by Cindi Madsen
Aiden nodded. “That woman is definitely on the overly protective side. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Maybe get him on a horse. Harlow can go along for the ride, but I don’t want her alone with him.” In fact, Brady was going to do another walk by to remind Maddox he was watching every move. He strode over to the duo and placed his hands on his hips. “How’s it coming?”
“He’s getting better each throw,” Harlow said, shooting Maddox an encouraging smile. It didn’t seem flirty. Just her regular upbeat cheer, which was why he’d wanted her help in the first place.
“Good. I spoke with Aiden, and we plan to get Maddox on a horse this weekend and see how that goes.”
“You know I’m right here,” the kid said.
Brady clapped him on the back. “I’m well aware. I just figured I’d tell Harlow while you were within earshot, so you’d know about it but not feel like you had to give me attitude. Guess that method crashed and burned, so back to the drawing board for me.”
He probably shouldn’t poke at Maddox, considering he wasn’t sure the kid understood teasing or that family and friends often used it on people they cared about. But it was Brady’s home base and the best way he’d connected with kids in the past.
Maddox shook out his rope and gave him an almost smile, which was the most he’d gotten out of the teen so far. “Joke’s on you. I’m excited to ride a horse, especially with Harlow there to help.”
Here Brady was worried about her getting attached, when it appeared Maddox was the one becoming enamored. “With training for her other events, Harlow doesn’t have time to teach you from scratch, so you’ll be with Aiden for horse-riding lessons.”
Every ounce of happiness faded from Maddox’s features, and a pang went through Brady. That was the other hard part about working at Turn Around Ranch. He and his family wanted to make the kids as happy as possible, so they’d have good memories mixed in with the ones involving hard work and even harder lessons, but sometimes giving them what they wanted wasn’t in their best interest.
“Keep up the good work, though. I’m impressed.” There. He’d given Maddox encouragement, too. Nick and Liza were far better at knowing the right thing to say. Ma, too.
With their time ticking down for training, Brady should focus. Instead, his phone burned his thigh, imploring him to bring it out and text Tanya for his next fix. The restlessness he’d been experiencing hadn’t been as strong since they’d jumped into preparations for the rodeo, but it wasn’t quite appeased, either.
This over-the-phone stuff was for the birds. Without body language and tone, he couldn’t properly read her intent, and that left his brain endlessly spinning. Perhaps that was the reason he’d been overly focused on Tanya and what every little thing she said meant.
No big deal. All he had to do was schedule a meetup, broach the topic of the state fair, and scrutinize her reaction. The idea of controlling the situation really should’ve occurred to him earlier, but as he’d told Nash, things had been busy.
Brady: Hey, wanna grab a drink at the Tumbleweed tonight?
Tanya: I can’t.
Brady: You know what they say about all work and no play. We’re both too awesome to end up dull. I’ll pick you up at seven.
Tanya: Rain check? Eric’s insisting on taking me out for dinner tonight so he can ask more questions about running a ranch while getting a break from it. LOL
Out for dinner. With Eric. Brady’s gut sank all the way down to his toes, and he sure as hell didn’t feel like laughing out loud. Tanya was his person. More than anything, he wanted her to be happy, but every organ in his body protested the idea of her out with another guy. The fact that he’d also read everything so wrong scraped at him. What an idiot he’d been, thinking she was flirting with him out of the blue.
It’d been so long since either one of them had a date that he couldn’t remember what typical procedure was. Wish her luck? Go threaten the guy with one of those “If you don’t treat her right, I’ll break your face, which is something I want to do anyway” speeches? Tell her to break a leg?
After rereading the last text, he decided to focus on what was important. Tanya, and how she felt about herself.
Brady: That guy certainly didn’t waste any time asking you out. Not all that surprising, but I’d be shocked if he was good enough for you.
Three little dots formed on his screen as she typed her reply, and Brady hoped she’d say something like, You know what? You’re right. Never mind, I’ll meet you at the Tumbleweed. Maybe even request he call partway through the date so she’d have a way out if she needed one.
