Chapter 4
Dalton
I watch through the window as Bree’s expression changes. When she first spies the letter, there’s nothing but curiosity on her face.
She slides the letter opener across the wax seal, breaking it. I didn’t even know they still made wax seals, but it was in the letter writing kit that Lizzy from the One More Chapter bookstore recommended.
I swore her to secrecy, explaining she couldn’t tell anyone. She put a hand on her chest and teared up while the other hand went to cup her growing baby bump. That’s when her over-the-top husband, Noah, came rushing over to glare at me.
I quickly paid for my order and got the fuck out of there.
There’s a reason most of the men in town avoid the bookstore, and it has nothing to do with Lizzy. She’s friendly and a great bookseller, but her husband is crazy possessive and quickly runs off the male customers, so we don’t hang around too much.
It’s understood here that the men of Courage County are obsessed with their women and aren’t afraid to stake their claim in public or in private.
Bree stares at the wax seal for a moment, running her thumb along it before she opens the envelope.
Both the envelope and the pages are a faded brown meant to be reminiscent of old-fashioned letters.
It was part of the kit. While it felt silly at the time, now I’m glad I went with it because Bree deserves to feel special every single day.
I watch her unfold the paper, her eyes scanning over it, and my gut tightens. I want to burst into the room and tell her exactly how I feel.
I want to confess that the letter was written by me, but the way that she avoids me tells me that she’s not ready for a big profession of my feelings just yet. Instead, I have to be patient and content myself with this love letter.
She pauses when she finishes reading it and wipes a tear away from her face. My heart nearly stops in my chest. I’ve made her sad or scared or said something awful in my words.
I want to barrel in there and apologize for whatever dumbfuckery I committed. But before I can, she clutches the letter to her chest, just like one of those cartoon characters and lets out the smallest, happiest sigh.
She holds the letter for a long time before carefully tucking it back into the envelope and replacing the wax seal.
She places the letter back into a drawer before she’s called away to start seeing patients. I ride the high of having delighted her for the rest of the day. I want to spend my life making her happy and giving her reasons to smile.
After work, I watch her leave and follow her to her apartment. I’ve been doing that every day since she arrived. I always follow her and make sure she gets home safe.
Once I’ve watched her walk up the stairs to her second floor apartment and disappear inside, I put my truck in drive and head toward Bronco’s place.
He and I have a standing dinner date once a week. Most of the guys who know Bronco end up adopted by him.
When he left the Marines, he bought land in Courage County and built a huge farm. Veterans can come and crash between tours of duty or after retirement.
The ranch gives the men a place to return when they come back stateside and are struggling to find their way again. It gives us normalcy and a sense of control. Two things you lose pretty damn fast when you’re in a combat zone.
As soon as I get to the ranch, Max and Rex jump out of my truck. They follow me to the south pasture where I can already smell the burgers and hot dogs cooking over an open grill grate.
The chairs are set up in a circle around the burning embers. Some of the guys are relaxing after a hard day’s work, waiting on dinner. Others are fixing broken down equipment, tending to animals, or clearing pastures.
Bronco knew what he was doing when he set up this place. There’s always something to be done. Always a reason to keep your body in motion. Almost makes a man think he can outwork the demons.
Bronco sees me and nudges the chair next to himself in invitation. I plop down in the camping chair with duct tape on its leg, listening to the way it groans.
“What are you having, the usual?” Ridge asks.
He’s a silver-haired veteran who served the longest. He and Bronco always take turns cooking for the men.
They’re older and more experienced than a lot of the guys here.
They often guide them through the problems that come with reintegrating into society.
“I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” Bronco says.
I shrug and accept the beer he passes me. “Wanted a hot meal.”
“You need a wife,” Flint mutters with a teasing glint in his eyes. He’s always teasing, always trying to get a laugh from people. He’s one of the younger guys here, not quite as grizzled as the rest of us. He works on the lawn crew with me.
Cord, who also works on the crew, nudges him. “Who says she’d like to cook?”
