Chapter 15
Caleb
The cab of Wade’s truck smells like old leather, motor oil, and thick black coffee from Wade’s thermos cup. The man is coffee obsessed.
We’re headed into town for feed and fencing nails, and whatever else is on the list, but I know damn well there’s another reason we’re leaving the ranch today. We need some space and a chance to talk without anyone’s eyes or ears on us about what the hell Wade was doing with Joelle last night.
My twin has one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window like he hasn’t a single care in the world.
But I know better.
He’s been wound tight ever since Joelle showed up. Tighter now that he’s had her.
“So,” I say after a few miles of quiet road. “You gonna tell me what your plan is with her?”
He doesn’t look at me, but grunts, “What plan?”
“With Joelle.”
“Yeah. I know who you’re talkin’ about.” He scratches his jaw. “No plan. Just hoping she stays.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Even with the kid?”
Wade nods, no hesitation. “Kid’s no issue. House is big. If she wants to build somethin’, she can do it here.”
That surprises me, not because Wade’s cold because he’s not, but he usually only trusts those who earn it first.
“She knows that?” I ask.
“I told her,” he mutters, but the flicker of hesitation in his voice reveals uncertainty.
There’s a big difference between telling her she can stay because her work trial is over and telling her to stay as a lover.
We’re about ten minutes from our nearest small town when I lean back in my seat and let my arm hang out the window, allowing the breeze to cool the sweat on my palm.
“And what about me, Wade?”
That’s the question I should never have to ask.
We’re twins. We’ve spent a lifetime making decisions together.
When our father died, and we inherited the ranch, we promised each other that the security of our business would always come first. We saw firsthand how easily a marriage could destroy our claim.
Luckily, our father had already put the business in our names before he put a ring on Joelle’s mom’s finger.
But I’m not going to stand by and find myself sidelined by this situation.
Worse, I was always closer to Joelle than Wade was.
If anyone should have a chance to make her happy, and build a life, it should be me.
I love my brother like I love myself, but he’s gruff and reserved, and far less capable of meeting a woman’s emotional needs than I am.
And Joelle has emotional needs greater than most women her age.
She has a son, which is a level of responsibility that neither of us has even contemplated.
He gives a low laugh, throat-deep. “You know what I like.”
I do.
Wade’s a watcher. A sharer. That kink is hard to indulge when you live in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.
“Joelle’s not like that,” I say.
“You sure?” He turns to me, his eyes off the road long enough to take in the flush to my cheeks at the thought of becoming part of whatever they have going on.
“I don’t know, Wade. You know more about her now than I do.”
“She’s only been with one man before me,” he says. “And only once. Can you believe that? Some asshole got her pregnant and left nothing but dust in his wake.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, my fists balling at my sides. Men like that deserve the hottest, most torturous place in hell.
“She needs stability and security and love. We’ve got the first two covered, and love?
” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how much I know about love, Caleb.
But I know I want to make her happy. I never want to see another tear on her cheek.
I never want her to feel the panic that was clinging to her when she pulled up at the ranch. ”
“That sounds like the start of somethin’,” I say, staring out at the arid horizon. “That sounds like more than I’ve ever heard you want.”
“You know me, Caleb. When there’s work to be done, I don’t think about much else. There’s been no one worth more than a passing glance since I grew hair around my dick. Joelle’s a good girl. We can make her happy, and what else is there in life?”
I snort at my brother’s simple yet surprisingly romantic notion.
“Not much,” I admit. “Not much at all.”
“So you’re in?”
“Of course,” I say. “But what if Joelle doesn’t want that. What if we scare her away?”
“She respected and cared about you enough to name her son after you, brother. It might not be your regular setup, but there’s plenty of families out there living an unconventional lifestyle. We can convince her to stay with both of us.”
“She thinks she’s your girl, right?”
“I reckon so.”
“So, it’s down to you to tell her what you want,” I say. “Give her space to consider it.”
“I can do that.”
“Before she brings her son, though. I don’t want her to feel like we ambushed her with plans for a life she might find repulsive.”
Truth is, I’d love to get my hands, and mouth, and everything else, all over Joelle.
She’s beautiful, sweet, and kind—a real peach.
We’d be lucky if a girl like that wanted the small life we can offer her.
It won’t be elegant. There are few luxuries in a home like ours.
It’s hard labor laced with risk. She lived it for a year, but she was barely involved in the ranch's operations back then. She didn’t see how tough it can be to eke out a living from the land.
We can’t sugar coat what life will be like if she stays. She needs God's honest truth.
The town rises in the distance, dusty and flat as always. Feed store. Gas pumps. That old white church that hasn’t seen a real sermon in a decade.
Wade taps the steering wheel. “You remember the Schultzes? That trio from out by Crater Ridge?”
“Yeah. Husband, wife, and her high school sweetheart all shacked up together.”
“Same setup with the Ramos cousins, too.”
“They make it work?”
“They seem happy.”
I recall how Joelle clung to me with sadness. She’s fallen into Wade’s arms so easily. She might have it in her heart to fall into mine that way, too. But I want her sure about a step like that, before we all get tangled in something that could hurt.
“I’ll talk to her today,” he says, like it’s as simple as ticking off an item on his shopping list.
I hope it will be. I hope, when he tells her I want her too, that she’ll be happy rather than disturbed. The last thing I’d ever want her to be is upset.