Chapter 23
ADAM
On Sunday, I arrive at the ranch just before six o’clock to help Matt and Joe repair some fencing. The sun hasn’t yet peaked over the mountain, and the morning air is cool.
I park beside the work truck, surprised to see nothing has been loaded for the long day driving the fence line and repairing any breeches. Mending fences is an annual job on the ranch. Some days go quickly, and others take us from sunup to sundown. It isn’t like Joe to not be ready when I arrive.
I follow the lights and the commotion in one of the stables. Based on the hushed voices, it sounds like one of the mares is sick.
I round the corner just inside the stable doors and find Matt, Joe, and even Momma huddled around a pregnant mare.
“Everything okay?” I ask, my voice still rough from not being fully awake and ready for this day.
Joe grunts before he pushes himself to stand. “Looks like we’re getting a late start. This mare is in labor.”
“I thought you said you didn’t expect any foals for a few more weeks.”
“Yeah, but Matt says this timing is still fine.” Joe points to Matt on the opposite side of the stable where he’s crouched down, checking the animal’s heart rate.
Matt stands with his hands on his hips and smiles. “Everything looks great. I imagine this little angel will be out in about an hour or less. I’m gonna grab some supplies from the clinic. Momma can stay with the mare if you two wanna go ahead and start loading up the truck.”
We stand in silence for a few moments, no one moving as they all pass glances. It seems odd for them not to immediately get to it considering we’re losing daylight hours with this delay. Then it hits me, and my shoulders sag. They know about Camille and me.
I had hoped to get through this day without talking about her.
I definitely didn’t want to talk about how I told her I love her and that her feelings aren’t mutual.
But that’s not how my family works. Growing up with foster kids and then adopted siblings, my parents instated specific rules about sharing our feelings.
Especially if they were feelings that would affect the atmosphere of the entire household.
We all hated it, particularly Matt. Since he didn’t come to us until he was twelve, he had a lot of emotional issues to work through.
He’s the master at deflection and avoidance.
To this day, Momma never stops trying to get him to open up.
He does occasionally, but he still guards his emotions and heart carefully.
Matt pats my shoulder as he walks by to head next door to his clinic while Joe and I start to gather the tools and fencing supplies.
We work in silence for a few minutes before Joe finally speaks. “I’m sorry about losing my temper on you the night Cami and her daughter joined us for dinner.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
He grunts again. Joe’s roughness always makes it hard for him to find the words he needs to express himself, but I have to give him credit. He may not always say or do the right thing, but at least he tries.
“Yeah, but I was wrong to come at you so strong.” He sighs and leans against the back of the truck. “Do you think we’re cursed?”
“Cursed?” I furrow my brows. “Why would you say something like that?”
“Well, look at us. You’re divorced, never had kids.
Matt’s wife died in childbirth. I’m still alone.
Leann never sees someone past the first date.
Then there’s all the issues Momma had trying to have kids that led to her adopting Matt and me.
It’s like the universe is trying to end the Langdon family line. ”
“Hardly, bro. Matt has Emmie. Just because I didn’t get my family doesn’t mean you and Leann won’t. You’re young. You have plenty of time to find love, settle down and pop out some children for me to spoil. Hell, Matt still has plenty of time to have more kids, too.”
A darkness passes over Joe’s eyes. He’s only ever had one serious girlfriend, and that was nearly a decade ago. He dates plenty, but no one ever sticks with him. Maybe he did find someone and is having girl trouble. “You wanna talk about it?”
He shrugs and shakes his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Then why all this talk about being cursed?” I pin him with a stare, and he refuses to look at me. “You having girl trouble?”
“Nope,” he chuckles. “Sounds like you’re having enough trouble for all of us. Maybe I should be asking you if you wanna talk about it?”
I cross my arms over my chest and frown. “I’m good. Not much to talk about.”
He picks up several posts and tosses them into the back of the truck. “I heard you and your girl were in a fight. Is that not true?”
“I wouldn’t call it a fight. More like we’re not at the same stage in our relationship.”
He snorts. “What did you do? Tell her you loved her?” Joe’s smile grows and my face drops. His arms freeze midway while tossing some tools into the back of the truck. “Well, fuck. That’s it, isn’t it?”
I growl. Most days I absolutely love my family.
We’re a loving, supportive bunch. But we’re also nosy as hell.
I tried to keep my private life from them when Irene decided to leave, but it was a wasted effort.
They pried and pried until they dragged every last horrid detail of her betrayal out of me.
At least with Camille, it doesn’t feel that bad.
I’m still holding out hope we’ll work this out.
“So, is it true?” Joe probes. “Do you love her?”
I nod, unable to say the words out loud.
