Chapter 25
Jesse
Icouldn’t help sneaking out of the barn around lunch to stretch out in the sun for a bit.
It was the first warm day we’d had all year.
Spring came late to the Montana mountains and despite the heat between me and Cole, I’d longed for the sun.
The warmth felt glorious on my face. After months of bitter cold and snow, the heat was like a forgotten friend returning.
I closed my eyes, tilting my head back to soak it in, feeling the first hint of summer on my skin.
“Slacking off again?”
I didn’t need to open my eyes to know Cole was standing there. I could feel his presence, that particular mix of warmth and strength that always made my stomach flip.
“Taking a strategic mental health break,” I corrected, finally looking at him.
He stood a few feet away, thumbs hooked in his belt loops, that black cowboy hat shading his eyes. The spring sunlight caught the angles of his face, highlighting the stubble along his jaw. Even after all these months, the sight of him still took my breath away.
“Evelyn’s bringing lunch in twenty,” he said, his voice gruff but I could hear the affection underneath.
“Come sit with me and take a break,” I patted the patch of grass beside me. “Five minutes won’t kill you.”
Cole glanced around, checking if any of the ranch hands were nearby. Finding no one, he sighed and lowered himself next to me, his movements stiff from a morning of hard work.
“Spring suits you,” he said quietly, eyes traveling over my face. “You look... happy.”
“I am happy.” I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his. Out here, with no one around, he allowed the contact. “Aren’t you?”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Getting there. Spring means a lot of work though.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, shoulders touching, the sun warming us both. In the distance, the mountains still wore their snow caps, but down here in the valley, green was finally returning to Hell Creek.
“Mr. Whitaker called,” Cole said eventually. “Says he’s happy to see our sales have gone up so much.”
“I told you the new marketing campaign would work,” I grinned, nudging his shoulder with mine. “People love a good cowboy story.”
“They love the idea of buying beef from real Montana ranchers,” Cole corrected, but his eyes were smiling. “Even if one of them is a city slicker who can barely ride a horse.”
“Hey! I’ve gotten better,” I protested, laughing. “Besides, my talents lie elsewhere.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.
Cole rolled his eyes, but I caught the flush creeping up his neck. “Is that all you think about?”
“Around you? Pretty much.” I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “Can’t help it when you’re so damn handsome.”
He shook his head, but I saw the way his breath caught, the way his eyes darkened just slightly. After months together, I knew exactly how to get under his skin. It was almost too easy now.
“You’re incorrigible,” Cole muttered, but there was no heat in it. “We’re supposed to be working,” Cole reminded me, but he didn’t move away. His thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand, sending little sparks of electricity up my arm.
“All work and no play makes Jesse a dull boy,” I quipped, letting my gaze linger on his lips.
He glanced around again, a nervous habit that he still couldn’t quite shake.
Even after months together, he remained cautious about public displays of affection.
Hell Creek wasn’t exactly known for its progressive views, and Cole had spent his entire life here, building a reputation he was afraid to lose.
And I wasn’t going to push him either. I knew just how bigoted some people could be, never mind the fact that we were technically stepbrothers.
“Tonight,” he promised, his voice dropping to that deep register that never failed to make my skin tingle. “After Evelyn leaves.”
I was about to respond when the sound of tires on gravel caught our attention.
Cole immediately released my hand, putting a respectable distance between us.
I tried not to let it sting. This was our compromise.
Closeness in private, careful distance in public.
I understood his fears, even if I didn’t fully share them.
We both turned toward the driveway, expecting to see Evelyn’s familiar truck. Instead, a dusty black pickup I didn’t recognize rolled to a stop near the main house. The driver’s door swung open, and a heavyset man with a weathered face and a faded baseball cap climbed out.
“Shit,” Cole muttered under his breath. “It’s Mack Hollister. What’s he doing here?”
My stomach clenched. Mack had been one of the most vocal critics at the Whitakers’ New Year’s party. My father’s old friend who’d made it clear he thought I had no business being back at Nelson Ranch.
“What’s he doing here?” I whispered, suddenly wishing we were safely inside.
“Probably looking for a beef order,” Cole said, rising to his feet and dusting off his jeans. “He mentioned something about his daughter’s wedding coming up.”
