Brothers of Miller Ranch Box Set

by Natalie Dean

Because there had certainly been a whole lot of that. Missy was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and her lips had been so soft, and her body so warm and…

  “Come on, get it together, Bart.”

  But was there any getting it together when he had kissed what might have been an angel that God had sent to Earth?

  He closed his eyes and groaned, trying not to think of the little gasp that had escaped that perfect mouth of hers, and how soft her hair had been wound around his fingers.

  And then there was his other hand. He had meant to slide it around behind her, support her back while he let his mouth tell her everything that he was feeling. It seemed to have a mind of its own, however, and had slid along her warm, soft, feminine body.

  It had been heaven, and despite all the passion raging through him, there’d been peace.

  He was where he belonged. In Missy’s presence, he felt safe. Centered. Like he was really and truly himself.

  And then she had ripped herself away, looking at him like he was a monster.

  Ugh.

  He sat up, holding the side of his head in irritation at himself. Recalling the look on her face, one of absolute horror and shock.

  He really was a monster, wasn’t he? She had been trying to help him, and he had let himself get carried away. Why would someone like her ever want anything to do with him. He was broken. He was so messed up in the head that he was depending on the support of a random farm worker just to function. He had hurt her. He was insane to think that she could ever be attracted to him.

  Ever want to kiss him.

  But even as he sat there in his bed, drowning in his shame and guilt, he couldn’t help but replay the moment over and over again in his head.

  She was just so…

  Perfect.

  He had to apologize. He had to grovel before her for anything he did wrong. He didn’t deserve her friendship, but he couldn’t lie about needing it desperately.

  He couldn’t help but snort at himself a little. He was by no means a small man and was well aware of his own strength, he could disassemble then reassemble his gun with a blindfold. He knew how to engage a foe with that same gun, or hand to hand.

  But none of that strength mattered if Missy was going to hate him.

  How had this happened? He’d only known her for less than two weeks. How had she managed to completely turn his life upside down?

  He didn’t know. And he didn’t take the time to figure out any answers. Instead, he strode straight toward the barn, his phone telling him that it was just a bit past the start of the workday.

  Hundreds of thoughts flitted through his head about how he would convince her that he was sorry. To beg for her forgiveness. None of them seemed right though. All just cloying and weak and messed up. But he had to at least try.

  When he reached the barn, he could feel his heart thundering like he was back in that dark place again, but as he walked around, he was beginning to realize that all his rushing was for nothing.

  She wasn’t there.

  “If you’re looking for Missy, your brother came and got her this morning.”

  Bart turned to see the same worker who had told him about Missy not being there before. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “Yup. If’n you’re looking for her, just find him.”

  Bart nodded, not needing to ask which brother he meant since Ben was back, and he rushed to where he guessed Ben might be on his walkaround.

  It took a bit to find him, but eventually they met up, and Bart tried to appear nonchalant.

  “Hey, Ben—”

  “She’s being retrained elsewhere.”

  Bart stopped short, catching up with the quickly uttered sentence. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You’re here to ask about the girl, right? She’s been trained elsewhere.”

  “Oh,” Bart said slowly. Well, he’d never been very good at subtlety anyways. “Which are—”

  “Sorry, that’s an employee matter. It’s not really something I can discuss.”

  Now Bart really was staring at his brother. “What are you talking about? I—”

  Ben shot him a sharp look. “Just let it go, Bart. She’s in another area of the ranch. If you actually care about her, you won’t ask.”

  Bart hadn’t been expecting the tone that his brother was taking with him. Had… had Missy told him everything? His stomach squeezed at that and guilt threatened to drown him entirely. “Ben, I—”

  “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t really need to hear it. Just go back to the main house and stay out of trouble.”

  Bart opened his mouth to say something but then realized that he had absolutely nothing to say. This was it. Everyone knew now. That he had hurt Missy and then used up her time like some sort of selfish jerkwad, and then kissed her like an idiot.

  And now he couldn’t even say sorry.

  Bart couldn’t go to the house again. Not yet. There would be too many staring eyes, and pitying or disappointed looks. He didn’t think that he could stand that.

  Instead, he just walked.

  And walked.

  And walked.

  A lot of thoughts went through his mind. Some of them bad, some of them just confused, but he could feel himself walking back toward the worst he’d ever been.

  That was pathetic, right? Shoving off the responsibility for his happiness onto some woman he had just met. It wasn’t her deal that he had PTSD that liked to manifest in night terrors and sleepwalking.

  He wasn’t sure how long he was going to walk, but eventually his phone started to ring. Given that no one ever called him, he quickly pulled it from his pocket.

  In all honesty, he had been hoping that it was Missy. Instead, he saw the contact ID for his mother. Clearing his throat and trying to get his head on straight, he answered.

  “Hey, Ma.”

  “Hello, son. Are you all right?”

  He knew that tone. It was a mom-tone that meant she already knew the answer. “Why are you asking?”

  “Can’t a mother be worried about her son?”

  “Of course. But that’s not why you’re calling.”

