Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brynn
Thursday morning, I wake up early to check the pastures.
Jack is in no shape to be on a horse, so I’ve gone back to making the ride with Nick.
Tabby has been covering the shop in the mornings for me.
All the animals that were in the fire are fine and have been moved to the other barns on the property.
When I step into the stable, I’m surprised to see Jack already there. I’ve been back to doing all the ranch chores, now that we’re down two ranch hands with Lane gone, too, and Jack sleeping most of the time so he can heal. He shouldn’t be out of bed yet.
I stand in the doorway, watching him as he moves stiffly, his hand brushing along the edge of a stall as if grounding himself. He shouldn’t be out here. He’s barely out of the hospital, and every step he takes looks like it costs him more than he’d admit.
“Jack,” I call, trying to keep my voice steady. “You need to be resting.”
“I am resting,” he snaps.
He doesn’t look at me; he just keeps moving toward the center of the barn. His hand grips one of the posts, his knuckles whitening as he steadies himself. My stomach twists, and before I can stop myself, I’m at his side, reaching out to support him.
“Jack,” I say again, sharper this time. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
His head turns slowly, and when his eyes meet mine, there’s a flicker of something—annoyance, maybe, or exhaustion. “Woman,” he says, his voice low and steady, “I’m fine.”
I cross my arms, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. “Fine? You’re out here looking like you’re about to keel over, and you think you’re fine?”
He straightens, wincing slightly but refusing to let it show. “I don’t need to be taken care of, Brynn.”
“Well, someone has to,” I snap, the words spilling out before I can think better of them. “You’re too damn stubborn to do it yourself.”
He raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And you’re not?”
I open my mouth to argue, but he steps closer, his gaze pinning me in place. “Takes one to know one,” he says, his voice softer now, almost teasing.
My heart stutters, and I hate how easily he gets under my skin. “This isn’t about me,” I manage. “You’re—”
He cuts me off, his hand coming up to cup my face. “I’m fine. If I don’t move around, it’ll take me that much longer to heal.”
“You should be inside the house, not out here where—”
Before I can finish, his lips are on mine, and I’m effectively shut up.
Was that his intention, or did he really want to kiss me? What a silly thought.
My entire body turns to goo as my hands find their way to his chest. I feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.
He’s okay. He’s safe. He’s alive. That’s all that matters. This kiss…is everything I didn’t know I needed.
He’s okay.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, and neither of us says anything for a few seconds. The barn is quiet except for the distant sounds of the ranch—horses nickering and the faint hum of the wind through the trees.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I whisper.
“Me too,” he says softly. “And Barney is eating steak for the rest of his life.”
I step back, needing the distance to clear my head. He lets me go, his hand dropping to his side. I laugh as I cock my head to the side.
“Why do you say that?”
“He tried to save my life. He was trying to pull me out of the barn.”
I gasp and cover my mouth. I’m shocked.
“I…didn’t know that. I mean, Rick mentioned something about him being beside you.”
“He tried to push the beam off me. He’s a smart dog.”
Wow.
“That’s incredible. Liv always says he’s super smart, but…I guess I don’t give him the credit he deserves.”
He smiles and nods back at me before he starts moving again. He’s got his hand up against the wall like he needs the support.
“You should get back inside,” I say, trying to regain some semblance of control. “You need to rest.”
He shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m going, but only because I’ve got paperwork to catch up on, not because you told me to.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course not. Also, I can take care of the paperwork. I…”
He grins, and for a moment, he looks like his old self—strong, confident, unshakable.
“It was part of the job requirements for managing the ranch. Your dad wanted you to be able to focus on your dreams.”
“I—”
“I’m not arguing,” he says over his shoulder.
I harumph, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
Jerk. Stubborn ass.
And then I laugh because he is all those things, but he’s also right; it’s what he was hired to do.
I watch him go, my heart still racing from the kiss. As he steps into the sunlight, his silhouette is framed by the charred remains of the barn.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, jolting me out of my thoughts. I pull it out and see Clay’s name flashing on the screen.
