Cowboy to the Core

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Cowboy to the Core Page 27

by Maisey Yates


  “What’s going on with your family?”

  The lines in his body went hard, all of his muscles tensing up. “There’s no need for us to have a discussion about that.”

  “I’d like to.”

  “It’s all related to the bullshit with my dad.”

  “Yeah,” Jamie said. “I’m not all that surprised to hear that. But...I would like to know what exactly happened that’s kept you so busy that you couldn’t see me over the past few days.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Did you talk to your mom?”

  “Jamie, it doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters,” she said. “It matters because I...I care about you. And we’ve been sharing all this family stuff. All of it. I just...cried a trail of snot on you yesterday over a plate of trout. I think that you can say that I’m a safe space for you to tell me whatever’s going on with you.”

  He laughed. “I don’t need a safe space.”

  “Everybody needs a safe space,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said. “Yeah, I talked to my mom.”

  “And?” He turned to face her, his broad, naked back toward the mountains, his...everything facing her. There was something incongruous about the picture.

  Gabe naked in the open air like that, as if he had nothing to hide, when she could feel the walls going up between them.

  “I understand if it hurt you...” she began.

  “My dad didn’t know about the kids. She did. She hid it from him. She used me. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

  She frowned. “No. I mean, I guess. But there’s nothing satisfying about that. Gabe, I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to be,” he said. “I mean, it is what it is.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “There’s only one thing to do. I’m going to write some letters. I’m going to see who I can find.”

  “Well, that’s...good. That’s a good thing to do.”

  He made a grunting sound.

  “I’ll help you,” she continued.

  He shook his head. “You don’t need to help me.”

  “Why not? I’m helping you with the ranch. I’m helping you get everything set up to bring those boys on. Why can’t I be involved in this, too?”

  “McKenna, Jacob, Caleb and I are handling it.”

  She was so frustrated she wanted to scream. She wanted to take care of him. She didn’t want to do that strong, silent Dodge thing and ignore the pain. Cover it up, and pretend that it was being self-sufficient. Pretend that that was the way a family should take care of each other.

  “Secrets and dividing lines are the ways messes like this start,” she said.

  He frowned. All those lines that had seemed lighter in sleep seemed more pronounced now. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It’s all about keeping things from each other. And not being able to talk about feelings.”

  “You just started talking about feelings two weeks ago, and now you’re lecturing me about mine?”

  She shook her head. “Every problem I’ve seen in my family has come down to secrets. Sure, there were things we couldn’t control. Things like my mother’s death. But everything else... The reason that Wyatt left, the reason that Bennett didn’t have his son... Secrets. But you have to break the cycle somehow.”

  “That’s what I’m doing,” he said.

  “While also building walls between you and me.”

  “You’re not my family.”

  The words hurt. So damn bad, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why, when they were true; she wasn’t his family. She was just...the woman he was sleeping with. And maybe for him that really didn’t mean anything. Even now. It had been tempting for her to make it into something, because it felt like a hell of a lot to her. But he’d never promised anything more than this, and she was the one who had changed. She was the one whose feelings had changed.

  “I know,” she said, the words muted. “But I’m something. I’m something, and it feels like that should matter.”

  “You can’t help me with it,” he said.

  She was tempted to shut her mouth then. Tempted to let it go. Because that was what she’d always done, when she’d been a kid. She’d shut her mouth, and let it go. She’d picked herself up and told no one she was in pain.

  She let the anniversary of her mother’s death go by without saying anything. Had dealt with getting her period. And not told a soul.

  Had watched her brother grieve his wife for eight years, without pushing into that pain.

  Had let Wyatt carry the burden of the rift between him and their father, and let him stay quiet about it.

  Had never pushed into Bennett’s facade of the perfect life to find out why control was so important to him.

  Because that was how the Dodges had cared for each other.

  Giving each other space.

  And it hadn’t helped a single one of them work their shit out. In each and every case it had taken a person busting into their lives and pushing.

  So Jamie was ready to push. Not just to be right.

  Some things in the world couldn’t be fixed.

  But some things could. And she had a feeling that wisdom was all about knowing when to push on what could be healed.

  She could only hope that in this moment she had some wisdom, and not just stubbornness.

  “Your mom lied to you. None of that’s fine. None of this is okay. And if you’re not okay with it, that’s to be expected. Why would you ever just accept this?”

  “There’s not another choice.”

  “Let me help you. I might not be family, but I’m here now.”

  “How are you going to help me?”

  “I don’t know. I could always just be with you.”

  As offers went, offering herself was a damn scary thing. Because there was every chance that he would just laugh at that.

  “Whatever you need to do,” he said, shrugging. “Coffee’s on.”

