Chapter 2
Bronco
“I’m dumb,” she says and sniffs softly.
“No, you’re not,” I respond without even having to think about it.
Lauren is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.
I’ve watched her in action with the residents day after day.
She knows how to handle every crisis that the retirement home throws her way, and she always does it while calmly reassuring everyone.
There’s not a day I don’t show up here that I’m not a little more in awe and a lot more in love with her.
But those aren’t the right feelings to have toward your best friend’s little sister.
So even though she’s the one person I can never stop thinking about, I do what I’ve always forced myself to do.
I push away the emotions. The only time I allow myself to feel anything at all for Lauren is in my dreams at night. Sometimes, they’re steamy dreams of us wrapped in the sheets together, her panting and breathless beneath me. I wake up aching and horny.
But sometimes, the dreams are sweet ones of us raising a family and growing old together. I wake up aching in a different way, an ache that lingers deep in my bones and never quite leaves.
“Now, tell me what happened,” I say to her. She stares down at her nails, painted a pretty, cherry red that matches her dress.
That’s another thing that bothers me about tonight. She’s all dressed up like she never quite went to bed. No one looks this put together at two in the morning, which means she’s not sleeping.
But it’s more than just the way she looks so nice. It’s the bags underneath her eyes, the exhaustion that seems to weigh down her shoulders, and the fact that I’m damn certain she’s lost at least twenty pounds in the last month.
There’s something more going on. Some big problem she’s been keeping from me, and I don’t like it at all. I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to wait her out and let her come to me on her own timetable but at the rate we’re going, it doesn’t look like she has any plans to bring me her problems.
“Tell me,” I repeat when the silence between us has stretched for well over fifteen minutes. I’ll sit here all night if that’s what it takes to convince her that I’m here, ready and willing to carry all of her burdens.
Finally, she gusts out a small sigh. “I need you to keep this a secret.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’d keep anything a secret for Lauren. I’d carry the world’s hardest, most painful, awful things to the grave without saying a word. “Done.”
“It started months ago,” she says. “I noticed that my aunt was lonely. I don’t know why it had never occurred to me before then.
And I thought here she is, an amazing lady who’s given her life to making the world better for seniors.
Then on top of that, she’s the aunt who took me and Vale in.
I mean, that’s a very special person, don’t you think? ”
I don’t want to stop her from talking, so I simply nod. She takes it as all the permission she needs and she continues on.
“I didn’t want her to be lonely anymore, so I encouraged her. No, that’s not right. Okay, here’s what I did. I made her a profile on a dating website. I thought I was doing a good thing. I put up her picture and a small biography about her. Basically, I just told the world how amazing she is.”
“And she didn’t like it,” I prompt, trying to understand. So far, what she’s told me isn’t something you worry about for months on end and nearly cry over at the drop of a hat.
She shrugs. “She didn’t seem to mind. A few guys even messaged her.
There was no real connection or spark with most of them, but there was one.
He was really sweet. They started dating online.
He lives in Britain.” She pauses there and gives her head a little shake.
“Well, he said he lived in Britain. I have no idea where he actually is.”
“Do you think he wasn’t who he claimed to be?” I ask, a picture already forming in my mind. I’m not online much, but scammers have existed for centuries. The internet is just the latest tool in their arsenal.
“I don’t know who he is. All I know is that for eight months, he and Aunt Elaine talked.
It started simple enough. They just exchanged a few messages on the dating site, and then they were text messaging, and eventually video calls.
I mean, he seemed like a great guy. He was even planning to visit her in a few months. ”
“But he broke her heart,” I clarify.
“He gained access to her computer and her phone once he had her trust. He emptied out all of her financial accounts, the personal ones and the ones for the community center. No one knows it, but we barely have the funds to keep the doors open anymore.”
She swallows, her throat working. It takes her a moment to collect herself before she continues, “If things keep going this way, my aunt will have to declare bankruptcy, and the community center will go into foreclosure. All of the residents will be homeless, and everything she’s worked so hard for her whole life will be gone. ”
She says the words with a little sob, and I want so desperately to comfort her. I want to gather her in my arms and promise her that everything is going to be okay. But I don’t trust myself to do that. I don’t trust myself to ever let her go if I start holding her.