Why in the hell is he calling me so early?
My stomach sinks. I send the call to voicemail, not in the mood to deal with him right now.
I’m never in the mood to deal with that asshole.
The phone buzzes again. And again. By the third call, I’m grinding my teeth, but I still don’t answer. Then, a text comes through.
Pick up your damn phone. It’s an emergency. I know you’re checking the cattle and the fence line right now.
How does he know that, other than I’m a creature of habit?
My stomach drops and a little anxiety takes over. He shouldn’t know my schedule; he was never here at the ranch when I started doing the morning rides. But his brother would know.
Was Lane spying on me and reporting back to his brother?
I close my eyes and push out the thoughts. I’m being paranoid because of lack of sleep and everything that’s been happening. I’m overthinking and making problems where there aren’t any.
My phone rings again, this time, I sigh and swipe to answer. “What is it, Clay?”
I can hear his heavy, angry breathing, and my entire body tenses. The memory of how many times I stood in front of him, bracing myself for the onslaught of his words and punches, makes me slowly start to disassociate from what was happening.
“What the hell, Brynn? Lane’s been fired?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have something to do with this? You bitch! My brother is your responsibility, and you fired him?”
“Lane is not my responsibility.”
“I can’t find him. He’s not answering anyone’s calls. If he went off the wagon and is dead somewhere, this is on you!” He’s screaming now.
I can almost picture his red face, flared nostrils, spit coming out of his mouth. I can almost see him pulling his hand back.
I blow out a breath and blink, remembering that we’re on the phone and I don’t have to deal with this anymore.
“Clay, if this isn’t about our daughter—”
“No!” he roars, cutting me off. “This isn’t about her! This is about you screwing with my life!”
“Then I’m hanging up,” I say calmly, my voice a sharp contrast to his fury.
“Don’t you dare hang up on me, you—”
I press the red button and slip the phone back into my pocket, my hands trembling slightly. The barn feels quieter now, the tension from the call lingering in the air. I take a deep breath, trying to shake it off. Clay can yell all he wants; I’ve got more important things to focus on.
Anxiety claws at my chest, tears pricking at my eyes as I remember that fear isn’t something that I can just shake off. No, the memory of Clay’s abuse is still deep in my body.
I squat down, my fingers feeling the cold wood of the stable floor. I close my eyes and focus on inhaling and exhaling. I listen to the sounds around me, paying attention to how the cold feels on my fingers.
Lane is probably just taking space because he probably doesn’t want to listen to his brother yelling at him, either. I’m sure he’s fine.
“Lane isn’t your problem,” I hear Nick say behind me.
I stand quickly, turning around to see him watching me carefully. “How did you—?”
“It’s hard not to hear that maniac screaming through the phone.
I’ll have Sheriff Clark run a check on Lane, but he’s not your responsibility.
I know that it was easier to hire him to shut Clay up.
I also know that you thought him working here would keep him away from the drugs that he got involved in out of high school.
You can’t save people who don’t want to be saved. ”
“Can you tell Clay that? He seems to think it’s my responsibility.”
“Clay is a piece of shit. Whatever happens to Lane is not your fault; it’s his choices and actions that put him wherever he ends up. I know it’s easier said than done, but you don’t owe him anything.”
“He’s Olivia’s father.”
“I think of you like a daughter, Brynn, so I’m going to say it like I see it because I know you can take it.
Clay is a sperm donor; he’s never been a father to that little girl, and she knows it.
You’ve got a big heart, and I know that you’re hopeful he’s going to change and show up for that sweet girl, but he won’t.
If he ever does, it’s only to get back at you.
Stop playing nice with him and allowing him to get in your head. ”
I suck in another breath and fight back the tears. He’s right, I know he is, but it doesn’t make any of it easier to digest.
I don’t have time to mull over it, though. I’ve got a full day ahead of me and can sort it all out later.
“Let’s saddle up and check the fence line,” I say.
I need to think about something else for now.