  She had won the argument, more or less, but she didn’t particularly feel like she had, seeing as his acquiescence wasn’t in any way cheerful.

  “We gotta have that coffee,” he said. “So we can get going.”

  Jamie nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was clinging to something with tenacity.

  She didn’t always feel like she had the best set of skills when it came to dealing with this man. But she sure knew how to hold on. And right now holding on might be the best thing she could do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  IT TOOK TWO days for him to find an address for Leonora Caldwell. She lived two hours down the five, to Cottage Grove.

  Close enough that Gabe thought it might be the thing to do to pay her a visit.

  He knew that when Jamie found out about the whole thing she would want to go with him, but he was struggling with the point of including her. She wanted to, but there was no reason.

  What they had was temporary. Temporary was all he was good for.

  And all those things he’d done with her lately, the things that went beyond sex and a good time, he was concerned that they’d muddied the waters. He’d hardly been able to say no to her birthday camping trip idea, but this... Yeah, he wasn’t going to tell her about it. And she would be pissed later, but well, he’d deal with that when he had to deal with it.

  He hightailed it out of the ranch before running into her that morning, stopping for coffee at The Sugar Cup before getting on the road. And when he pulled his truck up to the dilapidated house on the very end of a dead-end street, fury ignited his blood.

  Whatever money his mother had given to this woman clearly hadn’t been enough.

  And then there was fury at himself.

  That he hadn’t done a
nything for them when he had been told of their existence. Sure, he might not have been given a name, but that didn’t fully absolve him.

  Of course, fifteen years ago, it hadn’t been quite so easy for someone to just look up an address at home, but that was beside the point.

  He put his truck in Park, grateful that there was a run-down car in the driveway. It meant that someone might be home.

  He walked up to the front door, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and then he knocked, rocking back on his heels while he waited.

  It took a few minutes, but then the door opened, a thin, young-looking woman answering. It surprised him how young she looked, though he supposed she could be his mother’s age. Her hair was dark and neat, her frame slim. She was tiny, only coming up to the bottom of Gabe’s chin. She had no makeup on, which added to her youthful appearance. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Leonora Caldwell?” he asked without preamble.

  “You’re not going to serve me papers or anything, are you?” There was a glint of steel in her eyes. And it let him know that no matter how young she looked, she was a woman who’d done a lot of living.

  “No,” he said. “I’m not going to do that.”

  “I’m Leonora Caldwell.”

  “I’m Gabe Dalton. I’m Hank Dalton’s son.”

  A parade of emotions went through those dark eyes. Disbelief, hurt. Anger. Then she made a scoffing sound. “Oh, you’re his real son, then.”

  “I’m his son just like any other he’s responsible for. I’m looking for my half brother.”

  She straightened, tilting her pointed chin upward. “Why are you looking for him?”

  “Because I figure it’s time someone in my family tried to do right by the both of you. And if that has to be me, then it’s me.”

  “Well, don’t stress yourself out none.”

  “You should’ve been treated better than you were.”

  She looked around. “You’re not going to yell at me for having an affair with your father?”

  “My father had more than one affair. As you well know. And he’s responsible for his own behavior. He’s the one who made vows to my mother, not you. And ultimately, while I don’t blame my mother for trying to keep you away from him, trying to protect what little she did have, it wasn’t the right thing to do. She shouldn’t have done it. We should have had the chance to get to know our half brothers. And so, I want to make sure I fix that. And I want to make sure that...when it comes to inheritance, and all of that...he deserves a cut when the time comes. Because if the money is Hank’s, and not ours, and it’s going to his children...then that should include all his children.”

  “Well, aren’t you an honorable one,” she said, her voice tight. “That’s a surprise.”

  “I’m not honorable. I’m Hank’s son, through and through. But I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

  “Well, he doesn’t live here anymore. He’s in Texas. I don’t have his current address, but if you want to try to get in touch with him his name is West Caldwell.”

  “Can you get in touch with him?”

  She shook her head. “We are not on speaking terms.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.

  “Family,” she said. “What are you going to do?”

  “You’re telling me,” Gabe said. “Here’s how you can contact me. If you need anything. You’re right. Family’s complicated. But in a way, you’re part of mine.”

  Gabe was glad he had the whole drive back to the ranch to get a handle on himself.

  * * *

  JAMIE HAD TAKEN every single horse out for a brief ride—very brief—but every single one, and was getting antsy by the time Gabe’s truck pulled into the property. She didn’t know why, but she had a strange feeling of intense anxiety over his whereabouts. The fact that he hadn’t answered her texts hadn’t helped.