Flint shrugs. “Who says she wouldn’t? Some women like to cook. Hell, I like to cook.”
Cord sends him a glare. “And run your mouth.” Though I suspect he likes Flint’s talkative ways. The younger guy always keeps enough of a conversation going so you can just grunt along.
Flint ignores him and asks out loud, “Did you see the new nurse practitioner?”
Acid burns in my gut as soon as they start talking about Bree. Cord pours an obscene amount of mustard on the grilled hot dog that Ridge passes him.
“Yeah, I saw her,” he says.
“I haven’t caught a look at her, and it’s been two weeks since she started working there. Is she pretty?” Flint asks.
He doesn’t realize that he’s been kept at the far end of the gardens on purpose. He’s younger and funny, and there’s every reason that he would like Bree. I can’t let that happen. Jealousy has me gripping my beer can hard.
I glare down at it as if it’s responsible for my misery. Cord and Flint are oblivious to my possessiveness.
“I didn’t even notice her. Lauren looked nice today though.” Cord shoves a big bite of food into his mouth like he didn’t just wave a red flag in front of a bull.
Beside me, Bronco stiffens and mutters a curse under his breath. “You stay away from her.”
Cord holds up his hands, but there’s no mistaking the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He was annoying Bronco on purpose. Everyone here knows Bronco has a thing for Lauren, the receptionist at Wildflower.
“They say she’s from out of town,” Flint says, changing the topic back to Bree.
I want to ask if he knows anything else, but before I can, more guys join from the barn.
Ridge tosses extra burgers and hot dogs on the grill as the conversation and beers flow freely.
The topic never turns back to Bree again, which means they don’t know anything.
Part of me is glad that they don’t, and part of me feels like I wasted my time coming here tonight.
I could have gathered better intel by just sitting outside of Bree’s apartment like I do most nights now.
After dinner, I find myself with Bronco in the barn trying to get a tractor running again. It seems something is always breaking down on the ranch, and Bronco says that’s just the way it is.
He tosses me a greasy rag. “Are you doing okay? You haven’t been out here in a while.”
Bronco is the reason I’m in Courage County. We served together for a little while, and when I knew I was getting out, I called him.
I bunked on the ranch for a few months before I bought my cabin in the mountains. Communal living isn’t for me, but I get why a lot of the guys like it. It reminds them of their time in the barracks, of what it feels like to be part of a brotherhood who has your back no matter what.
“Seemed like a good time to stop by,” I hedge, not sure what to tell him or even how to explain what’s happened to me.
He doesn’t answer. He just waits for me to go on like a patient big brother who actually gives a damn about you. I can’t say I’ve ever had anyone care about me like that in my whole life.
Finally, I sigh. “Have you been with anyone since coming stateside?”
Something flickers in his expression, but it’s gone before I can read it. “There are guys that come back home, and then there are guys that come back home.”
He doesn’t have to explain what he means. Some of us reintegrate successfully, while others never really leave the combat zone. Bronco believes he’ll never be more than a soldier haunted by his demons.
If you’d asked me two weeks ago, I probably would have said the same thing about myself. But since meeting Bree, everything is different.
“I’ve found the one. Her name is Bree,” I say her name softly, the way a dying man whispers a prayer.
That’s what it feels like. I was nearly gone, lost to the pain that comes from seeing the worst things humanity is capable of.
Then she was there, scolding me about the importance of her patients and putting me in my place.
“The new nurse practitioner?” he asks.
I nod, not surprised that he was paying attention during the conversation.
There might be a million things happening on this ranch, but Bronco never misses a detail.
It’s not in his nature. He was a gunnery sergeant, always on alert, always looking out for ways to protect his men and keep them safe.
“I’m going to marry her. She’s my future wife.” Getting to say those words out loud sends a thrill through me. I know it’s only a matter of time, and I can’t wait until the day I can slide my ring on her finger.
He chuckles. “Does she know you exist yet?”
I can’t help chuckling, too. “Oh, she’ll know I exist soon enough.”
He claps me on the back. “Well, you better claim her before someone else does.”