The Cowboy’s Claim (Men of Copper Mountain #7)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

I ndie

Aunt Betty’s kitchen smells like cinnamon and vanilla, the familiar scent wrapping around me like a warm hug. But tonight, it offers little comfort. I sit at the table, staring at the mug of tea in front of me, untouched.

Aunt Betty bustles around the kitchen, her movements quick and efficient, though I know she’s itching to say something. Finally, she sets a plate of cookies in front of me and sits across the table, her sharp eyes studying me.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks gently.

I shake my head, tears in my eyes. “I think it’s over.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Over? Last I checked, that man was ready to take on the world for you. What happened?”

I swallow hard, the words catching in my throat. “After Chad made a scene at the café–I mean–it’s just all so complicated. Why would any man want to tangle with that? I have so much baggage with Chad and my family. I never told him that Chad and I were engaged, hell–I almost married that asshole, Aunt Betty... I–I’m sure King thinks I don’t belong here.”

Aunt Betty scoffs, leaning back in her chair. “That man’s got more feelings for you than he knows what to do with.”

“I don’t know…”

“Oh, honey,” she says, her expression softening. “Men like King? They may not say a lot but they feel deep. When they care, they care hard. And losing someone they care about? Not gonna happen, not without a fight anyway.”

Her words make my chest ache. “What if he doesn’t want me back?”

Betty reaches across the table, taking my hand in hers. “That man’s never cared for anyone the way he cares for you–everyone in this town can see it all over his face when he looks at you. Don’t let fear steal your happiness.”

The lump in my throat grows, but I nod, gripping her hand tightly. “Thanks, Aunt Betty.” I sigh, pushing a hand through my hair. “I think I’m gonna turn in early tonight.”

She smiles, patting my hand. “Eat a cookie first. You’re gonna need your strength.”

I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning. My mind is a whirlwind of memories, fears, and hope. By morning, I know what I have to do.

I find King where I knew he’d be—out by the barn, tending to the horses. His back is to me, his strong hands brushing down Copper’s flank, his movements steady and sure. For a moment, I just watch him, my heart aching with how much I care for this man.

The crackle of the fire in the woodstove that sits in the corner does nothing to warm the icy fear that flows in my veins. I sit on the edge of a workbench and watch him, my fingers twisting together in my lap, his back to me, broad shoulders taut with rippling muscle.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Hi.”

His head turns slightly, but he doesn’t face me. “Hey, stranger.”

“Are you…angry with me?”

He exhales sharply, turning to face me at last. His eyes, dark and stormy, pin me in place. “Why didn’t you tell me about the wedding, Indie?”

“I was going to?—”

He sighs. “I wish you would have. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. That hurts.”

His words slice deep, but I refuse to let the tears pooling in my eyes fall. “I was afraid,” I admit, my voice trembling. “Afraid you’d see me differently. That you’d think I didn’t belong here. And maybe I don’t.”

His jaw tightens, and he crosses his arms over his chest, a fortress of muscle and stubbornness. “You’re from a whole other world, Indie. Hollywood royalty, runaway bride—hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got paparazzi hiding in the trees.”

“That’s not fair,” I rise to my feet. “You don’t know what it’s like to grow up with that kind of pressure, with everyone expecting you to be perfect, to marry the perfect man?—”

“So you ran,” he interrupts, his voice low. “You ran here, to my mountain, thinking you could play house and leave all your baggage behind. Well, newsflash, Indie, the past doesn’t just disappear.”

I step closer, desperation fueling me. “You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t tried to escape it every damn day? But you—” My voice cracks, and I force myself to meet his gaze. “You made me feel like I could finally breathe.”

His expression falters. “And what am I supposed to do now? Pretend like none of this matters? Like we can just ignore the fact that you’ll always have one foot in that world?”

I reach out, my hand brushing his arm. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” I whisper. “I chose this world. I chose you.”

“Choose me, Indie? You barely know me,” his words sting.

“I know enough,” I counter, my voice firm despite the tremble in my chest. “I know you care about me. I know you feel this connection just as much as I do.”

He doesn’t respond, and the silence stretches, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he shakes his head, stepping back.

“For what it’s worth,” I say softly, “you’re the only thing that’s felt real to me in a long time.” The tension between us is stifling. I want to go to him–to feel his arms around me in a reassuring hug. To know that we’re okay–that we’ll always be okay. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “King, say something.”

His head turns slightly, but he doesn’t face me. “What do you want me to say?”

I flinch at the edge in his voice. “Anything. Tell me you’re angry. Ask me why. Just... talk to me.”

He exhales sharply, turning to face me at last. His eyes, dark and stormy, pin me in place. “Do you love him?”

“No—never. How could I? He…he was abusive, manipulative–”

“He got physical with you yesterday–I wanted to kill him,” comes his reply. Finally, he turns, crossing the distance between us on long strides. “How could you think I’d ever be mad at you? Confused–hurt, but never mad.” His arms wrap around me and he pulls me into him, crushing me in the hug I’ve been waiting for.

“I was so afraid you’d think I was too much trouble.”

“I’m not giving up on us,” he says. “You know what I think?” he murmurs, pressing his lips to mine, “I think you’re afraid to want more, with me, here.”

“I–I’m just afraid I’ll disappoint you–that I’m not deserving of–”

“Indie–” his hands cup my cheeks, his warm eyes blazing into mine, “I love you, nothing will ever change that.”

“But maybe love isn’t enough…”

“Bullshit. If we both believe it’s enough than that’s all that matters. But we both have to believe it, Indie. We both have to be all in or this doesn’t work.” Vulnerability swims in his eyes.

“Maybe you don’t understand what you’re asking,” I say quietly. “My life... where I come from isn’t simple. I want this life with you, I want to be here on this mountain with you and Aunt Betty and everyone else but I’m afraid my old life will always haunt me.”

“Those people can haunt you all they want but I’ll never let them take you from me.”

“Maybe that’s easier said than done,” I admit.

“Maybe.” He grins, pulling me into a hug. “But they’ve never met a man like me.” His grin slides to one side and makes my heart flutter. “I’m as stubborn as a mule, Indie, and I always get what I want. And what I want is you in my life forever.”

“Promise?” I whisper, fear still clinging at the edges of my hope.

“I promise you’re never getting rid of me, baby.”

Just then my cellphone vibrates with the emergency ringtone I set for all of my clients. I fish it out of my jacket pocket, glancing at the screen. “That’s the Grangers–she must be in labor.”

“Well, let’s go then–we’ve got a baby to deliver.”

“We, huh?” I grin, love flooding my veins when I catch his gaze.

“I’ll drive you up there–the Grangers live off-grid, if we hurry we can make it in forty-five minutes.”

“Okay.” I press up on my toes, kissing him quickly before hitting answer on the phone and pressing it to my ear with a smile.