Chapter 34
“You’re in a foul mood,” Brax remarked.
I didn’t disagree with him. What would be the point in refuting what we both knew to be true? I was in a foul mood. The reason being that any hour now, James was going to come tell me what I already knew, that being she had decided to part ways with Lodestar Ranch and return to California with her family. And I was going to be a goddamn gentleman about it and wish her well.
Brax pushed his hat off his forehead, mopped up the sweat there with a towel, and pulled the brim down again. “You want to talk about it?”
I sure as fuck did not.
“Talking isn’t going to get these heifers rounded up any faster,” I said. “We’ve got a job to do.”
Lodestar Ranch kept a small herd of cattle—about twenty head, most years—to train ranch horses with and every August, we rounded them up for their annual vaccines. We didn’t sell them for beef, but we did breed them enough to sustain the herd, so this was also an opportunity to see how the younger calves were faring. It was a two-person job that usually fell to me and Dad, but for reasons he seemed inclined to keep to himself, Brax had shown up this morning ready to ride. I suspected it might have something to do with the fact that Essie was coming by later to take Magpie home.
I nudged Crackerjack into action. The chestnut gelding was coming up on four now and had taken to cow work like a pig to mud. Already I had interest from buyers around Colorado. Together, we worked to separate the calves from the mamas, always a harrowing experience.
The sun was high in the cloudless sky by the time we were done. We took a breather by the fence to give our horses a rest before we headed back to the barn. The cows congregated under a tree, occasionally eyeing us like they suspected we weren’t done with our shenanigans.
“You staying for lunch?” I asked Brax.
He took a long gulp from his water bottle before answering. “Figured I would. Dad’s sandwiches are better than anything I’d find in town.” He nodded at my horse. “Crackerjack looked good out there.”
“He’s coming along real nice.” I gave him an affectionate pat on the neck. It would be rough to turn him over to someone else, but that was the nature of the business. If I kept every horse I liked, we’d never make a single sale.
“Belle is, too. She’s going to put Lodestar Ranch back on the map. You and James got big plans for her next year?”
I scowled at the mention of the woman who, any second now, was going to break my heart. “I have big plans. James won’t be here to see them. Blaine will take over Belle’s training.”
Brax stared at me like I was speaking in tongues. “Come again?”
“You met her parents last night. They want her to go back to California with them.”
“California?” Brax spat the word with disgust. “You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s going to leave us in the lurch like that?”
“Working with her dad is her dream. I’m not going to stand in the way of that. Anyway, she did what we needed her to do. She got Belle to take a rider. Blaine can take it from here.” I said it like I didn’t care, but Crackerjack knew better. He felt the tension roll through me and tossed his head, demanding I ease my grip on the reins. I flexed my fingers and let the leather slide through a bit.
I fooled Brax about as well as I fooled Crackerjack. “What about you, Adam? Is Blaine going to take care of you, too?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Very funny. This might come as a shock to you, but I’m a full-grown man. I don’t need someone to take care of me. I’ll be just fine without her.”
Brax tipped his hat back and leveled me with a hard look that saw straight through my bullshit. “Of course you’ll be fine. You’re not Dad. When your world falls apart, you don’t fall apart with it. You muscle your way through like a damn robot. So, yeah. You’ll be fine without James. But who the hell wants to spend their life being just fine? Don’t you want to be happy?”
“I’m happy enough.” Or I would be, anyway. At some point, this ache in my chest had to ease, right? “I have Ben. I have the ranch.”
“Happy enough.” Brax snorted.
Now I was pissed. “What do you want from me, man? James has wanted this her whole life. You want me to put myself between her and her dream? I can’t do that.”
“So that’s it? You just give up?” Brax shook his head. “Some things never change, I guess.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded. “You’re the one who gave up on Lodestar and Dad, not me.”
“First of all, fuck you. I never gave up on Lodestar, and I sure as hell never gave up on Dad. I’m here, aren’t I? You think because I didn’t dedicate my whole life to the ranch that means I gave up on it? No. Lodestar was Dad’s dream. I don’t owe his dream my life. And you don’t, either. So don’t throw that martyr bullshit at me. You want this life. That’s the difference.”
