Heartstrings & Horseshoes (Lucky Spurs Ranch #2)

Chapter 1

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Shhhhh, Connor, oh my god, now is not the time or place. Can we please not do this right now?” Delilah begs.

“If not now, when? Shit’s gone too far, and you need to tell your sister,” I counter.

It’s not like I’m trying to be quiet, so it comes as no surprise when Izzy, the world’s nosiest sister, materializes and wraps her arms around Delilah from behind. She’s laser-focused on me, eyes narrowed in suspicion and mischief, as she asks, “What’s going on, twinie?”

“Nothing!” Delilah answers too quickly.

“Go on Delilah, tell your sister what Ivy did.”

I'm fucking pissed. And I know for a goddamn fact how much she hides from her sister, because she confides in me instead.

Delilah blushes red, and regret jolts through me for embarrassing her.

I hate pushing her like this, but I’m sick and tired of her dealing with this shit on her own.

Delilah’s always been the quiet sister. The observant, careful to act, soft spoken sister.

Whereas Izzy’s always been more gregarious and risk-taking.

The girls are Irish twins, Delilah only eleven months younger than Isabelle, but they couldn’t be more different. Izzy left town to get away from her demons. I don’t blame her for starting over. I do, however, blame her for leaving Delilah to deal with their piece of shit mother all on her own.

Izzy moved home a year ago and I could breathe again, knowing there was someone in that fucking trailer who cared about Delilah. I wish neither girl had ever been subjected to the abuse from their parents, but at least when Izzy’s home, she takes some of the burden off Delilah.

Well, that was short-lived because Izzy fell in love and got engaged to Reid Andersen and moved out of the trailer.

Again.

Izzy’s reasons don’t matter to me. What matters is regardless of how happy Izzy is, living her little fairy tale life, Delilah was left alone.

Again.

I’ve put Delilah in a shit position, but she needs to be the one to tell her sister what the fuck happened.

She turns to her sister, and says in a rush, “Mom must’ve gotten into some gambling trouble again, because last night, some really scary guys came to the trailer and there was yelling, and things were breaking.

I was terrified, and I didn’t want to leave Mom there, but I snuck out my window and called Connor while I ran to the streetlight off Main. ”

Shock and hurt crosses Isabelle’s face. Delilah stopped relying on her for support years ago and I was more than happy to fill that void.

It isn’t Isabelle’s job to protect Delilah anymore.

It’s mine. And sometimes, protecting someone means pushing them to move on from a toxic relationship.

It’s unfair the toxic relationship is with her own mom, her mom’s bad decisions, and the bottle.

“She was fucking frozen when I found her, Iz. She’s not going back to that fucking trailer. I don’t care that she’s your mom. Ivy can take care of herself. You’ve enabled her for too long.”

Delilah rears back like I slapped her. Fuck, I meant both sisters have been enabling their mom, but it sure as hell came out like I’m putting all the blame on Delilah.

I open my mouth to correct my mistake when Reid interjects. “Delilah, I’ve offered before, but now I’m insisting. Come live in the guest house at the ranch. You won’t have to pay rent and you’ll always be welcome to eat with me and Isabelle, or with my folks at the main house.”

“Please, Lilah, I can’t stand you living in that trailer. Come stay at the ranch,” Izzy pleads.

Ever since Izzy moved to the Andersen’s ranch, she’s been trying to convince Delilah to come live with them. Anything to get her out of that godforsaken hellhole. Delilah’s declined the offer every time, but last night, she might’ve been pushed too far and might say yes.

Panic floods my system like ice. I’m a selfish bastard. If I only cared about Delilah’s safety, I would’ve moved her out to the ranch myself months ago. Instead, I’ve tried to keep her out of the trailer, busy with me, her sister, or their best friend, Olivia.

But the sun always sets, and she sleeps in that tin can, avoiding her egg donor. Living in that trailer isn’t an option. But I can’t bear her being even farther away from me, living out of town on the ranch.

There’s no way in hell I’ll stand for another man taking care of Delilah.

I take care of Delilah.

My heart hijacks control of my mouth, telling my brain to stay out of it, and I release one of my deepest desires from my vault of secrets.

“No. With all due respect, Andersen, Delilah will be coming home with me.”

Today is the one-year anniversary of one of the worst days of my life. But today, Delilah agreed to move in with me, making it one of the best days of my life.

A year ago today, I got a call from my big sister, Quincy. But when I answered the call, it wasn’t Quincy on the other end. I was caught off guard by a stoic man’s voice.

“Connor? This is Lucas Langford. I’m friends with your sister.” His voice was tight with emotion, and my blood turned to ice.

“Is she okay? Is Quincy hurt? Why are you calling me from her phone? Where’s Sam?” I couldn’t stop the questions tumbling from my mouth. Dread filled my stomach like a lead weight.

Lucas cleared his throat. “It’s Sam.” Silence suspended me in a moment where whatever he was about to say was going to change everything.

The crack in Lucas’s voice pierced my heart. “Sam’s gone. He died this morning. I’m with Quincy and the Andersens at the hospital in Laramie.”

I couldn’t bring myself to ask what happened. Before he could ask, I threw my jacket on, grabbed my keys and was out the door. “I’m on my way.”

I wanted to break every speed limit on my way to the hospital to be there for my sister. I work for the Department of Transportation, practically driving for a living, and my job’s taught me you can’t help someone if you’re dead on the side of the road.

I used the drive to steel myself and lock all my emotions in a box, preparing to hold my sister together. Our parents, Norah and Elliott, were unreachable, so it was up to me to be there for Quincy.

At only twenty-five, I’ve been the man of my family for a couple of years already. My dad’s rapidly succumbing to Alzheimer’s disease, and I’ve stepped up for my mom and sister in every way possible.