“And she doesn’t love you back?” he continues.
“I honestly don’t know. It all happened so fast.” I drop my head and stifle a deep, grumbly scream that’s trying to break the tension building inside me.
I hate these questions, and no matter how hard I try to avoid them, I just keep talking.
“I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I totally blindsided her.
The next morning I found her crying. She said she couldn’t do this and asked for more time. ”
“Harsh,” Joe says through a deep sigh. “Then what did you do?”
“I left. There wasn’t much else I could do. When a woman says she needs time, you gotta give it to her, right? It’s not like I can force my love onto her. I’m not gonna stick around for someone who doesn’t love me in return. Been there, done that.”
Joe gives me a sympathetic look before tossing the last of the barbed wire in the truck. I thought he was going to say more, but the sound of Matt’s truck returning distracted him.
“Well, let’s go see about this foal and then get to work.” Joe pats my back, and we head back inside the stable and join Momma while Matt helps the mare bring new life into the ranch.
It’s pitch black out by the time we pull up outside the main barn to unload the truck.
We weren’t so lucky with the amount of repairs required.
I’d go so far as to say this is one of the worst years I’ve ever seen for our fences.
It had been a harsh winter, and it showed in the damage.
It felt like we were stopping every ten feet to repair a broken barbed wire, and I lost count of how many posts we had to replace or reinforce.
We ran out of replacement posts just after we broke for lunch.
We did what we could to reinforce the remaining ones, but we’re gonna have to go back out after Joe picks up more.
If we leave them as is, our horses might break through and run off.
After we finish unloading the tools, I head to my truck and grab the bag I packed with a change of clothing. I assumed this would take us most of the day, so I prepared to shower here before dinner.
A hot shower is going to feel good beating down on my aching muscles. I don’t do much ranching anymore, so my body isn’t used to the work. That, combined with getting older, is making my body scream in protest.
Twenty minutes later, I’m showered, in clean clothes, and walking into the kitchen where Momma is finishing up a late dinner. I step up behind her and plant a kiss on the top of her head. “Am I the first one down?”
“Yep.” Momma smiles at me before turning back to the stove. “Leann’s setting the table, and you know your brothers take forever in the shower. They’re the reason we installed the extra shower in the laundry room.”
“Yeah, I remember.” The memory of my brothers causing havoc over the shower makes me smile. Anyone would expect the sister to take forever getting cleaned up, but my brothers would always take twice as long as her. They spent more time on their hair than any man I’ve ever known. It makes no sense.
“I hear you’re about done with Camille’s chalet.”
I turn away from her at the mention of Camille. “Yeah, just some finishing touches and then her master suite remodel. She can’t make up her mind on the bathroom design.”
“I’m sure you’ve got ideas. You always were good at figuring out what people like.”
“I do.” I can’t tell by her tone if she's genuinely curious about the project or if this is her way of asking about my relationship status with Camille. I imagine it’s the latter. “But I have to put it off for a week or two. I fly out early tomorrow for Chicago.”
“Chicago?” She stops what she’s doing and looks at me. “What on earth for?”
“Remember that resort design concept I was working on a few months ago? The client called me on Friday and is ready to move forward with my design.”
“Wow! That’s amazing, Adam.” Momma gives me the biggest grin I’ve seen in days before she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you for making your dreams a reality. But why do you need to go to Chicago? I thought the proposed resort was just north of us on Kingsland’s land.”
The Kingslands are new ranchers in the area.
I don’t know that much about them and only briefly met one of them since they bought up a bunch of the land north of us about five years ago.
I know they train horses, but that’s the extent of my knowledge.
According to Wyatt, his brother Noah doesn’t care too much for them, but the one man I met seemed nice enough.
“It is. But there are a few environmental issues that could impact the project. He wants me in Chicago for several meetings next week to address them. Sounds like there’s some local opposition. I think that’s why I won. I know he loves my design, but being from the area helps.”
“Do you need a ride to the airport?”
“No, I’m gonna drive myself. My flight is at six in the morning.”
“Okay. You better text me when you land in Chicago. Let me know you made it all right. You know I can’t relax unless I know you’re all safe.”
“I will.” I can’t help but smile. Once a mom, always a mom. It doesn’t matter how old we are, Momma will worry about us just like she did when we were little.
“Why don’t you go see if you can round up your siblings for dinner? I’m about to serve it up.”
She smiles, and I can tell by the look in her eyes that she wants to say more, but she lets it go.
I can only assume it’s about Camille. It’s not often Momma lets conversations like these slide, but I’m glad she does.
Talking to Joe about it this morning was more than enough for me.
I don’t need to rehash it again for anyone else, no matter how much they care about me.
I just need more time.