Chapter 3 #2
“Twelve years.” He watched as River threw an arm around Logan’s shoulders and pointed toward the barn.
“Eight years of his life I missed in prison. Then spent the last four trying to reconnect, but Amber shot me down every time. And then she’s gone, and I show up and tell him he’s moving to Montana to live with a stranger in a house he’s never seen. ”
“Tough break,” Walker agreed. “But not insurmountable.”
Across the yard, River was leading Logan into the barn. Bear caught a glimpse of his son’s profile—still no give there. Even River’s chaotic charm wasn’t enough to break through that wall of teenage resentment.
And then they were gone, swallowed by the shadow of the barn door.
“Give it time,” Walker said. “You didn’t get where you are now overnight. Neither will he.”
Bear finally sank into the rocking chair. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Walker.”
“Nobody does, at first.” Walker rocked forward, boots creaking against the porch boards. “You think I instantly knew how to be a dad to my daughter? Hell, I’m still figuring that out, and Stella’s a grown woman now.”
“Jax seemed to know how to do it with Oliver.”
“Yeah, but that’s Jax. Man was meant to be a father. So when he decided Oliver was his, that was the end of the conversation. Some men are just made for that, but the rest of us learn as we go.”
Bear stared into his coffee, watching the steam rise. “I’m not sure I can learn fast enough.”
“You will.” Walker’s voice held that quiet certainty that had pulled Bear through the worst days of his early sobriety.
“He doesn’t talk to me. Hasn’t said more than ten words at a time since I picked him up in Denver.”
“He’s grieving.”
“I know that.”
“Yeah?” Walker fixed him with a look. The one every man on the ranch knew. The one that said, you’re so full of bullshit, I should be mucking a stall for you. “Looks to me like you’re expecting too much, too soon.”
From the barn came the sound of River’s voice, too far away to make out the words but close enough to hear the animated cadence of his speech. Then, unexpectedly, Logan laughed—a short, surprised sound that cut off almost immediately, like he’d caught himself.
Bear’s head snapped up. “Did you hear that?”
Walker smiled. “Told you. Give it time.”
Bear watched as River handed Logan a carrot, demonstrating how to offer it to Lazy Susan with a flat palm.
Logan mimicked the gesture, and the horse lipped the treat from his hand.
For a split-second, Logan’s face transformed, and the angry teenager disappeared.
For a moment, Bear saw the three-year-old boy he remembered, who looked at the world with such wide-open wonder.
“He’s a good kid,” Bear said, more to himself than to Walker.
“Got good genes.”
Bear snorted. “Not from me.”
Walker set his mug on the small table between their chairs. “You think I’d let you work here if you weren’t a good man? Your mistakes don’t define you, Dane. After four years here, you should damn well know that by now.”
He did. Or at least he thought he had, until he saw all of those mistakes reflected in every hostile glare and mumbled “whatever” his son sent his way.
“He’ll be okay,” Walker said, as if reading his thoughts. “You’ll both be okay. It’ll take time, but you’ll get there.” He stood, stretching his back with a soft grunt. “And you should hear this from me first, so I gave away your bed in the bunkhouse.”
Bear ripped his gaze from his son and stared at Walker. “What?”
“New arrival. One of the men who served under me back in the day. Finally got out, deserved a shot.” Walker shrugged like it was nothing, like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on Bear’s already crumbling day. “Mason Hatcher. Everyone’s calling him Hatch already.”
Bear felt the world tilt under his boots. “You gave away my bed?”
The bunkhouse had been his home for four years. His safe harbor after prison. The one place he’d finally learned to breathe again. The small room with its narrow bed and worn dresser wasn’t much, but it was his—the first thing that had been truly his since before he’d gone inside.
Now it belonged to someone else.
Walker’s expression softened. “You moved out, Bear. You’ve got a house now. A son to raise.”
“Yeah, but—” He stopped. But what?
But he’d thought he’d have time to transition.
But he’d assumed the bunkhouse would always be there, his safety net if he failed as a father.
But he wasn’t ready to cut that last tether to the life he’d built here.
Yes. All of that.
But Walker was right. He had moved out. It was selfish to expect his room to remain empty in case he failed, when there were other men out there that Walker could help. And he couldn’t—wouldn’t fail his son. Not again.
“I understand,” Bear said, though the words felt like gravel in his throat. “It’s fine.”
Walker studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”
Bear nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
He watched Walker head back inside, then turned to check on Logan.
River was leading him back from the barn, both of them laughing at something Bear couldn’t hear.
For a moment, he allowed himself to hope—maybe this place could help bridge the gap between them.
He drained the last of his coffee and set the mug on the porch railing. “King, come.”
The dog trotted over from where he’d been wrestling with Goose, both of them covered in dust and looking pleased with themselves. Bear snapped his fingers, and King fell in beside him as he headed down the steps to meet Logan and River.
“Hey, big guy,” River said, his arm still slung casually around Logan’s shoulders. “Your kid’s a natural with horses. Lazy Susan actually moved for him. I’ve been trying to get her to move for six months.”
