messages, having just come through.
Her heart stopped. She’d forgotten all about email as a way to contact him. She’d emailed him before the field school had commenced and, having never gotten a reply, had failed to think about it. Dare she open it? What would it say? Still, her treacherous finger tapped the new email, bracing herself for whatever the message might contain:
Dear Rose,
Dear. It was so formal. Had he given up hope that she’d come around? She’d certainly worked hard to send him that message, when all she wanted to do now was fling herself into his arms.
Dear Rose,
Before things fell apart, I talked to my oldest brother about your mother. I hope you don’t mind. He’s not an immigration lawyer, so it took him some time to find the resources below. A friend of his from law school works for an immigration nonprofit and has agreed to look into your mom’s situation and work with her pro bono to seek residency in the US. You’ll find a lot of links below to information about the process and about the nonprofit as well as the lawyer’s contact information. Tyler got back to me last night, and even though things haven’t worked out between us, I still wanted you to know in case it can somehow help you reunite with your mom and let Sage’s grandma enjoy his upbringing after missing yours.
I’m sorry about the text. I know you won’t listen to me, so I won’t try to explain anymore. I’ve changed my phone number and gotten a new one. The security on my old one was compromised. The number is below. I want to see you so bad it hurts. Take care of yourself and your boy. He’s a cool kid. I was looking forward to being a part of his life. The job offer still stands.
The links followed, as promised, and the email was signed by a programmed signature which included Toby’s new number, his formal designations, the Legacy’s logo, and the Dixon Cattle Co. logo.
Toby Brian Dixon, PhD, MS, BS, Agricultural Engineer, Conservationist
So formal, so plain and prestigious. If she’d gotten an email reply like this before meeting him, her opinion of him would have started out drastically different. She might never have ridden in his Bronco. Might never have flirted shamelessly. Might never have met him.
Her heart—so sore and sick—clenched, and she sank down to her knees and covered her face in her hands as more tears pooled in her eyes. So stupid that she’d turned into a sobbing wreck with such a fragile heart. But he’d reached out to her. He’d done more than anyone else had cared to do to help her. Perhaps he’d done it for her because he cared about her. Perhaps his remorse about his own mother had fueled his desire to help hers. Whatever the reason, she didn’t want her relationship with Toby to end, either. That was why it had hurt so badly. Her secret summer love affair had been so special, and now that she’d walked away from it, she knew she’d made a huge mistake.
She chuckled wryly, jammed her phone into her backpack, and slung it over her shoulder as she pulled up the handle on the crate so she could wheel it back to her car. She’d jet to her apartment and shower, change, then hit the road to pick up Sage, then call Toby when she’d had some time to order her thoughts—or better yet, drive back to the Legacy and give him the apology he deserved.