I stood too, putting another step between us for good measure. “I’ll head back to the barn, let you handle it.”
“No,” Cole said firmly. “We’re business partners. We can handle customers together.”
The determination in his voice surprised me. It was a small thing, but it meant something. Cole had gotten in the habit of acknowledging our business partnership publicly, even to someone like Mack.
We walked toward the house together, and I noticed Mack had spotted us. He stood by his truck, arms crossed over his barrel chest, watching our approach with narrowed eyes.
“Afternoon, Mack,” Cole called, his voice shifting into what I privately called his “rancher mode”—slightly deeper, more authoritative. “What brings you out to Hell Creek today?”
Mack’s gaze flicked between us, lingering on me with obvious distaste. “Cole,” he nodded, deliberately ignoring me. “Came by to talk about that beef order for my girl’s wedding reception. Figured I should deal with you direct instead of going through that fancy website.”
I bit back a retort, keeping my face carefully neutral.
After months of proving myself, some folks in Hell Creek still refused to acknowledge my contribution to the ranch’s success.
Cole noticed my tension. His hand briefly brushed against my lower back, a small gesture of solidarity before he stepped forward.
“The website’s Jesse’s department,” Cole said evenly. “And it’s been mighty successful. But we’re happy to handle your order in person if you prefer.”
Mack’s eyes narrowed at the way Cole included me with that ‘we.’ “Just like your daddy to handle business face to face. None of this internet nonsense.”
“Times change, Mack,” I said, keeping my tone light despite the knot forming in my stomach. “The website’s brought in customers from thirty-seven states now.”
Mack ignored me completely, turning to Cole. “Heard you boys have been getting cozy since Jesse came back. Spending all your time together instead of with real folks in town.”
Something in his tone made my skin prickle. I glanced at Cole, saw the slight stiffening of his shoulders.
“We’re business partners,” Cole replied, his voice carefully neutral. “Running a ranch takes work. You know that.”
Mack snorted, spitting a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground near my boot. “That what you call it? ‘Business’?”
Cole took a half-step forward, his stance shifting subtly. “What exactly are you implying, Mack?”
The older man’s face twisted into something ugly. “I ain’t implying nothin’. I’m saying I saw you two at New Year’s. Out on the Whitakers’ deck.”
My blood ran cold. Evelyn wasn’t the only one who’d seen us that night. The realization hit me like a physical blow.
“I don’t know what you think you saw—” Cole began, but Mack cut him off.
“I know what I saw,” he snarled. “Two men kissing like a couple of queers. Jack Nelson’s son and his stepbrother, no less. It’s disgusting.”
Cole went completely still beside me, the color draining from his face. I could practically feel the panic radiating off him in waves.
“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, stepping forward, trying to draw Mack’s attention away from Cole. “Maybe you had too much to drink that night. Everyone in this town knows how you like to favor a bottle.”
“I know what I saw,” Mack repeated, his eyes hard as flint.
“And I ain’t the only one who needs to know about it.
Mr. Whitaker ought to hear what’s really going on at this ranch.
The whole town should know what kind of perverted business they’re supporting.
Bet your daddy’s rollin’ in his fuckin’ grave because of you two faggots. ”
“Get off my property,” Cole said, his voice deadly quiet. “Now.”
Mack smirked, clearly pleased at the reaction he’d provoked. “Truth hurts, don’t it? What would your daddy say if he could see you now? His son, rolling around with his stepbrother like some kind of animal?”
The words hit like physical blows. I watched Cole’s face transform, all the color draining away as his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
“I said get off my property,” Cole repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mack took a step forward, getting right in Cole’s face. “Or what? You gonna make me, boy? Maybe I should call the sheriff instead. Let him know what kind of perverted—”
I didn’t think. I just moved. My fist connected with Mack’s jaw before I even realized I’d swung. Pain exploded across my knuckles as the older man staggered backward, more from surprise than the force of my blow.
“You little shit!” Mack bellowed, recovering quickly. He lunged at me, but Cole stepped between us, shoving Mack back hard enough to send him stumbling into his truck.
“I won’t tell you again,” Cole growled. “Get off my land before I send you out in a fuckin’ coffin.”
