Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
WINNIE
What Are Regrets?
“Billy let me ride a bull!” Sally launches into my arms as I glare at Cord around her.
“Really?” I feign excitement and mouth what the ever-loving fuck? to my brother.
He holds up his hands in a what can you do relaxed-as-all-hell gesture like the world is all A-okay. Letting out a harsh sigh, I turn him to ash with another glare while he laughs at me.
It’s West’s laugh. They have the same laugh. Goddammit.
I kicked West out, and he left. I meant for him to leave. He had to go before my offspring, my real family, returned and found out another person was in our house. But the separation wasn’t meant to hurt this much.
I was not meant to actually fall in love with him in the space of forty-eight freaking hours. Maybe those seeds were sown a whole lot of years ago.
How desperate have I been for love after all?
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
“Mommy? Why are you swearing?”
I draw back to find Sally nibbling her thumbnail. “I’m sorry, chicken. I was thinking about something else. So, how big was this bull?” How excited can I be about an animal I want to end up on my dinner plate as a slab of steak?
“Oh, it’s a feeder calf,” Sally says cheerfully. “I’m almost bigger than it!”
Cord loses it against my doorframe.
I flip him the bird behind her back. You’re forgiven, I mouth. Once.
“Uh-huh,” he responds. “Billy did a great job. He’s even climbed on a bull himself. For about half a second.”
I snort. “Yeah, I’d love to see that.”
“You might, if you come to the Valiant Peak Invitational.” An inflection at the end of Cord’s sentence makes the whole thing a question. A hesitation.
I release Sally and send her off toward the laundry. “Make sure you unpack and bring your bag back!” I holler after her.
Cord rubs the back of his neck. “You know, this place isn’t as big as the homestead,” he starts.
“I know that.”
“So you don’t need to yell after her like that.”
“I know that, Cord. It’s a habit, all right?” I lower my voice, seeing as that’s what he wants. “West was right. You can be an asshole.”
It just tumbles out, and I freeze. So does he.
“West was here?” Cord says eventually, striving for a casual tone and failing in magnificent fashion.
I shoot him a look. “I thought you were meant to be all cool and calm under pressure. Infamous for this shit.”
Cord rolls his eyes. “Yeah, once I was good at it. Haven’t been back for a while. I’m more than a bit out of practice. Someone else runs the company now.”
“That someone is kicking your ass.”
“Probably,” he agrees.
I wrinkle my nose. “Stop agreeing with me. I hate it.” The sentiment sounds petulant. It probably is.
“I’d say sorry, but I’m not.”
“Fine.” I high-five Sally as she thunders past me, waving her empty bag as evidence of dumping her dirty clothes in the washer. I cheer her and bring up the elephant in the room. “Lanie’s pregnant.”
“Yeah.”
“Cord. I would have liked to have found out from you.”
Cord frowns at me. “I did tell you.”
Releasing the sort of breath I save for long afternoons when my twelve-hour shift has expired, I give him a gentle smile. “No, you didn’t. West shared that one with me.” And you forgot. Not being included in news of Cordell’s growing family is becoming a trend.
He scratches the back of his neck. “Ah. Shit.” His lips form another word.
I fold my arms and wait.
“Sorry.”
“Took you long enough.”
My brother gives me a sheepish look. “It’s been a ride. I’d say there’s been a lot going on but… yeah. I’m overinvested in Lanie.”
“You think?” I snort. “Give her some credit. She put up with your bad habits already, and you haven’t scared her off yet.”
“Give it time.” Cord’s soft voice catches me off guard.
I dive into damage-control mode. “Has Lanie said anything to you that makes you think she’s going to leave Coyote? She loves you, Cord. More than anything. I know. I’ve seen her—”
He holds up his hands. “Whoa, Winnie. These are my hang-ups.”
The penny drops. “You have foreman-level abandonment issues. After West left,” I guess.
“Pretty much.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. But the breach between my brother and his best friend isn’t nothing. This is the real elephant in the room.
“Spill,” I demand. Cordell will keep his secrets unless I pry them out of him. And I take that job seriously.
Breath hisses between his teeth, the softness in his face dissipating.
“We were good, dammit. I swore we were. I was back up. The ranch was working again. Plans in place for this year’s rodeo.
He even asked me about a project to put through Rand Enterprises.