  “Fair enough. Where are you?”

  Bart sighed. “Walking the fields.”

  “Are you safe?”

  There it was. That worry. He hadn’t been fooling anyone, had he? “Yeah, Ma. I just need to think.”

  “Well, I’d like to talk to you. Could you come home? It’s just me here.”

  “I’m not really sure I’m in the right mindset for a lecture right now, Ma. I’m kinda still reaming myself out.”

  “I’m not going to lecture anyone, dear. I think that maybe I could shed some light on the situation.”

  Bart felt something between suspicion and curiosity well up in him. “What do you mean?”

  “Just come home, please.”

  She hung up leaving Bart with a choice. He could do what he usually did when he was struggling and keep on walking, or he could go see what his mother had to say. He knew what fresh back-home Bart would do. But wasn’t he trying to be better than that man?

  Sighing, he put his phone in his pocket and headed back to the main house.

  It didn’t take him long to get there, and when he did, he found his mother gently swinging on the porch swing, a jug of lemonade and some fresh crackers with what looked like a summery spread next to them.

  “Hey, Ma,” he said, sitting down next to her. The swinging was a pleasant sensation, almost soothing, but there was still that edge to his mood.

  “Hello, Bartie.”

  “So, you have some light to shed, huh?”

  “Yes dear.” She poured a cup of lemonade for herself, then him, and then continued swinging for several moments until she finally spoke again.

  “The young woman that you asked to dinner—”

  “You can say her name, Ma. We don’t have to pretend that she’s just another worker anymore.”

  “So, she is important to you?” Her voice was g
entle as she spoke. Not accusing. Not reproachful. Just curious, like a mother’s should be when she heard that her son might be falling in love with someone.

  “Yeah, Ma. I’d say that’s the case.”

  “I see.” More silence, as she seemed to think. “So, Miss Dominic called me this morning before work and asked if she could speak to me.”

  Ah. So this was how everyone found out. It figured.

  “I was a bit suspicious, but I thought perhaps she was going to confide in me about how she got those bruises on her neck. I feel a bit guilty about asking her before when we barely knew her.”

  “Look, Ma. Missy’s not a bad girl on in trouble.”

  “Yes. I get that now. You see, she told me that she understood where I was coming from and that you were lucky to have a mother who cared so much for her son. And to prove that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with you, she asked to work somewhere as far from you as possible, where you would never meet. Or talk. Or at least very rarely.”

  “I see,” he echoed his mother’s earlier comment.

  “But then Ben calls and tells me that you’ve been looking everywhere for her, and as a mother, I began to put together that maybe she wasn’t the one doing any of the pursuing. According to the other workers, she just seems to want to prove she’s a good employee.”

  Her wise eyes searched his face, seeking out the truth, wanting to comfort but also wanting to know exactly what was happening. He could see all of that crossing her face, and for once, the walls within him rolled down for just a bit.

  “Would you say that was true, son?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a long breath.

  Then her hands were over him, assuring him as only a mother could. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? From the start?”

  And so he did.

  All of it.

  Every moment of it.

  Starting from how he had almost choked her to death and ending with that world-changing kiss.

  “Oh… oh my goodness,” his mother said when he was finally done.

  “Yeah. I messed up big time.”

  “Yeah, yeah you did.”

  He was a bit surprised to hear her say it so flatly, but he couldn’t argue against the truth. He rubbed his face, feeling even more annoyance with himself.

  “Oh, my little Bartie—” Only she could get away with calling him that. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

  He looked up, sighing bitterly. “What? That I’m a complete idiot who completely misinterpreted my situation with a woman who my parents’ employ?”

  “I don’t think you misinterpreted the situation. I think that you don’t understand how things are for Missy.”

  “What, you mean that her employer’s son nearly killed her and then came onto her when she was just being a kind person?”

  “No,” his mother said firmly. “Think about it for a second, son. Think of how things must be from her viewpoint. How the life she’s lived might affect how she would interpret your kissing her.”

  He tilted his head to the side, trying to think. His mother was looking at him expectantly, and he just didn’t get it. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

  “Goodness, Bartie. Look at her! She’s like a pin-up on legs.”

  “Ma!”

  “What?” she said with a bit of exasperation. “It’s the truth. God blessed the woman with a body that even a saint would be tempted for. And with a body like that, you have to take into account that people have reduced her to just that since she was a young woman.”

  His eyes widened, it all started to sink in. His mother seemed to see his expression and nodded.

  “There you go. Now you’re getting it. Just imagine, even since she was sixteen, or fifteen, or fourteen, she’s had men trying to get into her pants. And I don’t mean as in a second-hand store.”

  It was incredibly strange to hear his mother speaking so frankly.

  She continued, “So, she’s had to build up all these protections to make sure she’s safe. That no one is going to take advantage of her like that. And even with all her fighting to stay safe, people still label her with actions and a personality based on what they see.

  “So when you kissed her—when you did what no doubt hundreds of men have been trying to do since she was young—you triggered her own boundaries in a way.

