Chapter 8
MATTY
Junebug flicked her ears, impatient with my slow grooming. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you, girl.” I dragged the brush down her flank. “You didn’t fall in love with the wrong person. You didn’t get played and lied to. You didn’t end up the asshole in the story.”
She snorted, like she didn’t want to hear it either.
I walked Junebug back to her stall, tossed in a flake of hay, and ran my hand down her flank one last time.
She didn’t look back at me. Not that I blamed her.
I’d been bitching at her about my Hudson problem for an hour.
“Go on, then. You don’t have to listen to me ramble about someone who’s not even worth my time. ”
I left her alone and walked outside the barn, stretching. In the distance, I spotted my dad and Hudson shoeing a horse, Hudson steady at the reins. My jaw tightened like it always did when I saw him.
The man I couldn’t look at without remembering everything.
I turned toward the house. The house where I grew up. The house that no longer felt like a home. Not with my dad fornicating with Ozzie under its roof.
My dad had always been the one dependable constant in my life.
The one I looked up to. Respected. Trusted to do the right thing, even when it was hard.
And if a man like that—my father—could fall for Ozzie and do something as despicable as sleep with his son’s fiancé, then what did that say about others?
If the man I admired most could disappoint me like that, how could I ever be sure of anyone?
Inside the mudroom, I scrubbed my hands at the sink until they were raw. It wasn’t about the dirt. It was about washing away the memories.
The house was unusually quiet. I poked my head into the living room to check if Ozzie was there with Hudson’s daughter. I usually avoided the house like the plague at this time of the day so I didn’t bump into them.
Ozzie was nowhere to be seen, but she was there. The little girl who would always be a reminder of Hudson’s betrayal. Curled up like a kitten in the sunbeam falling across the hardwood floor, she was fast asleep, one tiny sneaker still on, the other half off her heel.
I should’ve walked out. Turned around. Left her sleeping in peace. But my feet moved on their own, drawn by something I couldn’t name. I crouched beside her, and the moment I saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest, my heart started pounding, fast and sharp like it was trying to escape my ribs.
Up close, I could see the soft sweep of her lashes, long and dark like Hudson’s.
That same little pout he got when he slept, the one I used to kiss just to see him smile in his sleep.
But most of her—her nose, the shape of her cheekbones—belonged to her mother.
She had his hair but her mother’s eyes, a mixture of the two of them.
Something in me ached.
I waited for it, that cold spike of resentment. The blame. She was the reminder of everything I lost. Of how Hudson had moved on, made a family, built a life without me.
But it didn’t come.
Instead, I remembered the way she’d blown me a kiss in the bakery. How she’d lit up like sunshine when I caught it. And now, here she was, sleeping like she belonged in this house.
A tiny cry escaped her, startled and soft.
Her eyes blinked open. Big and glassy and brown. She looked up at me, and I held my breath, afraid of frightening her. Ivy scrambled upright and crawled right into my lap, curling against my chest like she’d done it a hundred times before.
I froze.
Then my arms came around her before I could think better of it.
She nestled in, head tucked under my chin, like I was someone safe. Like I was someone worth loving.
And I broke. Quietly, inside.
This could’ve been mine. She could’ve been ours.
If Hudson had come to me and begged forgiveness, a second chance, anything, would I have said no? Maybe not.
But we would never know because he hadn’t.
He took what we had and torched it, then built something new in the ashes. Something I never got a say in.
And now here I was, holding the evidence in my arms. Warm, breathing, trusting me with all her little heart.
I tried to lay her back down. Gently, carefully, I eased her off my chest, aiming for the bundle of throw pillows and folded blankets someone had made into a makeshift bed on the floor.
But she whimpered. Tiny and distressed.
Her arms clung tighter around my neck, and her whole little body tensed like I was about to disappear. “No,” she whispered sleepily, thumb jammed between her lips.
I swallowed hard.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to walk away. Keep the line drawn clean and sharp.
Instead, I let out a breath and sat back down, cross-legged on the floor with her nestled in my arms like she belonged there. Like I wasn’t the asshole in her story too.
Her hand curled around the collar of my shirt. And I…held her.
God.
The warmth of her. The trust. The softness. It cracked something in me wide open. Made my throat burn and my heart do that pathetic thump-thump that only ever got me hurt.
I rubbed slow circles on her back, whispering nonsense words. Comfort, apology, regret. They all sounded the same when spoken softly enough.
Her lashes fluttered. Her breathing evened out. And I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Because somehow this moment—me, her, the quiet—was doing something to me I hadn’t expected.
Footsteps sounded behind me.
Ozzie stood frozen in the doorway like he’d walked in on a crime scene. His mouth parted, like he didn’t know what to say, which was rare for him. His gaze flicked to Ivy in my lap, then back to me, and something unreadable passed over his face.
“You should watch her more carefully.” I frowned at my brother’s fiancé, my father’s lover, still not sure what to think about him.
What he was doing with my father was disgusting. Not the sex. I understood that. But that he didn’t break up with Carter before having their affair.
Hudson should know better than to entrust his daughter to someone like that.
“I left to use the bathroom and get a drink of water.” He twisted his hands. “She was lying on the floor, so there was no danger of her rolling off anywhere.”
“Still.” I didn’t like the idea of the child being alone like that. I returned my focus to the little girl who looked so delicate. My chest felt tight. “She feels so small. I thought I’d hate her, but I don’t.”
Why don’t I hate her?
“Of course you don’t hate her,” Ozzie said gently in that fake nice tone of his. “You hate her father, but she’s an innocent baby.”
Until our fight a couple of days ago, I would have agreed that I hated her father with every fiber of my being.