  It wasn’t like she didn’t expect him to have other things going on, but normally, he would have just answered the text and told her where he was, rather than ignoring her, or being all cloak-and-dagger. Which was what this felt like. The fact that he hadn’t been at the ranch when she had arrived that morning had seemed... Well, it was weird. And she had no real reason to think that, except that her gut was telling her it was a little bit messed up. And she was going to have to go with her gut on this one. She put Gus away, and then walked out to the front of the barn, hands on her hips. “Where have you been?”

  “I went to talk to Leonora Caldwell.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know who that is.”

  “The mother of one of my half brothers.”

  She blinked. “I thought you were going to... I thought I was going to help with that?”

  “I found her easy enough, and I didn’t see the point to trouble you.”

  This was all becoming unbearable. All of this intimacy had been built between them. And it had... It had changed her. On a fundamental level. It had altered who she was, and how she felt about things. It had opened up the door to a piece of her she hadn’t known was there, and with it, she’d been flooded with all these new desires, hopes and dreams.

  And now he was pulling away, and it was killing her. And there was only one thing she could think to do, one thing that had been tugging at her for at least a week now. And she’d been avoiding it. Avoiding it because she was afraid. Because she was afraid of being wrong, afraid of being hurt.

  But she... She’d cried on Gabe. On her birthday.

  And she’d let herself hurt for her mother. And she hadn’t worried much about whether or not she deserved it. She had just let herself have it.

  And that Jamie—that Jamie who had found a way to crack open all that armor she spent a lifetime building—she thought that the risk might just be worth it. That no matter what happened...

  That honesty with vulnerability was different than shoving your opinions out on everyone and insisting you were right.

  She considered that honesty for years. But it wasn’t. It was layers and layers of steel with some true things placed over the top of it, but there was no softness for anyone else’s pain to land on. There was no crack so that their response could find any purchase inside her. Her version of honesty had been something that went in one direction.

  “I wanted to help you,” she said softly.

  “Why? I didn’t need it. There wasn’t any point.”

  “There doesn’t have to be a point,” she said, looking up at him, dirty from the day, sweaty and clammy beneath her tank top. It was the worst possible time to be having this conversation, but she didn’t know what else to do. And she didn’t know when else to have it.

  Because unless something changed, things weren’t going to get better. He was slipping further and further away from her. Like all of this intimacy that had happened had been an accident on his end, and now that he realized it he wanted to make sure that it stopped.

  “I love you,” she said.

  He looked at her, those electric-blue eyes gone hard. “What?”

  “I love you. That’s the point. When you love somebody, you just want to be involved in their lives. And you know what? I haven’t let myself do that. I love my brothers, and there was still a wall between us. There’s been a wall between me and my friends, me and my father. All because... All because I couldn’t deal with the loss of that first love, that I wouldn’t even let myself grieve. It’s all self-protection, and it’s bullshit. It doesn’t protect you from anything. It just keeps you lonely. I don’t want to be lonely. I want to take care of you, and I want you to take care of me, because that’s how you love people. Because that’s how you find some closeness. That’s how you erase some of the loneliness that we all carry around in our souls. Believe me, I’m a champion at figuring out ways and reasons to not let people close. But I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t.”

  “Jami
e, look at the shitshow my family is. I am not in any place to love someone, and, honey, that’s not what you want, either.”

  She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t that. That paternal, ridiculous tone. Him telling her that she didn’t want to be in love.

  And regardless of the other changes that had taken place inside her over the past few weeks, she still didn’t like being told what to do.

  She never would.

  That was one thing she was sure about.

  “No,” she said. “I’m pretty clear on the fact that I’d like to be in love with you.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You want to barrel race.”

  “Kate Monaghan barrel races. Sierra Thompson barrel races. Nothing stops them from it. Having a husband, even having children, doesn’t stop them.”

  “Yeah, and it didn’t stop my father, either. But then, having a wife and children didn’t stop him having affairs.”

  She blinked, trying to process the meaning of his words. “And you think I’m going to have affairs?”

  He sighed, the sound tired, weary. The sound of a man much older than thirty-three. “I believe that at some point, my genetics are just going to catch up with us. Look at my family. My mother lied to me, manipulated me. My father deserved basically everything he ever got.”

  “They made bad choices,” she said. “Your blood doesn’t make you go out and cheat on your wife, Gabe.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  She was stunned just then, by the unfairness of it. Of him acting like there was no choice. They were alive. They were alive and well and they could be together. And God knew what was up ahead, but they could have now.

  Except he was a damned coward.

  “You know what your blood does?” she asked. “Sometimes it makes a clot after you have a baby. And that clot travels into your lung and kills you. You don’t have any choice over that. My mother didn’t have any choice over that. That’s something you can’t fight. That’s something real. Blood doesn’t make you cheat.”

  “Then maybe it’s all about what you learn,” he said. “And I sure haven’t learned how to be a husband. I sure haven’t learned how a relationship is supposed to look.”

 

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