35. Silas
The drive back to Blue River Ranch is shorter, with less traffic at this hour. Max is asleep in the back seat by the time we cross the gate. It’s been quiet—with not a single word spoken between us—but not uncomfortable.
If I’m honest—because someone freaking needs to be—I’ve been staring at the dark road ahead of me trying to convince myself I’m angry at Jasper. Not her.
But the closer I come to confronting her—the less I’m convinced.
I settle Max into bed and watch him for a long moment. Trying to see my old friend in his features. Trying to get my own answers like they’d come just by looking at him. Silently asking him how—why it had to be Jasper.
It’s quiet in the living room. Dark too, save for the single table lamp. The kitchen lights are on low, with Storm pacing in front of the island, pausing mid-step when we lock eyes.
Mine are hard. And there isn’t a damn thing I can do to help it.
I stalk toward her and lift her, sitting her over the island and pressing my palms on the cool stone on either side of her.
She swallows again.
“Say something,” I urge, my voice down to a whisper to keep from growling.
Her head drops to her entwined fingers before meeting my eyes. “It was the night of his party.”
I blink, having figured as much.
“Same party you went looking for me?”
She nods, a tear falling loose down her cheek.
I step back, swiping my thumb across my bottom lip, twisting away from her. The words, Last I checked, Jasper looked nothing like me on the tip of my tongue but I bite it down. Even in my head it makes me sick being that petty with her.
“Silas,” she breathes. “He told me you left.”
I nod, shifting away because I need space. “With some girl, yeah, I know.”
“He lied to me.” She jumps off the counter, and I hear the plea behind it. It pulls me back from spiraling, my fingers itching to hold her.
“It was my last chance to see you. To tell you how I felt,” she continues and the ache I hear behind it just won’t do.
I lift her face, looking into her tear-filled eyes. “You did nothing wrong that night.” I bend to kiss her lips softly and it’s almost instantly healing.
Swallowing, I brush my hand down the side of her face and step back, my stomach knotting because I hate to leave her like this. “Lock the door behind me? I need to run out.”
Hurt flashes in her eyes but she catches herself quickly and nods. It’s another punch to my gut because she’s been so strong and fucking incredible tonight with the way she handled him. All without warning.
If only I could be that for her right now. But I need a minute. “I shouldn’t be long.”
I take the keys to the cottage and the car and walk out before I can say something I’m going to regret.
It takes me the few short steps from the cottage door to her Range Rover to know where I’m heading.
Ten minutes later, I’m at his door, my heart pounding, my head swimming with confusion and anger.
Dallas pulls open the door in a T-shirt and flannel pants. His eyes still squinting from the kitchen light he’d flicked on a moment ago.
“How ’bout that drink?” I rasp.
He takes one look at my face and growls. “Hang on, let me get a hoodie.”
A few minutes later, we’re at The Shack. It’s midnight and the place is long locked down for the night. It takes him a minute to find the lights then he motions me toward the bar.
“You know it doesn’t have to be beer. Got a good whiskey here if that’s the mood you’re in,” he offers, stepping behind the bar.
I shake my head. “Just your best on tap.”
He pours two pints. Each filled with our usual. Then comes to sit beside me. Giving me time before asking questions.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
He nods, looking ahead, taking a slow sip. “She tell you?”
I glance at him. Too tired to confront anyone else tonight about keeping things from me.
“He showed up at the game tonight. Saw us leaving together.”
“Shit.” He shakes his head. “She must be in bad shape. Hope you plan on going back.”
I frown, lifting my drink. “Course I’m going back. I just needed a minute to . . . not look at her.” The words feel like a betrayal. Foreign and sour. Because she’s all I ever want to look at. But right now it makes it hard to think straight.
After a beat, my brother sucks in a deep breath. “Know how you feel,” he grunts. “Dad took me out for a few beers that night.”
I nod slow, instantly knowing what he’s talking about. “I remember.”
The day of Ellie’s custody hearing, Willow ran out of the courthouse and into my car after Dallas lost his daughter to her grandfather. Apparently, the lawyer found and used information Willow held back. Somehow proving their marriage was staged.
Dallas pats my back. “Thanks again for getting her home safe for me.” He takes a sip.
“But like you, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind I was going back to her that night.
It doesn’t make you weak or unsupportive.
It makes you human. This is the woman you love and she kept something from you you probably should’ve known.
But doesn’t change how you feel about each other. ”
I shake my head, my stomach turning with guilt and confusion. “How can I sit here and blame her for something she did when she was eighteen?”
He takes another long sip, not bothering to answer.
“She came looking for me, Dal. That’s what makes me sick the most. It should’ve been me there that night.”
“Why wasn’t it?”