Tanya: It’s not a date, silly. It’s a business meeting. I’ll call you once it’s all wrapped up and maybe we can get together afterward?
Sure. The classic “business meeting dinner.” Countless times through the years, he’d caught men checking out Tanya. Whenever he remarked on all her lust-struck cowboys, she clucked her tongue and told him he was imagining things. Trust him, he wasn’t. So naturally, she’d never assume the city-slicker CEO was after more than sharing a meal.
And then what? Brady could have the scraps?
Irritation flared, leaving him itchy inside and out, and he fought the urge to toss his phone in the other direction. As if that’d make the situation any better.
His thoughts had only just begun to wander down the perilous what-if path.
A simple correction, and he should be able to wrangle them back to the spot where they’d veered off in the wrong direction. If only a sense of foreboding didn’t rise up and whisper that it might not be quite that easy.
Chapter 8
A string in Maddox’s chest tugged as he watched the tiny girl with the giant pickup drive away. There went his entertainment for the next few days. The hours they trained suddenly didn’t seem like nearly enough.
Once the coast was clear, he grabbed his sketchbook and pencils from his room and sat on the porch. This afternoon, he’d soaked in every detail so he could get Harlow’s heart-shaped face exactly right. Each stroke of gray across the blank white paper calmed him, and he got lost in the slope of her nose, shading the round cheeks that popped whenever she smiled, and the shape of her lips.
Seconds turned into minutes, turned into maybe an hour, until movement near the main cabin caught his eye. He blinked as if awoken from a good dream, noting the fading sunlight and refocusing on the actual scenery instead of staring through it.
Shoot, it was dinnertime, and the staff was a stickler about punctuality.
Maddox darted inside the boys’ cabin, jammed his sketchbook under his thin mattress, and then rushed across the property to where the adults were herding his classmates inside. Most everyone was already seated around the oversize dining table.
The blond toddler twins both gawked at Maddox as he approached, and Elise pointed at his arm. “He gets to draw on himself, Mommy. Why can’t I?”
“And he has an earring,” Everett added. “Aren’t those for girls?”
Liza grimaced, but Maddox didn’t mind directness—he preferred it. Just cut through the bullshit and say what you mean, no false hope or sugarcoating it. Kids were good at that. He’d been stared at plenty, and the majority of the stares from kids stemmed from a fascination with his tattoos.
“These don’t come off,” Maddox said, stepping toward Elise and rolling his arm to show off his ink.
Then he realized Liza probably didn’t want him so close. That happened a lot, too, mothers pulling their children away. But she didn’t seem to mind, and even gestured to his extended arm. “They’re tattoos. But you can’t get them until you’re older.”
Elise reached up and fiddled with one of her pigtails. “How old?”
Liza sighed and closed her eyes. “Forty.”
“Are you forty?” Everett asked.
Maddox chuckled and ruffled the kid’s hair. “
Close to it, bud. You’ve got a great mom. Make sure to listen to her, ’kay?”
“I listen, but Everett doesn’t,” his sister said.
Everett argued “Do too,” to which his sister said, “Do not.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Liza’s mom voice made both of them sit straighter. Then she gave Maddox a friendly smile. “Sorry. They’re in that curious, ask-a-hundred-questions-a-minute stage. Or they’re bickering. It’s nonstop, either way.”
Maddox ran a hand through his hair. “No worries. I don’t mind questions.”
“I’ll send them to you, then, and you can play Google,” she said with a laugh, and he gave her a cautious smile. He wouldn’t mind, but he’d also been around the block enough to know she didn’t truly mean it. “By the way, I saw you roping today. You’re getting better and better. Harlow’s an excellent teacher, huh?”
His muscles tensed. Was this a trap? Had she noticed him staring at his roping tutor in those in-between moments, when he got caught up in the scrunch of her nose and those adorable freckles?