I glared, but he wasn’t wrong. Hadn’t James said pretty much the same thing? She had barely been here a week at that point, but she still had me figured out. Was that really two months ago? It felt like a lifetime. It felt like yesterday.
“If you need more help here, ask for it. I’ll do what I can,” Brax continued. He paused, then added somewhat reluctantly, “Do you need more help?”
I considered. James had lifted my burdens considerably since she’d arrived two months ago, in more ways than just training. Honestly, I had no idea how we would replace her. “Not so much lately. Six months ago, I would have had a different answer.”
“Then six months ago, you should have come to me and asked for help. We would have figured something out. I’m not a mind-reader.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“You’re not a mind-reader, either. Neither is James.”
Oh, there it was. I should have known he wasn’t done with this shit. “You got something to say?” I challenged.
“I thought I just said it.”
I shook my head. “We’re done here. Let’s head back.”
“Sure.”
Brax nudged Orion into an easy walk. The horses had earned an easy ride home. I squeezed my calves around Crackerjack’s belly, urging him forward next to Orion.
“So, are you going to drive James to California?” Brax asked.
My brow furrowed. “Why would I do that? She drove here. She’ll drive herself back again.”
Brax shrugged. “That’s what you do, isn’t it? Your woman decides to go, and you give her a lift to her next destination without stopping to ask why she’s going or what it would take to make her stay.”
“What the hell does that—” I drew up short with the sudden realization that he wasn’t talking about James anymore. At least, not only James. He was talking about Emily. “Fuck you,” I choked out, fury clogging my throat. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about. From the time we were babies, our parents spoon fed us this soulmate bullshit. It only happens once. When you know, you know. It’s not work when it’s love.” His voice pitched as he mimicked the words Mom and Dad had ingrained in us. “They were wrong. It is work. It’s so much fucking work, Adam. And most of that work comes down to simply using your goddamn words.”
“How would you know?” It was a fair question. Brax had always had girlfriends, but he’d never come close to marriage before, to my knowledge.
“I’m the only attorney in Aspen Springs. Half my caseload is divorce. And I’m here to tell you I would have a lot fewer clients if they had bothered to talk to each other from the start. By the time they see me, they’re too far gone. Relationships take work, no matter what Dad told us.”
“And…what? You think if I use my words, if I ask James to stay here with me, she’s going to give up her dream?” I shook my head. “Life doesn’t work that way.”
“I think you’re scared to find out. I think you’re scared to lay it all out there and hear her say it’s not enough. I hate to tell you this, but that’s what everyone is scared of. No one likes rejection.”
“It doesn’t matter what I say. She’s going back to California.”
“All right, then. Let her go.” Brax smirked over his shoulder like it was all the same to him. “Who cares if James is the best thing to happen to you since Ben? You’ll be fine.”
I was not fine. But I also was not like my dad, broken of both heart and spirit, half-drowned in bourbon. So. I would take that as a win. Even if it felt a whole hell of a lot like I was still losing.
Bourbon would feel pretty damn good right about now.
“Stop right there,” Dad ordered as I strode past the kitchen. “You haven’t eaten lunch.”
“I don’t have time.” I had time. Probably. But I also knew Brax had taken his sandwich to the back deck, and I’d already had more than enough of his brotherly wisdom for one day. I’d eat when he was good and gone.
“You have time for a sandwich. I picked up a loaf of sourdough.” Dad slapped two thick slices on the wood cutting board.
I loved sourdough. I lingered in the doorway, not fully committing one way or the other. “What are you making?”
“Roast beef. From the good deli, not the prepackaged shit from the grocery store.” Dad reached for a small bowl and slathered the contents on both slices. From the pale-yellow color, I knew it was his signature mix of mayonnaise and mustard. He always premixed the condiments, swearing it tasted much better than adding each straight to the bread one at a time.
I sidled up to the counter. “What else?”
“Cheddar, of course. I figured that would go real nice with some arugula. And some radish slices for crunch.”
It sounded odd, but I knew it would be good. Even the radishes—or maybe especially the radishes? Dad loved a good crunch on a sandwich.
My stomach rumbled as I watched him layer on the ingredients. Not being a heathen, he cut the sandwich in half on the diagonal, then slid it onto a plate for me along with a pickle wedge.