I take her hand in mine and give it a soft squeeze, allowing myself to touch her in this small way. It’ll have to be enough. I should be grateful for the tiny pieces she lets me have.
“Well, what about the insurance company? Surely, she has insurance on the property. As for the financial loss, I mean that’s called a data breach, right? Someone has to be responsible.”
She sniffs. “We’ve already tried. Apparently, the insurance company doesn’t cover that or the pipes or anything.” She swears under her breath. “What good even are insurance companies?”
I don’t know the answer to that question, so I don’t say anything. I just keep holding her soft, warm hand in mine. This is probably the most intimate I’ll ever be with her, the most contact I’ll allow myself.
“I only have a few weeks to come up with the money that we need to save the place,” she finally says after the silence between us has lapsed for a few, long minutes.
“How much do you need?” I’m already calculating what I can sell or cash in to make it possible to fix this. I don’t have a ton of assets, but I’d sell just about everything I own to make this right for her.
Lauren names a figure that nearly knocks me out of my boots. I had no idea it was so expensive to run the retirement home. It’s definitely more cash than I could raise. At least by myself, which gets me thinking.
“What if you tried some sort of fundraiser? I bet the people of Courage County would be more than happy to help,” I tell her. This place is filled with cowboys and mountain men who’d step up. Hell, I’d call in every favor I’ve ever earned if it’d help.
“Maybe.” She takes a shuddering breath. “But it’s going to take more than a bake sale and some blueberry pies to fix this mess.”
“You’re right. It’d take a hell of a lot of work, but it’s still possible. What if you did a series of fundraisers? Different places around Courage County would be happy to help. If everyone pitches in, we can save the retirement community.”
She thinks for a minute. “Where would we even start?”
An idea hits me, and I know instantly it’s the right one. “Start with my place.”
“Valor Ranch?” she asks, surprise evident in her voice.
Valor Ranch is the place I started when I came back from my time overseas. I’d had it going for about a year, and Vale was supposed to be on his way out of the service. He just had one more mission. One last mission then he’d be home with me.
The plan was to build the place out, make it a home for guys who were struggling to adjust to civilian life again. It was Vale’s dream, except that he never got to see it. Never got to set foot on the land he’d helped purchase. He’d like this idea of helping his sister and aunt in this way.
I nod. “Yeah, do a fundraiser. We have chickens, horses and cows. All sorts of other farm animals too. So, why not put it online? Maybe sell it as a petting zoo experience. Just for a few days, people can come and pet the animals or go on horseback rides or have picnics. You could sell cheap tickets. Me and the guys could get together, offer some refreshments or guided tours. We’d do whatever we could to help you out. ”
She nibbles on her bottom lip in a way that I find intoxicating. I want to lean over and run my thumb across that plump bottom lip. Then I want to kiss it until all of her worries are gone. Nope, can’t be focusing on how good her lips would taste right now.
“It’s worth a try. Just think about it for now,” I tell her.
She fights a yawn, looking so exhausted that I’m mad at myself for not stomping over here weeks ago to demand to know what was happening.
I’ve known for a while something was going on, but I kept thinking that she’d tell me if she needed help.
But she’s so independent and strong that it probably never occurred to her to ask for my help.
“Try to get some sleep for a few hours,” I tell her, turning my attention back to the wall and leaky pipe.
The water has stopped thanks to the shut off valve, and we’ve gotten most of the wet drywall out of the way.
Now, I just have to saw through pipes, clamp them and get the water turned back on.
Not a bad way to keep my hands busy when I’m around Lauren.
“But you’re still working,” she protests.
“Take your pillows and your blankets. Bunk on the couch,” I insist. “Problems like the retirement center rarely get solved at three in the morning.”
She finally surrenders to the yawn. She stands on shaky legs, pausing to put her weight on my shoulder as she does. I barely breathe, content just to feel her leaning on me. When she straightens, I feel a chill all over from the loss of her touching me.