Was the woman upset? Trying to warn him away?
He got it. Guys like him needed to stay away from girls like Harlow. Did Liza think he was stupid? Or had a death wish?
I probably am, and I kind of do.
“I’m gonna go sit down,” he said, backing away before the counselor could continue her interrogation.
The door between the kitchen and living room swung open, and Jess walked in carrying a large pan. “I’m sure you all smell the smoke, but don’t worry. I just spilled some maple syrup on the burner. Silly me, I forgot to buy syrup when I went grocery shopping, so I made it from scratch. It was a little touch and go for a while, but I think it turned out okay.”
She put down a pan piled with pancakes, along with a giant pitcher of steaming syrup.
Everyone began passing around the food and digging in. Forks hit plates and the buzz of conversation filled the air. It was like having family dinner with thirty people. Maddox supposed that, anyway, since he’d never done much of the family-dinner thing.
He groaned when he took a bite of the pancakes and the homemade syrup. It’d turned out better than okay, and several people told Miss Jessica so. He should probably add his two cents about it, but that’d mean opening his mouth and drawing unwanted attention.
Smiles spread from one face to another, the spirit of camaraderie palpable. Most of the other teens had been here longer than he had, and they all seemed…happy. Or at the very least okay with being here.
His skeptical side balked, tempted to declare them all brainwashed. But that didn’t ring true. Under other circumstances, he might even think this was nice, the assurance he’d get meals three whole times a day while chatting with people who asked kind questions and teased one another. Back in the city, dinner generally involved greasy takeout in the office of the mechanic shop while he and the foster parents he was supposedly staying with pretended one another didn’t exist.
But no matter what, he couldn’t get used to this.
It wasn’t the kind of thing that lasted.
* * *
Brady walked past the deer that would never escape the wooden wall next to the hostess stand—the front half of the animal was on one side, the back half on the other. All part of the charm of the Tumbleweed Bar and Grill. Tourists often took pictures of Bambi, and while he supposed the decor came across as weird to outsiders, Jeb Miller had bagged that buck before Brady was even born. He’d heard the story several times, though. Jeb had been about to give up on his hunting trip, and then he climbed over a ridge and there the deer stood.
As Brady rounded the hostess stand, he nodded at Amy and then let his gaze roam over the myriad vintage signs nailed to the wall. Various speed limits, route markers, and clever sayings like “Gone fishing” screamed from every angle.
Wade and Jess had already claimed a table near the bar. Being a third wheel hadn’t been Brady’s original plan for the night, but when he’d asked his brother if he wanted to grab a drink, he’d mentioned that Jessica was craving the Tumbleweed’s chili.
Irritation scrambled Brady’s insides as he eyed the two empty chairs. He already loved Jess like the sister-in-law she’d soon be, but being around her and Wade was only gonna remind him of what he’d truly longed for tonight—alone time with Tanya.
Even though he’d seen her a few days ago, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling she was slipping away. Probably stupid and unfounded, but that was the best way he could describe it. Then again, say that fancy-pants businessman did go and sweep her off her feet? What would Brady do then?
His stomach dipped way down to the toes of his boots. Suddenly, he considered bolting through the nearest wall, the way that deer up front appeared to have done.
Over the past several months, there’d been a handful of changes, and positive or not, the adjustment period was a bitch. Whatever was going on with him caused the same sensation of everything in his world shifting without warning. If Tanya were here, she’d tell him to stop acting like a cranky old man.
If she were here, he’d welcome the razzing.
Jess stood and gave him a hug. “Hey, Brady, glad you could join us,” she said. Then her face paled, and she spun on her heel and sprinted toward the bathroom. Wade was halfway out of his chair in seconds, watching her rush off, a worried, helpless expression on his face.
The chair legs scraped the wooden floor as Brady took a seat. “Have you guys told Ma that she’s gonna be a grandma yet?”
Wade’s head jerked toward him, his eyes wide.