So we were good. Weren’t we?” Desperation laces his tone.
I wisely keep my mouth shut on that last one.
He and West can duke that one out between them.
“Okay… he asked for a project.” I want to close my eyes because from what West told me, my brother did not approach that request so well.
And between them, it shouldn’t have been a request at all.
More a collaboration. “And how did that go?”
Cord stares at me, wild-eyed. “It’s just… He disappears. One night, gone. No note, not a fucking word. For months I couldn’t even call him.” Cord grips the back of my sofa. His knuckles dig dimples into the worn surface so deep I expect the material to give at any second.
I twist my fingers in my lap. “Nothing, Cordell? Are you sure he said nothing?”
My brother closes his eyes. For a moment I don’t think he’ll answer me. “All my damn life.” Cord’s eyes open, the piercing blue that matches mine lancing through me. “That’s what he said. The night before. He meant—”
“That he’d been there all that time.” I knew what it meant.
West had always been there. Not just for Cordell, but for us.
My family, even when it fell apart. Before my brother became Cordell Rand, a four-letter name on the side of buildings the world around.
Before I married a man all sorts of wrong for myself and my own family unit fell apart.
He was there for all of that. And he was there for me too.
That same stoic man was there for all of us. And yet when his life shattered, quietly, on the inside, the people he held up didn’t hear it.
We let him break. Let him walk away in silence.
No. West’s secrets aren’t mine to tell, but I have plenty of my own truths to share. My tongue dries, and I remember to close my mouth. West’s country-boy scent of honesty and sunsets slams into me. I shouldn’t have told him to go.
I made a mistake and it burns my insides to admit it.
Sally’s room has gone quiet, and I know she’s listening. This won’t be the first Uncle Cord–and–Mom discussion she’s eavesdropped on, though we try to keep them few and far between. I hate that these happen, but Cord needs to know.
When my breaths regulate, I look up and hold his gaze.
“Apart from looking after me when Brad invaded my house and tried to get back with me”—I hold up a hand to shut Cord up before he loses it—“and managing the fallout afterward, West told me he walked out on you. When I went on an anti-Cord tirade because I felt left out, just like he does, West defended you.” I lick my lips when Cord says nothing.
“Do you hear that, Cordell? West defended you and made me believe it. And do you know what I did?” Tears shimmer the vision of my brother. “I—I—”
The vision of West’s face as I closed the door on him fills my mind’s eyes. It felt good at the time. Victorious. But now…
I can’t complete the sentence, but Cord’s there, wrapping his arms around me. “It’s okay, Winnie. Fuck, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you. I’m so sorry. Life just got busy. That’s a shit excuse. But it’s true and I got lost—”
“In your own damn ego out there at Hermit Clubhouse up at the top of Montana. Yeah, I know.” I hiccup.
Cord huffs a laugh. “You think I should get a new sign? That sounds like a better name than the one that I picked out.”
“It’d look good on a sign at the front of the drive. Put a crab in a shell on it,” I add helpfully.
Cord hugs me and I let him. It’s the first time we’ve done that in years. “Call him,” he says softly.
I shove at his chest, breaking the contact. “I never finished my story.”
“You don’t need to.” Cord leans back against the wall and nods to Sally’s room. “She’s here. He’s not. Call him, Winnie. It’s West. He’s not gonna ignore you.”
Fear blooms low in my gut. “Like he ignored you?”
Pain etches across Cord’s lined face. “That’s different. I earned that response. Or his lack of a response.”
No response would destroy me. I have no idea how Cord is still standing.
“What if I have too?” Horror grips me. “What if—”
“He’ll pick up. Because that cowboy has watched you for years, Winnie. He thinks he needs my approval, and hell, maybe he does.” Cord looks at me thoughtfully. “But I also know he’s the last man on this earth who will let you down or hurt you. What more can I ask for my family than that?”
“Nothing,” I whisper. My chest aches with the confession that stays locked behind my lips. I have Cord’s blessing, and I’m not sure West will answer, despite my brother’s arrogance.
Cordell nods, his resolve set. “Which is my cue to go. Look after Sally. Call me when you need to. I’m gonna go look after my girl, and I’m gonna be busy for a few months, okay?
So if you need me, you’re gonna have to call us because my tunnel vision doesn’t have windows and I’m kind of crappy at this part.