Logan ducked his head, but Bear caught the hint of a smile before it disappeared. “That so?”
“Yeah, apparently she’s got a soft spot for teenagers with attitude.” River ruffled Logan’s hair, earning a half-hearted swat. “I told him he should come back tomorrow. We could use some help with the new mare.”
Bear looked at Logan, trying to gauge his reaction. The kid was staring at the ground, but his shoulders weren’t quite as tight as they had been. That was something, at least.
“I’m sure we can figure something out,” Bear said, trying to keep his voice casual. “If Logan wants to come back.”
Logan shrugged, but didn’t say no. Progress.
River checked his watch and winced. “Shit, I gotta go. Ghost is gonna have my ass if I’m late for our shift .” He clapped Logan on the shoulder. “Seriously, kid, come back soon. We’ve got a foal that needs socializing, and I’m pretty sure she hates me more than Lazy Susan does.”
With that, River bounded off toward the main house, calling for Goose as he went. The lanky dog abandoned his wrestling match with King and tore after his owner, all gangly limbs and enthusiastic barks. King tore off after them.
Bear watched them go, then turned to Logan. “You ready to head back?”
Logan’s face shuttered again, the brief openness he’d shown with River disappearing like it had never existed. “Whatever.”
Bear bit back a sigh. One step forward, two steps back. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
They walked in silence back toward his truck.
Bear scanned the yard for King, finally spotting him near the training paddock where he’d wandered off after Goose.
“King!” Bear called, but the dog was too distracted by whatever was happening in the paddock to respond.
Logan followed his gaze and stopped dead.
A half a step ahead, he almost kept walking before he registered his son had stopped. He turned back to find Logan staring at the paddock, one earbud dangling loose from his ear.
What was so damn interesting about that paddock?
He followed Logan’s gaze and snorted.
Xavier Vega stood on Troubadour’s back, performing some kind of dance that violated several principles of physics while he lip-synced to the music blasting from a wireless speaker nearby. Kavik, X’s husky, weaved in and out of the horse’s prancing hoofs.
A phone stood on a tripod, recording it all.
Logan pulled his other earbud out, slowly, and drifted toward the fence, his eyes wide, mouth open. “That’s the guy from TikTok.” The words came out in a rush. “The one who does those horse tricks.”
Bear had no idea what his son was talking about. “The what now?”
“TikTok. It’s an app.” Logan gave him a look that suggested Bear was ancient and obvious.
At the moment, he felt like he was both. He wasn’t a technophobe, but eight years in prison had left him behind on the technology curve. He still had the flip phone he got after his release.
“You know X?”
“Yeah. That’s @CartierCowboy. He’s got like a million followers.”
Cartier Cowboy? It was the nickname that River had given X on his first day at the ranch years ago, but how the hell did Logan know that?
On the horse, X clocked their presence but didn’t break his rhythm. He finished the dance and brought Troubadour to a perfect stop three feet from the fence. He swung down from the saddle in one graceful motion and headed toward them, phone left on the tripod.
Kavik immediately abandoned his circular frenzy to trot alongside his owner, tail wagging.
“Hey,” X said as he reached the fence. He had a distinctive swagger to his walk—confident without being showy—and an easy smile that Bear had seen charm half the women in Solace. “You must be Logan. I’m Xavier, but everyone calls me X. You ride?”
Logan shook his head, still looking stunned. “No. I just watch your videos.”
“Good,” X said with a grin. “We’ll fix that. Troubadour loves beginners.”
Bear expected Logan to shut down, to retreat behind his hoodie and earbuds. Instead, his son’s face lit up with something that looked almost like excitement.
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely.” X glanced at Bear. “That okay with you, big guy?”
Bear nodded, trying to hide his surprise. “Yeah, sure. If Logan wants to.”
Logan didn’t answer, but he didn’t say no either. Instead, he asked X a question about one of his videos, and the two launched into a conversation Bear couldn’t follow. It might as well be in a foreign language.
King finally wandered back, tongue lolling, and pressed against Bear’s leg. Bear scratched behind the dog’s ears absently, watching as X and Logan talked like they’d known each other for years instead of minutes.
He should be happy. This was the most engaged he’d seen Logan since Denver. But the tightness in his chest didn’t ease. Instead, it got worse, because he realized with a sickening clarity that his son could connect with a stranger in five minutes better than he could in two weeks.
X must have sensed his discomfort, because he turned back to Bear. “You staying for dinner? Johanna’s making her famous chicken enchiladas.”
Bear shook his head. “We should get going. School tomorrow.”
The mention of school made Logan’s face darken again. The brief connection with X seemed to evaporate as he shoved his earbuds back in and turned away from the fence.
Fuck. He always said the wrong thing.
“Thanks for the offer, though,” he added, keeping his voice even. “Maybe another time.”
“Anytime.” X clapped him on the shoulder. “And seriously, bring the kid back. We’ll get him on a horse.”