“Here you go.” He nudged the plate closer to me. “I call it the Get Your Head Out of Your Ass on Sourdough.”
I should have known Brax would spill everything while I was washing up. Defiantly, I lifted one triangle to my mouth and bit off a large chunk. Delicious. I chewed while glaring at him. Swallowed while glaring some more. “Really? Because it tastes like Mind Your Own Business to me.”
Dad gave me a look only a parent could give, full of exasperated fondness. “You are my business. You’re my son.”
“I’m a grown ass man.”
“Then stop acting like a scared little boy.”
Scared. The word was an echo of what Brax had said earlier. It chafed around the edges of some too tender place in my chest. And lord, didn’t that piss me right off. The only thing that scared me was mountain lions. Or something bad happening to Ben. I wasn’t scared of fucking feelings.
“All right, Dad. Since you and Brax think you have all the answers, how about you share them with me? You think I’m running scared? Fine. Tell me what I’m supposed to do, then. Because James—” My voice did something I wasn’t proud of. Fury pushed me past it. “James deserves everything. Whatever she wants, she should have. She’s loyal and strong and kind, and my god, the mouth on that woman. She always says what”s on her mind, what she thinks. Do you know how rare that is? She deserves everything, you hear me? And I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of that, not even me.”
Dad blew out a sigh and shook his head. “I hear you, Adam. I hear you and I understand. Hell, I even agree with you. James deserves to have everything she wants. I won’t fight you on that. What I don’t understand is why you seem to think that everything doesn’t include you.”
It was a direct hit to my solar plexus. “Because—” I floundered.
Because it couldn’t possibly.
I stilled, feeling it. Where had that come from? Not from James, I knew that.
“The thing is,” Dad said carefully, “James didn’t make the decision to go. You did. It seems to me you make an awful lot of decisions no one asked you to make.”
“I didn’t decide to end my marriage,” I reminded him, because people seemed to be forgetting that lately. “Emily made that decision all on her own. With no input from me whatsoever.”
“So now you figure it’s your turn to make the decisions? That might be fine except, hell, son, you’re making yourself miserable. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe you want to be miserable.”
“Dad,” I said, not bothering to hide my exasperation, “no one wants to be miserable.”
“I did.” His gaze held mine, relentless. “After your mom died. It seemed a whole hell of a lot easier to be miserable than to be happy, so I settled in deep. I let everything go. Everything I loved. Horses, Lodestar, family. You know that and we’re paying the price for that now. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry.”
I swallowed hard. He had never spoken those words out loud. Never apologized. Dad had never hit rock bottom the way a true addict does. He hadn’t bet the ranch to pay for booze or driven drunk or anything like that. Time seemed to be the biggest factor in his slow emergence from grief. That, and Ben. I had laid down the law that he couldn’t be around Ben unless he was sober, and he never once broke it.
“I get it, Dad. Really. I understand.”
His lips twisted wryly as he fiddled with the knife, wiping the blade clean of condiments. “Do you? Because you had your own tragedy to face, but you handled it somewhat different, as I recall. You white-knuckled your way through Emily leaving and dying the same way you did with your mom. You didn’t drink, but you pushed away anything that made you happy, same as me. Huh, how about that?” He straightened and tapped the knife’s blade against the cutting board. “Maybe underneath it all, our ways of handling grief aren’t so different after all.”
“Dad, I’m not—” I closed my eyes as the truth washed through me like a cold wind. “I’m not scared of James dying. And I’m not exactly scared of her leaving, either. I’m scared because I don’t know how to keep her. I don’t know how to make her happy. I’m scared I don’t know how to make anyone happy. Because I tried, Dad. I thought I was doing everything right, but it turned out I was all wrong. And I still don’t know why.”
Dad stared at me long and hard. “Well, shit, son. I knew that. I know you’re scared, but I never took you for a coward. So the question is, what are you going to do about it?”
The box of journals was right where I had left them, in the back of my bedroom closet, after I had dug out the photos of Emily and Ben. Out of sight, but never truly out of mind.
That fucking box had haunted me.
There was no doubt in my mind that I would rather have the devil himself rake my body with a molten pitchfork.
But there was also no doubt in my mind that I would rather read every damning word Emily wrote about me, about us, than lose James. I would do anything to make her happy.
Even this.