After they got married, Sam took care of Quincy I was able to stop worrying so much about her. For a couple of years, I was able to focus on my mom, my best friend, and every so often, my own needs.

On the drive to Wyoming, I let my duty to care for Quincy seep back into my marrow. I’d do anything my sister needed.

I choked on the pain in the hospital waiting room like a thick, cloying fog. I wove past the Andersens, who were huddled together in various positions surrounding their matriarch. Their suffering was palpable, but my priority was my sister.

Sitting in a cold, hard, waiting room chair sat the shell of my normally vibrant, effervescent big sister. A man, who I assumed to be Lucas, sat beside Quincy, holding her hand in silence.

I knelt before her catatonic form and gently braced my hands on her knees. She didn’t acknowledge my presence, meet my eyes, or give me any hint she was somewhere in there.

Trauma does strange things to people, it’s unpredictable and uncontrollable. It was like the death of her young husband erased everything that made her Quincy. Left in the wreckage was a pale, motionless, shell of a woman.

I connected eyes with Lucas, and he shook his head in disbelief of the situation, and confirming my sister’s disappearance. Without having to speak, he and I were on the same wavelength. I stood and bent to brace Quincy by her back. Together, we coerced her out of the chair and onto her feet.

A year’s passed, and Quincy still hasn’t found her footing. Last May, the two remaining Andersen brothers, Lucas, and I, moved Quincy home to Swiftwater hoping it would help her move on.

Like the cruel bitch it is, time marched on, forcing us into each tomorrow, closing the door on another yesterday. Another day without my sister, lost to her grief. A year’s worth of days that refused to pause for her to heal without everyone else moving on around her.

Today was no different in that regard. But it’s significant in that she supported her own weight as we walked down to the bank of Whitetail River to honor her late husband’s memory with his family.

Our parents were notably absent, as they were last year when Sam’s ashes were spread.

It kills my mom not to be there for Quincy on hard days like today, but my dad requires constant care which she provides at their home.

Quincy understands, but it doesn’t make it any less difficult not having their presence and support as we honor Sam.

Delilah shifts in my arms and leans back into my chest for support. The sweet scent of vanilla and jasmine floods my senses as I bury my face into silken strands of sunlight. I place a kiss on the crown of gold nestled against me and am overcome by profound comfort.

On a day not about me, my best friend showed up to support me, knowing how much pressure I put on myself to support my sister. And in the six-degrees-of-separation phenomenon that is small-town-living, my best friend was also there to support someone else.

Sam was the youngest of the Andersen brothers.

The middle brother, Reid, and the oldest brother, James, are my brothers-in-law by relation to Quincy.

I’ve gotten to know them in bits and pieces over the years, but despite my sister having been married to the youngest of them, we never crossed paths much.

That rapidly changed when Reid fell in love with Isabelle, Delilah’s Irish twin sister.

Delilah’s been my best friend since I was a pain-in-the-ass little kid. I’m lucky she’s still my best friend as a pain-in-the-ass grown man. She served as a bridge of strength today, supporting Isabelle and Reid on one side, and me and Quincy on the other. I don’t know what I’d ever do without her.

The memorial gave me and Delilah a reprieve from the argument we’d been having. I know I’m right. She knows I’m right. We both know what needs to happen but wouldn’t without a push in the right direction.

“Thank you for being there for me today, doll. I couldn’t have been as strong for Quincy if you weren’t holding me together.” Delilah tilts her head up and smiles softly.

“Forever and ever.” Her sweet voice tugs on the heartstring that connects us.

I let her go and we settle onto my couch with her head in my lap. I finger comb her long hair and enjoy the weight of her on my thigh.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbles.

“I know, doll, but it had to happen. And before you say it didn’t have to happen today—can you honestly tell me you want to go back to that trailer after what happened last night?” I push.

“No…but I didn’t want today becoming about me and my insignificant problems when we were there to honor Sam.

Quincy lost her husband, you lost your brother-in-law, the Andersens lost their son and brother.

My mom getting herself into trouble is nothing compared to their grief… and you embarrassed me,” she says.

“I know, and I’m so fucking sorry. You know I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you. It was an asshole move to push the issue after the memorial, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you’d be living here with me—safe,” I say firmly.

“You don’t really want me here, Connor. You have your own life and I’m sure you’re used to the bachelor lifestyle. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Little does she know I want nothing more than for her to live with me.

She’s my world, and I haven’t taken advantage of being a bachelor in…

shit, over a year. It’s difficult to get a hard-on for a woman who isn’t the love of my life.

My hook-ups have always been hollow and resulted in me scrubbing shame off my skin.

I coax Delilah onto her back, her nape resting on my thigh and cup her cheeks, smooshing them together like a chipmunk, making her giggle.

“You are never, have never, and will never be a burden. I want you to be wherever I am, and it makes me happy providing you a safe and comfortable home. I don’t want to hear it again, okay?”

I bend down and suck the tip of her nose into my mouth and release it with a loud pop.

“Connor! Gross! I hate when you do that!” She laughs, wiping my spit from her nose.

I nudge her to get off my lap and pile the throw pillows and lap blankets around her, like a cocoon. She wiggles trying to get out, but I tuck her in tighter. Her laughter shoots me right in the chest.

“You’re going to stay here, take a nap because you’ve got to be exhausted from the shitshow last night, and wait for me, okay? I’m moving you out of that trailer,” I say.

“Conn—” she protests but I cut her off.

“It’s not up for discussion, doll. You’re an intelligent, independent, perfectly capable woman, but you have to let me do this for you.” I kiss her forehead and head out the door without looking back.

She’s never going back to that trailer if I have anything to do with it.

Delilah belongs with me.