Clarke
By three in the afternoon, Colton and I were loading the show ponies into the trailer.
Ethan had already taken off with Avalon and Brie, claiming he wanted to “save them the best seats in the house,” though I had a strong suspicion he just wanted another excuse to flirt with the elder Kennedy woman.
Unlike Avalon, I didn’t disapprove. Ethan wasn’t exactly giving women his own age any attention, and twenty-seven to thirty-something wasn’t a huge gap. If anything, Brie seemed like the first person in a long time who could keep up with him.
“You didn’t hear me, did you?” Colton’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up from the tack in my hands.
“Sorry. No.”
He smiled under his mustache, a little too pleased with himself. “I think I’m going to propose to Delia tonight.”
I froze. Blinked. “Oh.”
“Oh?” he scoffed, turning away to grab another piece of equipment. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“It’s just… sudden,” I said carefully. “I didn’t know you were thinking about it.”
He shrugged, the movement casual but his eyes distant. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I’m ready to settle down, buy some dirt, finally live.” He waved vaguely toward the horizon. “Maybe it’s time to put the show business behind me.”
I nodded, understanding the longing in his voice—but the reality was more complicated. “What about your contract?” I asked gently. “How long is it?”
Silence filled the old truck cab as we drove. I watched his jaw tense and release, working through whatever he didn’t want to say.
“Four years,” he finally muttered, eyes fixed on the road.
“Colton—”
“But I can probably sweet-talk them into an eighteen-month deal,” he cut in quickly. “Only big shows, major events. My name alone draws crowds. I could ride when I want.”
I sighed, staring down at my cuticles—a habit I’d had since childhood, one that only got worse with age.
“And what excuse are you going to give your wife,” I asked quietly, “when she realizes you’re purposely not getting her pregnant?”
He stiffened.
Delia had always wanted to be a mother. It was the one dream she’d never wavered on. She was wild, sure, and had a mouth that could make a sailor blush, but she had the softest heart of anyone I knew. Kids adored her. She adored them right back.
Was she supposed to put that dream on hold so Colton could chase his?
My brother ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, thinking. “I’ll come up with something.”
I turned away, shaking my head. The whole arrangement felt wrong. Why couldn’t he just tell her the truth? Why trick her into something she might not want?
Was it because he knew she’d say no?
The idea of a marriage without love felt foreign to me—almost impossible. Our parents had loved each other fiercely, openly. I couldn’t imagine marrying someone for convenience. That wasn’t marriage; it was a contract.
But Colton had always been wired differently from Melody and me.
Halston Acres came into view—wide open fields, the familiar arena, the bustle of rodeo day.
“I know I can’t talk either of you out of this,” I said finally. “So I’ll support you the best I can.” I chose my words carefully, trying not to sound too disapproving. They were adults. I couldn’t stop them without losing one of them.
“Make sure it’s nice when you propose. Because if I don’t kill you, Delia definitely will.” I added a laugh to soften it.
Colton’s lopsided grin returned. Good—the tension was easing. I hated arguing with family. Even as a kid, keeping the peace always felt like my job.
“Are you getting her flowers?” I asked as we parked and started unloading the horses. “She really loves—”
“The apricot parfait exotic Amaryllis,” he finished with a smug smile. “I know my woman.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling. He wasn’t wrong.