” Cord looks at me, that same sort of uncertainty shadowing his usually clear blue gaze that matches mine. “Is that—how did I do?”
I grin through tears that obscure my vision. “Better. So much better.” I punch his arm. “Tell Lanie that I’ll pluck a wolf if she doesn’t call soon. Got it?”
“Violent of you.” Cord kisses the top of my head. “Good night, chicken,” he calls.
“Good night, Uncle Cord.” Sally shoots out from her room to throw herself at him without reservation. Cord hugs her back and puts her down.
The action reminds me of how I launched myself at West earlier in the day. He never objected either, catching me then and kissing me until neither of us could talk. A breath shudders from me and Cord catches my eye.
“Call him, Winnie. You said he defended me? Well, this is me returning the favor. He’s more than you think.” He kisses the top of Sally’s head a second time and lopes away from the townhouse, turning back once. “Lock the damn door for me?”
I know my story of Brad’s return, unannounced, has scared him. Flicking the lock with one hand, I grab my phone and write out a quick text message before he drives away.
Brad’s in some rehab facility. He broke the court order. There are ramifications.
Thank fuck. That asshole doesn’t deserve either of you girls. Lock up anyway. Only let one man in.
I grin through a fresh sheen of tears and bring up West’s number. It rings once.
“Mom?” Sally taps me tentatively on the shoulder.
I end the call and drop my phone. The device sinks out of sight between two threadbare pillows on the sofa. “Yeah, chicken? Did you have a good time at Uncle Cord’s?”
“Of course. The setup for the invitational looks fun. Are we going to go?” She chews her lip, and it reminds me of my own reaction.
I roll one shoulder. “It depends if I’m on shift or not. You know that.”
“Okay.” Sally stands in the middle of the room for a moment longer.
I frown. “Has something happened? Did you get hurt?” A million scenarios flicker through my mind that relate to her few days away from me, each worse than the other. “Did anyone gang up on you? Has anyone touched you?” My voice rises slightly at the end of that last sentence.
“No, Mom.” Sally rolls her eyes and then turns to meet mine in full. “It’s just that… Were you angry with Uncle Cord because I rode the feeder calf?”
I stare but then push strands of blonde hair back from her face. “What? Baby, no.” I pull Sally in for a long hug.
After a minute she responds, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
I cup my hands under her jaw and make sure we’re looking right at each other.
“I promise that you on a bucket calf is a super-cute vision. And that us fighting has nothing to do at all with the calf and a whole lot to do with me worrying about you. But I also know how strong you are, and how much fun you had, right?”
“Okay,” she whispers, and heads back inside her room, shutting the door softly.
I mutter a string of curses under my breath, which includes a lot of fucking Brad, and extract my phone from underneath the pillow tower.
My breath stalls when I spot that my call from earlier was answered.
West hung up shortly afterward, probably thinking I changed my mind, or that I pranked him. Or butt dialed.
Oh my fucking God. This is a disaster.
“Dammit,” I mutter, pressing call.
The phone rings out. I press call again. And again.
I groan and call twice more, getting my reverse-stalker on and running my mind through our last conversation so that my headspace is in the right place for when he does pick up.
But no matter how many times I call, West never picks up the phone.
Eventually my call is sent straight to voicemail.
Let’s join the Overprivileged Rand Club. I have no idea if that’s a good thought or not—I’m going with not—but right now desperation coils within my veins.
I shouldn’t have pushed him away.
I shouldn’t have pushed him away.
I shouldn’t have pushed him away.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I open the messaging app so fast I swear my thumb gets screen burn.
Gig on 2mrw night. You wanna play support crew? I can always use a backup dancer.
I stare at Tom’s message, disappointment curling in my stomach. Forcing a smile I don’t feel, I tap out a lackluster response, making it sparklier with every letter.
Mister Jacobs. Do you think that I deserve only the position of “backup dancer”?
You need stage space? This is what I’m hearing?
Stage space and a pole would be excellent. Thank you very much.
You got it, hot stuff. Wear something inappropriate.
The time and location bleeps through for the other side of Cloakton.
I’ll just be able to make it after my shift.
I toss my phone back at the laundry pile.
Revenge date acquired. I wander about the house, picking up random items and moving them around.
My phone buzzes again, but I don’t look this time. I can’t.
What in the Pop-Tart hell did I just agree to do?