Chapter 46
L iving with Isabelle is so natural, like she belonged here all along. She's adventurous and down for anything—she’s explored a good portion of the ranch with me in the UTV, and she’s happy to rise with the sun and keep me company while I do my morning chores.
She checks the horses with me, and by that, I mean she feeds them too many treats and pets their velvet muzzles while I do their actual morning check and get them fed. She stands nearby while I muck stalls, always asking questions to learn more about the ranch and the horses.
Her favorite is Scout. She was drawn to him immediately, breaking and healing my heart at the same time.
I can’t explain how it feels watching the love of my life bond to the horse Sam loved all his life.
Scout changed when Sam left for college and stayed in Wyoming.
But he’d always perk up when Sam came to visit.
He hasn’t been the same since Sam died—it’s like a part of him died too.
So, watching him come back to life under Isabelle’s touch has brought me peace I didn’t know I needed.
I thought the senior citizens would be the first to fall head over hooves for Isabelle.
But it turns out Dakota’s the softest of them all.
He follows her around like a lovesick pup.
I don’t exist anymore. He acts like she’s the one who’s been caring for him all these years.
Damn horse has no loyalty. It’s hard to blame him—she’s got that way about her.
She’s become their favorite person on the ranch, just like she’s mine.
It’s only recently come to my attention that Isabelle has never ridden a horse. Having an equestrian best friend, it made no sense to me. But knowing more about how she was raised and how attuned she is to other people’s impression of her, it makes sense that she never asked to learn how.
I’ve offered countless times, but she'll come around when she's ready. Her new buddy Scout will be the perfect mount for her: gentle, level-headed, and even-tempered. Riding would be therapeutic for the both of them, and I know Sam would love knowing his boy is happy.
It’s a new experience for me to spend so much time in close quarters with another person, specifically a woman. My brothers and I all had our own rooms, separate extracurriculars and chores, so the only time we were all together was breakfast.
Isabelle and I eat breakfast together every morning, one of us brews the coffee and tea, and the other throws something simple together. While she gets ready, I pack our lunches or surprise her and take her out to eat.
We go to work together—which has been tense lately with how stressed she is about the safety of her position. I try to reassure her, but I think she needs something concrete to feel comfortable.
When we get home in the evening, I do my chores while she cooks dinner. With unfettered access to ingredients and appliances, my girl’s blossomed into a brilliant cook. I’m going to have to up my labor around the ranch just to work off the weight I’m gaining from her incredible cooking.
She spends a lot of time on the weekends with her sister—either in town or at Connor’s, much to my chagrin—or here on the ranch, my preference.
Mom has taken a shine to both Tate girls. I think she always secretly wished for a daughter, and Isabelle always wished for a relationship with her parents. It warms my heart to think they might’ve found that in each other.
With as much time as she spends here, I wish Delilah would accept my offer to move into one of the guest houses. But she's a grown woman and can make her own decisions.
The ranch occupies most of my time on the weekends, from farrier visits, vet checks, maintenance and repairs, and turning out the horses.
We have Sunday lunch with my parents and James—Greyson and Harper often join. Quincy has a standing invitation but has declined to come ever since Thanksgiving. I think being around Sam’s family is too hard.
I spend more time with my family than I have since high school, and I can thank Isabelle for that. She fits seamlessly into the Andersen chaos. It’s only a matter of time before she shares our last name. She makes me want to build a family with her to fill our home.
I still can’t believe it’s our home , not just my house where I sleep. Now it’s filled with love, and laughter, and a fuck ton of sex. She may have been inexperienced in the biblical sense, but Isabelle has a frighteningly deep repertoire of sexual knowledge from her smutty books.
We’ve fucked on every surface of the house, against the walls, doors, and equipment in the stables. She’s insatiable. I can barely keep up.
I quietly check that Isabelle is in reading-land—she tunes out the rest of the world when she's in one of her books. I need to make a phone call, and I don’t want her to overhear. Confident that she'll be snuggled inside for hours, I head back to the stables and place the call.
“What?”
“Is that any way to greet your best friend?”
“I don’t have time for your shit, Andersen, I’m fuckin’ busy,” Greyson grumbles.
Not that long ago I was a bigger dickhead than him, now I have rainbows coming out of my ass. He's perpetually irritated with me and James, who’s always been “in your face”—now he has two chipper assholes to deal with.
Used to be three, considering Sam was the happiest out of all of us.
Just the thought rips me open. I miss him every fucking day.
It would be all too easy to slip back into my depression, but the work I’ve been doing with my therapist has given me a strong foundation to fall back onto, and I have Isabelle, who's unwaveringly understanding and patient.
This prick isn't understanding whatsoever and has zero patience.
“Alright, keep your panties on.” He grunts something that sounds a lot like “asshole.”
“Was calling to see if your guy came through with that information.”
“Let’s just say if you didn’t already want to castrate him, you sure as hell would after seeing the rap sheet his daddy’s covered up.”
Goddamn it. Sourness floods my gut that Isabelle’s not the only girl this fucker’s hurt. The confirmation burns and I feel the need to break something.
“Listen, I still think that the best course of action is to have Isabelle come forward, and we can back her up with what my guy dug up and let the court of opinions execute him. I don’t think you want to end up in prison over this fucker, and I sure as hell can’t.
I’ve got Harper and the store to think about. ”
“No, I know. I’d never ask you to get involved in anything like that. Thank you for doing the digging.”
“No problem. This conversation never happened, you hear?” And with that, he disconnects the call.
My thumb itches to click James’s contact and fill him in.
But the three of us agreed that James needs to stay in the dark to have any shot in hell at plausible deniability.
If shit goes south, I can’t have my brother sitting next to me in a cell.
I need him on the outside bailing me out and representing me in court.
I go to Dakota’s stall and talk it all through with him. He’s the best listener. Once my blood pressure has returned to normal and I’ve locked away my need for revenge, I head back inside to see my girl.