“I don’t hate him.” My chest rose and fell, and I raised my head to meet Ozzie’s gaze full on. What did he know about what I was going through? He had my father and my brother while the one man—the first man I’d ever fallen for was out of my reach. “I’m angry, or I was angry, but then holding her…”
I couldn’t explain it, but that baby in my arms felt larger than any hate that had festered in my heart over the years.
The front door banged open, startling Ivy, but she didn’t wake up.
“What in the world!” Ozzie cried.
I rose to my feet with the baby still cradled in my arms. Who the hell had entered the house like that? Whatever it was, it sounded urgent.
“Ozzie!”
The second he shouted—sharp, frantic, echoing off the hallway walls—my entire body went rigid. My blood turned to ice.
Hudson.
Shit.
My heart slammed against my ribs like it was trying to punch its way out. I looked down at the little girl in my arms, hyperaware of how tightly she was wrapped around me, how her cheek was still pressed to my shoulder.
Fuck.
I’d just spent the last ten minutes holding the daughter of the man I’d never forgiven. The man I’d never stopped wanting. Panic flared in my throat, thick and hot. I shifted to hand her off to Ozzie, but he was eyeing the entrance and not paying attention.
Ivy whimpered and clung harder, like she never intended to let go. My breath caught. Too late. Hudson was already storming into the room. His eyes landed on me, on us, and his whole face changed.
“Hudson, is everything all right?” Ozzie asked as if he was oblivious to the major problem right there in the room with us.
“What are you doing with my daughter?” he demanded, nostrils flaring.
“It’s okay. He was only helping her get back to her nap,” Ozzie said quickly.
I opened my mouth to deliver my usual scathing remark, but no sound came out. Nothing had prepared me to survive this scenario. I did the only thing I could think of. I lowered the child back to the makeshift bed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
Because she was his daughter, and only he had a say in who watched his daughter. For some reason, the thought scalded.
I tried to brush past Hudson, but he stepped easily in front of me, blocking me. “No, don’t—”
“Get out of my way, Hud.”
Fuck.
Hud.
My huddlebug.
I hadn’t called him that in years.
And then he made it worse by placing a hand in the center of my chest. Oh God, I missed his touch.
“I would, but it’s your dad,” he said. “He’s had an accident and—”
“Wait, what?” Ozzie rushed closer. “What kind of accident?”
“He got kicked in the head by a horse, but he’s going to be all right. Someone’s taking him into town to see the doctor. He wanted me to let you know he was fine.”
Fuck. I knew Dad. Saying he was fine didn’t necessarily mean he was. Probably the opposite. He didn’t want us to worry.
“You should have told me the moment you walked in!”
If something happened to my dad…
I pushed him out of the way and hurried out into the hall.
“Matty, wait.”
But I ignored him. I had to get to my truck, had to get to the clinic to see how Dad was really doing. I threw the door shut behind me and took the porch steps two at a time, gravel crunching beneath my boots as I charged toward my truck.
My lungs burned, but not from the sprint—from the panic clawing up my throat. Dad. Kicked in the goddamn head. I’d seen horse injuries before. I knew what a hoof could do to bone.
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel anything but the sick weight curling in my gut.
“Matty!” Ozzie’s voice rang out behind me, but I didn’t stop. Not for him. Not now.
Footsteps pounded the gravel. He was running after me, and part of me wanted to turn around and tell him to stay out of this. This was my father. Not his. He was just the homewrecker who would fuck up our family dynamics even more.
Carter barely came to the ranch already. He would never show up now. How could I have a decent relationship with my brother when we never saw each other? I had no delusion that my parents would reconcile, but it should have been us three at least. Carter, Dad, and me. Like it’d always been.
Ozzie caught up at the truck and grabbed my arm. “Matty, slow down.”
I jerked free without looking at him. “I don’t have time for this.” My voice came out colder than I meant, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t afford warmth right now. Not with the way my heart was tearing itself to pieces.
“Please take me with you.”
“That’s not a good idea. Why would I take you?” I didn’t mean for it to sound cruel, but it was automatic. A defense.
“You know damn well why. If anything happens to him—”
“You heard Hudson. He’s fine.”
Please let that be true. Let him be fine. Let Hudson not be lying through his damn teeth to keep me from falling apart.
“I also heard him say Gray was kicked in the head by a horse. Please. I know you don’t like me, but please. I care about him so much. I love him.”
That made me stop.
I turned and looked at him. Really looked. His eyes were wide and shining, and I didn’t know if the glisten there was desperation or love or maybe some cocktail of the two. And dammit, he looked like he meant it.
I didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t want to let him in.
But Dad loved this man. And this man, hell, he looked like he was going to crumble if I left him behind.
Fucking hell.
I didn’t want to have any soft feelings toward him. Carter and I were blood. I had his back. That was the pact we’d made when I was ten. I couldn’t condone this relationship.
I let out a long, ragged breath and scrubbed a hand down my face. Why were people so fucking complicated?
“Fine.” My fingers fumbled the key into the lock. I popped the passenger side open and nodded toward the seat. “Just…stay out of the way. Don’t make a scene. It’ll be odd that you’re there when you’re not family.”
“I promise I won’t make a scene.”
I didn’t answer. Just waited until he got in and pulled the seat belt across with shaking hands like it was the only thing anchoring him. I shut the door, walked around, and slid into the driver’s side. My fingers trembled on the wheel. I didn’t let it show.
I had to be strong. For Dad. For the family. Even for him.
“Thank you,” Ozzie whispered.
I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes on the road and hoped to hell that when we got there, Dad would still be breathing.