Blood trickled from the corner of Mack’s mouth as he straightened up, his face contorted with rage and disgust. “This ain’t over,” he spat, yanking open his truck door. “The whole town’s gonna hear about this. About both of you.”
He climbed into his truck, engine roaring to life. Gravel sprayed as he reversed, then tore down our driveway, dust billowing behind him.
For several long moments, we stood frozen, watching until his truck disappeared from view. My hand throbbed, knuckles already swelling. The silence between us stretched, heavy with all the things we weren’t saying.
“Cole—” I started, reaching for him.
He flinched away from my touch, his face a mask I couldn’t read. “Don’t.”
That single word, spoken so quietly, cut deeper than any of Mack’s slurs. I let my hand fall back to my side, the ache in my chest worse than the pain in my knuckles.
“He can’t prove anything,” I said, desperate to fix this, to erase the hollow look in Cole’s eyes. “It’s his word against ours.”
Cole didn’t respond. He just stood there, staring down the empty driveway, his shoulders rigid with tension.
“Cole, please. Say something.”
He finally turned to look at me, and the devastation in his eyes made my stomach drop. “You should have let me handle it,” he said, his voice flat. “You just made it worse.”
“He was attacking you—attacking us!” I protested. “What was I supposed to do, stand there and take it?”
“Yes!” Cole snapped, the first crack in his composure. “That’s exactly what you should have done. Now he’s got a bloody lip to show everyone in town while he tells them we’re sleeping together! It’s proof, Jesse!”
“I don’t care!” I shouted back. “I’m not going to stand there while he calls us those names. While he threatens you—threatens us!”
Cole’s face darkened, his jaw clenching even tighter. “This is exactly what I was afraid of,” he muttered. “This is exactly why I said we needed to be careful.”
“So what now? We just let him spread rumors about us?” I stepped closer, trying to catch his eye. “We can deny it. We can—”
“Deny what?” Cole snapped, finally looking at me.
“That we’re fucking? That I’m in love with my stepbrother?
That we’ve been lying to everyone for months?
” His voice cracked on the last word, raw emotion bleeding through his carefully constructed walls.
“What if the will has a clause about this we didn’t read?
What if Whitaker decides we’re unfit to inherit because of this? !”
The sound of another vehicle approaching made us both freeze. Evelyn’s truck came into view, kicking up dust as she pulled in with our lunch. Cole took another step away from me, running his hands through his hair.
“Just... stay away from me right now,” he said quietly. “I need to think.”
Before I could respond, he turned and strode toward the barn, leaving me standing alone in the yard, my hand throbbing and my heart shattering into pieces. Evelyn pulled up beside me, her smile fading as she took in my expression.
“Jesse? What happened to your hand, honey?”
I glanced down at my swollen knuckles, already turning an angry purple. “Nothing,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just caught it on a fence post.”
Her eyes narrowed, clearly not believing me. “And where’s Cole rushing off to? I brought lunch for you boys.”
“He’s... busy,” I managed. “And I… I’m not hungry.”
She studied my face, seeing far more than I wanted her to. “What happened, Jesse?”
I couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t form the words to explain how our carefully constructed world was crumbling around us. “Nothin’,” I said, my voice hollow. “Nothing important.”
“That doesn’t look like nothin’,” she said, nodding toward my hand. “And Cole looked like he’d seen a ghost.”
I swallowed hard, but when I looked up at Evelyn, I felt something inside me break. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes.
“I think…” I began, the words catching in my throat. “I think we might’ve just lost the ranch…”
“What? How could that be?”
“Mack Hollister just stopped by,” I replied, a lump forming in my throat. “He saw us… and said some terrible things. Then I… I punched him.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes. Evelyn had always been far more perceptive than she led on. And she knew about us, she had for ages. “Oh, honey,” she said softly. “What did he say?”
“Nothing that wasn’t true,” I replied bitterly. “That’s the problem.”
She reached out, her weathered hand gentle on my arm. “Come on. Let’s get some ice for that hand. We’ll fix what we can for now and figure out the rest later.”
I wanted to believe her, to accept that we could figure this out or get out of it in some way. But I just had a feeling deep in my gut that we were fucked. Utterly and royally fucked.