Chapter 21
Beckett
The officers’ cruiser lights exit the property heading toward town. The lights in the house go dark, leaving the only lights illuminating the ranch before us the night sky and a few lights throughout the property that automatically turn on at dusk.
“You really hated the thought of me touching your feet or was it the fact that I was there in the first place?”
Carson doesn’t look at me; instead, his eyes are staring at the pasture before us. “I don’t want you here.”
“Believe me, I am aware.”
“You don’t get it, do you? We are not brothers anymore, Beckett. You ruined that a long time ago.”
I sigh. “I was a young kid, Carson. I was fucked up. What did you expect from me? I saw my parents dead. I needed to get away.”
“I expected you to be a brother.”
The fucker knows those words cut like a knife as he steps off the porch, “I’ll sleep in the bunk house tonight. I guess we need to figure out how you being here is going to work to make my sister happy. For now, stay away from me and Lacey. She has been through enough.”
I don’t say anything else. What good would that do?
Instead, I head off toward the cottage, knowing good and damn well when I get to look in a mirror, I won’t like what I see.
This face is known world-wide in the rodeo industry, and now its fucked. At least for the next few days and that is only if my nose is not crooked.
A coyote howls in the distance, getting my attention and putting a pep in my step toward the front porch.
Inside the cottage, I head straight to the bathroom, groaning when I see my reflection. The bastard did a number on my face; thankfully, it looks like my nose is saved.
My left eye, though? Yeah, she will be black tomorrow.
A knock on the front door pulls me out of the investigation of the rest of my face.
I am shocked when a certain brunette stands on the other side, a bag of frozen peas in her hand.
“Lacey?” I question when the door opens wide.
“Figured you might need to ice your face.”
I step out of the doorway with a grin, gesturing for her to come in. I guess that cop was right, the meaner they are, the more they care.
“Sit.” She tells me, irritation still in her tone, but I obey quickly, sitting on one of the small kitchen chairs. She presses the peas to my eye without warning, the cold mixing with the soreness making me groan and take in a sharp breath. It hurts like a bitch.
Lacey giggles. “Stop being a baby and take it like a man.”
I smile. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to walk all the way out here at dark to do this. I would have been fine.”
“A simple thank you would have sufficed.” She is such a smart ass.
Just like her father.
“Thank you. I am sorry I didn’t take the high road,” I admit.
She sighs, “Beckett, I don’t know why Carson hates you. I don’t know why you left when you did. All I know is he hasn’t been the same since. But my mother wouldn’t have left this ranch to you, too, if there wasn’t something to it.”
Our eyes lock, the hair on my arms stands at attention, and for a moment, it feels like we are two charged particles ready for an explosion.
But it leaves as soon as it arrives when Lacey pulls away, leaving me to hold the peas on my own.
Her body language turns ten shades of awkward while she backs toward the door.
“I need to get back to the house. I plan to get up and work the filly in the morning. Keep those peas on there for another twenty minutes at least and take a pain reliever before bed. There are some in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”
“Lacey.” I stop her before she spooks out the door.
“Beckett?”
“Thank you.” I give her a soft smile.
She nods before shutting the door behind her and gallops off towards the farmhouse.
I don’t know where she found it, how she slid it near me without me noticing, once the darkness takes over her shadow, I finally turn my attention back to the table.
Beckett King
The envelope from the lawyer’s office smacks me right in the heart. I know that handwriting, it’s been one I have been trying to avoid for a few days now.
I swap the peas for the envelope, holding it tightly in my fingers. I have no idea why Mrs. Taylor did what she did in her will—and the fact that her son hates me should be enough for her to hate me, too; blood is always thicker than water.
Slowly, I tear open the backside that had been sealed, pulling out the handwritten letter she wrote only God knows when.
Beckett King (Aka: Beckett Taylor)
You have always been mine. Since you and Carson were in middle school, I saw a young boy who just desperately wanted to know love.
I am sorry for the cards you had been dealt, son.
It is not fair to grow up in a life where your own parents don’t choose you .
. . much less the ones you were dealt who did what they did to you.
I look at Carson and Lacey (and you) and cannot fathom how a mother cannot love her child. How she cannot protect her own flesh and blood. How can she not put her own selfish desires on hold for the betterment of her children.
Parenting doesn’t come with an instruction manual, but it does come with instincts.
Some just choose to ignore it. The moment you walked into our home for the first time, that long, curly brown hair bouncing all over your face.
My first thought was you needed a haircut, but I also noticed how when you sat down at the dinner table, you had the best manners, you thanked me for cooking, and you ate three platefuls that night.
That was the moment I knew you were ours. Maybe not by blood, but in my heart.
Beckett, you’ve made mistakes in the past but who could blame you with the deck of cards you’d been dealt?
I know I don’t. You were a kid trying to survive, and I am thankful you have.
You survived things as a child that most adults would have not made it through, and I am so damn proud of you for it.
I want this ranch to be a safe space for you. Somewhere you can return to when the world gets loud, and you need a place of solitude. I have instructed Lacey to watch after you and Carson, but I also want to instruct you to look after her.
Losing me is going to wreck her world, Beckett. She is so strong, but I don’t know how she is going to take it when I am not longer the backbone for her bad days. I need you to be her backbone. I need you to make sure she doesn’t go down a dark path and get lost.
Out of the two of them, Lacey can be your ally for now where Carson is concerned. He is much like his father and will come around eventually—you just wait it out until then.
He still loves you. I know he does, or his anger wouldn’t be so filled with fire.
This ranch was always meant to be the three of y’all’s. Whether I ever told you that or not. Holden wanted it to be so. We just never made it around to do the paperwork before he died. I made myself do it soon after in case something happened to me.
He was so proud of you son and his love for you was just like the love he had for his other children. Never forget that.
You are a Taylor, Beckett King. Always have been and always will be.
Take care of my other two for me.
I will be watching from above, hopefully you and Carson don’t give Lacey too much trouble.
I love you, son.
Be good.
Mama Taylor
I can’t remember the last time I cried. Maybe when I found out Holden passed away. Until tonight when my tear falls on the handwritten note signed by the only mother I’ve known.