“I’d already gone by the time she showed up. Jasper said I’d left with some girl. Then offered her a drink. He knew I had a soft spot for her.”
“Then why we sitting here instead of bashing this guy’s head in?”
“I’m on a tight leash to stay low.” I take a sip, the glass icy in my palm, like it’s freezing me in place when all I want to do is burst.
“Who said anything about you throwin’ the punches?”
“Dallas, if I’m good at anything, it’s knockin’ someone out cold. Least you could do is let me prove it.”
He chuckles and backhands my arm lightly. “You remember when Wilder went to New York to get Rose back last summer? And I needed help around here?”
I toss him a smirk. “I remember seeing you laugh for the first time in months when I held a pitchfork like it was a hockey stick.”
He laughs, almost the same way he did back then. And as nice as it was seeing him let loose after Millie died, I didn’t laugh along. Somehow, I’m finding the humor now.
He shakes his head, lifting his glass. “I say, having you back here for those few days was the medicine I didn’t know I needed.”
I frown at the admission, clink my glass to his. “Good.”
“Look, I know it sucks. It’s a downright shit situation. But Storm’s had to live with it for ten years. Alone.”
“Fuck you’re right.” I clench my teeth. “But I’m gonna need more than a few hours to get past it, you know?”
“Sure do,” he says bitterly. “Sure do. But you gotta be upfront about that with her. She’s a smart, tough girl. She’ll get it.”
I think about the hurt in her eyes when I was leaving. And how quick she was to cover it.
“That kid you hung out with in high school was always a prick. But you’re forgetting one important fact. She’s yours now. Always meant to be.”
My chest feels raw. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because Storm has always been your girl. Why you think we hired her on the spot—especially coming from Callahans?”
“Because she’s talented and you all adore her?” I point out the obvious.
“Yes. But we weren’t lookin’ for a horse trainer. Hell, we weren’t even offering lessons before she came on board.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t get it.”
He leans in like it’s obvious. “Storm’s special to us because she’s special to you.” He leans back. “You might’a let her go but we weren’t about to.”
I exhale a sharp breath. “Not by choice.”
“I know,” he adds quietly. “And if life’s ever fair in any way—it was bound to bring you two together.” He cocks his head. “Could say we kept an eye on her for you.”
“And the cottage?”
He grins. “I was just giving you shit. Wilder told me you called him pissed about her apartment. We know you. We knew you’d take care of her. That you were going to insist we give her a place. Why do you think Dad came along that morning? Coincidence?”
I shake my head with a breathy laugh. “You fuckers. And the bet?”
“Oh, the bet was real. I didn’t think she’d take it.”
I rub my forehead, simmering down a little. Still conflicted.
“One more before you go?” he asks, sensing my hesitation to leave just yet.
I nod.
He nods back and reaches over the bar to pour us another. “Good. Because as much as I love ’em, I wasn’t planning to talk about women when I asked you to have beers with me.”
I take the full glass he hands me. “I know.”
He sighs. “All right look, I’m going to say my piece, and don’t want any eye-roll or teeth sucking or anything else outta you till I’m done. This shit’s not easy for me either but I’m gonna say it and you’re going to listen.”
“Shoulda said no to one more,” I grumble. “Go on.”
He sucks in a breath. “Look I’m no idiot.
I know I’m hard on you. I know when I’ve pushed too far or when I’m the reason you head for those gates the second you can.
But since Mom, you don’t have anyone to do that for you.
To remind you to take care of yourself. I’m with you, man, your career is all you have.
Because you never wanted to look at anything else.
It’s all you want, it’s all you know. You got any idea what it’d do to me if you lost that? ”
I swallow hard, but don’t bite yet. “I’d end up here and then you’d really be screwed?”
He scoffs. “Yeah.” Then takes a sip. “I just don’t wanna see you lost. It tore me up watchin’ you try to make it around here before finding out it’s not meant for you.
And I know we give you shit, but we love having you.
This is your home. I don’t give two shits if you can’t ride a horse, even if it came with training wheels, because let’s face it, you could outrun both Wilder and me any day on foot. ”
I huff out a laugh and hold up my glass to his.
He smiles. “So, we good? You can stop acting like you hate me when we all know I’m your favorite?”
I nod. “Maybe you are. Maybe that’s why your digs bothered me the most. But after talkin’ to Dad and now you, I think I get it . . . y’all took care of me differently. Maybe the way I needed to be, rather than wasting our time on what I don’t.”
He growls to himself. “I suppose we could do without the digs. But Sunday dinners will sure be a snoozer.”
I scoff and finish the last of my drink. “Somehow I doubt that.” I stand, grabbing my jacket. “Thanks Dallas.”
“Get your ass back to your woman—put a ring on it and put an end to our misery.”