Chapter 44
Colter sat hunched at the old pine dining table, shoulders tight enough to crack. Spread across the surface were maps, genetic charts, semen catalogs, mare profiles, projected cost sheets. Enough paperwork to choke a lawyer. He traced a finger over a column, then shoved the whole folder away.
Boone whistled low. “Careful, that binder and those speculations cost us five grand. Don’t bruise her.”
“I feel like I should marry her first. Take her to dinner. Whisper sweet nothings.”
Eli snorted while pouring another mug of coffee. “That is how you find yourself knocked up with ten colts you can’t afford.”
Despite himself, Colter huffed out a laugh but the pressure in his lungs stayed. He rested his elbows on the table, fisting his hands in his hair. “I mean it. What if I screw this up?”
Boone sobered, sliding the coffee his way. “Define screw up.”
“Bad picks. Bad breeding matches. Dumping sixty grand into a stallion that turns out sterile. Tanking the program and making Dad roll in his grave.”
Eli took the chair across from him. “You think Dad never made a bad investment? He once bought a rooster that couldn’t crow. We named him Whisper. He was a menace. Remember?”
Boone nodded. “We loved Whisper.”
Colter dropped his forehead onto the table. “You two are idiots.”
Boone shrugged. “We contain multitudes.”
Eli tapped the table to refocus him. “Look at me. You are allowed to feel overwhelmed. This is a big swing, but you’re not swinging alone.”
Colter lifted his head. “It feels like it. Everyone expects the middle son to pull off the Hail Mary. Dad believed in me and I don’t want to waste that belief.”
Boone’s expression gentled. “Dad believed in all of us. He expected mistakes. The man bought thirty peacocks because he got drunk at an auction. Peacocks, Colter.”
Eli pointed a pen at him. “And he swore they would ‘bring prestige.’ One attacked the mayor’s wife.”
Colter’s mouth twitched. “I forgot about that.”
“Point is,” Boone said, “Dad was not risk-averse. He raised us the same way. If there is anything the last year and Vivi has taught me is that you are allowed to try. You’re also allowed to get it wrong.”
“And when you do?” Eli added. “Your family steps in, because that is what we do.”
“You forced your help on me,” Boone said, referring to last year when they’d nearly lost the ranch to Boone’s stubbornness. Colter and Eli had sat him down and had a come-to-Jesus talk.
The knot in Colter’s chest loosened a fraction. He looked between them. Boone’s steady confidence, Eli’s blunt certainty.
“You two ever get scared?” he asked.
“I’m terrified daily. Hell, I’m about to be a dad. Terror is my new way of life.” Boone said.
“I hide it better than him, but yes. I dodge bullets for a living and dread is my pastime. Welcome to adulthood.”
“In this family, weakness is shutting the door and pretending you do not need backup. Strength is handing someone the damn rope when you are sinking.” Boone knocked his knuckles against Colter’s shoulder. “Plus, we like helping. It makes us feel useful.”
Colter rolled his eyes, but the affection burned bright in his chest. The silence that followed did not feel heavy. It felt honest.
He stared down at the charts again and, for the first time, he did not feel alone. “Okay. We keep swinging.”
“That’s our boy,” Boone said.
“Our moderately intelligent brother,” Eli corrected.
Boone gave a solemn nod. “Moderately.”
Colter flipped them off with heat.
Then, because something in him cracked wide open, his thoughts drifted where they always drifted these days. A woman built for hard things who kept choosing soft ones anyway, and a little girl who ran straight at him like she didn’t know the meaning of hesitation.
Boone caught the far-off look and grinned. “Thinking about your girls?”
Colter did not bother denying it. “More than I should.”
Boone arched a brow. “Have you figured out if it’s short-term infatuation or long-term investment?”
“Long-term. You and Vivi long-term.”
That shut Boone up for a second. He gave a slow nod that meant he understood exactly how serious that was. “Then you need to be honest with Sutton. Say what you want. Say what you can give. And don’t half-ass it.”
“Yeah. Don’t half-ass it,” Eli agreed.
“What the hell happened to protecting my heart?” he asked his youngest brother.
“What the fuck do I know about relationships? I was left at the altar.”
“He has a point,” Boone said.
Colter exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just don’t know if she’ll listen or bolt. She’s been burned. She protects her kid and her world. I’m not sure I can get past her armor.”
Eli spoke before Boone could. “If she runs, go after her. Otherwise, you’ll end up like me.”
Boone’s voice dropped low. “What Eli is saying is, don’t be that guy.”
“Yeah, if Sutton’s it, then fight for her.”
Colter swallowed hard. Because that was exactly what he wanted. A future with a family and a long-term life where Sutton woke up in his arms and Lynlee barreled down the hall and called him hers.
This time, the fear did not make him retreat. It made him ready.
“And be sure to make room for them,” Eli added. “The ranch. Our program. Hell, the future. None of it means anything if you are living in a shallow pond. Go deep.”
Boone held his gaze. “You don’t need to do any of this alone.”
Colter felt the truth settle deep. Vulnerability did not diminish him—he was starting to learn—expanded him.
He let himself imagine something bigger than duty, that maybe included love.
He picked up a pen, marked the stallion prospect that scared him, and said, “Alright. Let’s build this fucker.”