“Oh, come on.” Brady rested his forearms atop the table. “You said she was craving chili, and then she just looked at me and bolted for the bathroom. I’ve seen my reflection in a mirror, and it’s not one that causes the sudden need to barf.”
“Cocky bastard,” his brother muttered.
“A correct cocky bastard.”
Wade slowly settled back into his chair and exhaled. “No, we haven’t told Ma yet. Jessica’s just over two months along, and you know how Ma gets. Especially after her miscarriage.”
It was a subject they usually avoided. At four months along, their mother lost a baby girl, and in spite of how many kids she and Dad already had—both at home and the teens on the ranch—it’d broken a part of her. Now every time a woman in town was pregnant, Ma fretted on her behalf. It meant she’d be ecstatic about becoming a grandmother but take the doting and worrying to the extreme.
Jess returned to the table, most of the color back in her face and a piece of gum in her mouth.
“He knows,” Wade said as she settled at the table.
Jess ran a hand through her wavy blond hair. “Bolting at the sight of his pretty mug did me in, didn’t it?”
Brady chuckled. “That’s about word for word what I said. Congrats, by the way.” He glanced at Wade. “You, too.”
Wade and his fiancée beamed at each other. Had a conversation with smiles and raised eyebrows before Wade added, “Besides you, Chloe and Aiden are the only ones we’ve told so far.”
That didn’t surprise Brady. Jess and Chloe were the closest mother-and-daughter duo he’d ever met, and Wade considered Aiden his kid. When they’d had to go to court to fight for custody, Wade was the one who’d gone to the mat for Aiden.
Jessica picked up the menu. “We’re going to tell everyone else soon, though. Your mom keeps asking why I don’t want to set a wedding date, and I don’t have the heart to tell her she’s not going to get to plan a wedding for another year. I didn’t want a shotgun wedding when I was sixteen, and I don’t want one now, even though Wade and I would both know it wasn’t just happening because I’m knocked up. Silly or not, I want the whole big ceremony and a beautiful white dress that doesn’t have to accommodate a pregnant belly.”
Brady scratched at his forehead with his thumb. “I get it, but Ma�
�s pretty traditional. Plus, she’s dyin’ to plan a wedding.”
“Understatement,” Wade said. “On both those counts.”
Jess nudged Brady with her elbow. “I guess the only solution is for you to hurry up and get married.”
“Ha-ha.”
“Let’s see…” Jess tapped her lip as if she were deep in thought. “If only there were someone perfect for you right here in Silver Springs. Say a funny, smart, super pretty redhead who’s been right under your nose for years.”
Brady shot her a warning glare, but unfortunately, those had never worked very well on Jess. “For the last time—”
“We’re just friends,” she and Wade finished for him, giggling as they made googly eyes at each other.
Yep, the singular empty chair at Brady’s side now seemed sadder than ever. Agreeing to this outing might’ve been a mistake. But at the idea of a niece or nephew, anticipation tingled through him, and he always had enjoyed finding out things before everyone else. Went back to his love of winning, he supposed.
The waitress came by, and they placed their orders. Brady couldn’t imagine wanting chili after puking, however Jess meant business when it came to her craving. “Please bring chili in the biggest bowl you have, along with a shit ton of crackers.”
The door to the Tumbleweed swung open, and Brady automatically glanced toward it. Because of the motion, sure, but it was practically law to wave at everybody, whether you were driving or crossing paths in one of the town’s few establishments.
As soon as his brain registered the couple who’d stepped inside, the rest of his body went on hiatus.
Tanya’s out-of-control curls had been flat-ironed, and based on her venting about how long that took, it meant she’d put in effort. Totally unnecessary, since she always looked beautiful.
That thought lodged in his brain, where it blinked and buzzed like a neon sign. Had he ever called her beautiful before? In his head or aloud?
Whenever he saw her, he experienced a heap of happiness and comfort, never giving much thought to her appearance. She just looked like her. His person since forever.