  “I’m sure she was suddenly sure that you were like everyone else who’s hurt her. In that moment, even though you might have meant the best, you were telling her that she was exactly what everyone always told her she was.”

  Bart stared at her, his stomach twisting. That was the last thing he wanted. “Ma, but I don’t think that. I never even knew that was a thing!”

  It made his temper flare. How could people reduce Missy down to just her parts? She was so strong, wise, and hilarious. She was kind as could be, and strange and brilliant all rolled into one.

  Of course, she was bang-up gorgeous and beautifully, maddeningly soft, but that took a back seat to everything else about her.

  “I know, darling. I could tell by the way you looked at her. And how you went into town to apologize for my wrongdoing, and how you fought for her. I also see it in how you’re excited to face the day now.” Her hand reached out, gently caressing the side of his face. “It has been far too long since I have seen you look forward to anything, and if she is the reason for your happiness, then I owe her all my thanks.”

  “So then what do I do, Ma? How do I fix it?”

  “Treat her how you would any other woman you were interested in.”

  “But… I don’t get it. Isn’t that what set her off?” He felt so dumb, needing all of this explained to him by his mother like some schoolboy, but he’d had no idea, not even an inkling, that Missy had a certain… reputation. Sure, those farm hands had said some disgusting things about her, but he had guessed that was what young, twenty-somethings did when they wanted to be edgy. He knew his mouth hadn’t been the cleanest when he first joined the military.

  “No, what set her off was the kiss. You happened to skip a few steps, and those steps were the same ones that most people have tried to skip. Woo her. Treat her like a lady. Show her your affection goes deeper than her appearance because that’s what no one has ever taken the time to do.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  She smiled softly at him. “I feel foolish for forgetting, but I remember my mother went through similar issues. No one thought she was good enough for my father and judged him for marrying her years after the fact. Rumors of her being a gold digger, trapping him, the list went on and on. I used to get in fights all during school about it.”

  “When did it stop?” Bart asked curiously. He’d never heard any stories about Grandma Seever being ostracized or looked down on. Then again, that probably wasn’t the kind of story a grandmother would tell her grandchildren.

  “Right about when we moved out here. Turns out changing your environment could do an awful lot of good. Because the folks here didn’t know her as she looked when she was younger, they only saw a beautiful, yet respectable housewife.”

  “That’s just not right.”

  “No, it’s not. And I’m more than a bit embarrassed that it may have been in the back of my mind.” She heaved a large sigh. “I guess it’s just so easy to listen to gossip and want to believe you’re better than somebody else, even if it’s baseless.”

  Bart leaned over and kissed her cheek. “She already accepted your apology, Ma. Thank you for telling me this.”

  “Of course. You’re my boy, and I think you could do right by her, if you get your head on straight and treat her like a woman should be treated.”

  “I’d like nothing more, Ma.”

  “Good. Then I suppose you better cook up a plan and get to it. The longer she thinks you’re just like everyone else, the more the idea will stick.”

  “Right. That makes sense.” Bart stood, ready to take action, only to realize that he didn’t know exactly where t
o take action.

  “Uh…”

  “She’s out at the edge of the farthest pen, mending fences with Benji.”

  He shot her a dazzling smile. “Thanks, Ma.”

  There probably weren’t words to explain how monumentally stupid he had been, but all Bart could hope was that Missy had it in her to forgive him.

  Again.

  …maybe he should go get some flowers first.

  20

  Bart

  By the time Bart managed to get a decent bouquet and a gift certificate to an online pet shop, it was nearing late afternoon. He knew he had to hurry if he wanted to catch Missy.

  And boy did he want—no, need—to catch Missy. There were so many words in his head, so many emotions in his heart. He knew that he had messed up, but he wanted to set this right. If only she could see how hard he was kicking himself, maybe then she would have some mercy.

  Of course, since Missy was like no other woman, he should have approached her like no other woman. He should have known that. And maybe if he wasn't, well, who he was, he would have known that.

  Too late to go back and try to change it. The only thing he could do now was make it better. Prove that he wasn’t like all those other people who might have misjudged her.

  Instead of parking his car and trying to pace across their large property, he took one of the lesser used paths, his truck bouncing along as he probably went faster than he should have. But there was no time for caution, no time to take it easy.

  In truth, waiting another day was impossible. The thought that Missy had spent even one night with the idea in her head that he didn't care about her, that he saw her as a loose woman that he could mess around with and forget, made his blood boil and his heart hurt. She didn't deserve that. No, she deserved the most, and if she gave him a chance, he'd like to think he could give that to her.

  Or at least try. And if he failed, if he ruined it like he ruined everything else, if he ended up more broken than he was before, at least he could say that he had tried.

  And it all would have been worth it.

  He spotted her and Benji just on the horizon. He was standing in the truck bed, filling his canteen from the large water cooler he kept in the back, while Missy was adamantly digging. He could see from each over-exaggerated jab of her shovel into the ground that she was angry, and it made him wince a bit.