Kiss Me Cowboy (Cowboys of Crested Butte Book 3)
Page 23
Jace offered to go out on the road, but Hank insisted he be the one to go. He was glad to stay put. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he wouldn’t be able to. If they were going to make a go of this business, both he and his father would have to be out there, delivering bucking bulls to the rodeos that contracted them.
For now, he had 12,000 acres of land to cover, and six hundred head of cattle under his care.
As he rode up to his parents’ place, he saw his mother waving at him from the front porch.
“Join me for breakfast?” she called out to him.
“Would love to,” he answered, leading his horse into the corral. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”
“Huevos Rancheros. Go get cleaned up and I’ll make you a plate.”
“You got any coffee brewin’, Mama?”
She laughed and shook her head. Yeah, that was a stupid question. Carol Rice almost always had a fresh pot of coffee going. His father was addicted to the stuff.
“It’s good to have you in my kitchen,” she said when Jace sat down at the table.
“Good to have your kitchen so close.”
Carol put her arm around her son’s shoulder, and kissed the back of his head. “I love you, sweet boy.”
“You might be the only one who does these days. You and Daddy.”
She swatted his head, the place she’d just kissed. “Oh, Jace. That’s a load of nonsense and you know it.”
“I don’t know ’bout that, Mama,” he muttered.
“You got some amends to make, boy. Once you have, your life will come back together the way it’s supposed to.”
It wasn’t only his estrangement from his twin brother that troubled him. Jace was beginning to think he’d never find the kind of love his parents had. For a long time, Tucker believed he wasn’t worthy of love. Maybe it was Jace who wasn’t, and that was the reason he kept falling in love with women who fell in love with someone else.
“Would you like to see some pictures of the sweetest grandbaby in the whole world?”
“You know I would.” Jace took the phone from his mother’s hand and started scrolling through the latest photos from Blythe. His nephew was getting so big. As he swiped his finger across the screen, one photo made him stop. Blythe’s sister Bree held the baby on her lap. Her head rested against his, and her eyes were closed. Her arms were wrapped around him, and he leaned into her, as though it was the most comfortable place in the world for him to be.
Jace’s arms ached. He longed to hold the baby, but it was more. He longed to hold Bree, too.
It had been important that he be the one to tell her what happened with the accident. And, when he had, she accused him of wanting her to smooth things over between Tucker and him. That wasn’t it at all, but he hadn’t bothered to try to convince her otherwise. If she’d felt any of what he was feeling, she would’ve known that wasn’t why he told her.
When he closed his eyes, he could see those arms, the ones she had wrapped around baby Cochran, folded in front of her. She’d closed herself off to him that day. That was the reason he left the way he had. And never looked back.
Even when she had texted him pictures of the day Cochran was born, he didn’t respond. He couldn’t. If he did, he might be tempted to…to what? Ask her if she could forgive him? She’d think he’d lost his mind if he had.
Instead, he ignored her. He needed to get Bree Fox out of his head. He closed his eyes and started to hand the phone back to his mother, but he stopped and took one more look. He couldn’t help himself.
“I hear Bree is leaving Monument.”
“What’s that, Mama?”
“I talked to Blythe yesterday. She’s torn up about Bree leaving town.”
“What do you mean? Where’s she going?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe you should give her a call yourself and ask her.”
He shook his head. Was she kidding?
Carol sat down at the table, across from her son. “I’m serious, Jace. Why don’t you call her? I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
He waited until his mother went into the other room, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and scrolled through the contacts until he found Bree’s number.
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She closed the car door, and zipped her jacket. The blue sky and bright sun were misleading. This close to the ocean, the wind could be fierce, even on the sunniest days.
From where she stood in the gravel parking lot across the street, she saw a man walking toward her small town’s only supermarket. There was something familiar in the way he held himself. His worn barn jacket was taught across his shoulders, but hung loose over his narrow hips. Although his jeans were more metro than ranch, his boots were all cowboy, and so was his black, felt Stetson.
Peyton took a deep breath. It wasn’t the first time her mind played this particular trick. She looked left and right once she got inside, but didn’t see the man who’d probably been a figment of her imagination anyway.
Growing boys needed milk and orange juice, so before she’d even left the first aisle, her cart was half full. She was reading over her shopping list, on her way to the produce section, when her eyes met a pair of hauntingly familiar deep, blue eyes—eyes of a man she thought she’d never see again. Her disappointment was palpable as she scanned his face. The eyes were familiar, and maybe even the way he held himself that had her heart skipping a beat. But the man standing in front of her, whose eyes took in every inch of her in the same way her gaze traveled from his face to his hands, was not who she thought he was.
He raised and lowered his chin, “Hey.”
Peyton nearly closed her eyes. She knew the deep timbre of that voice intimately. “Sorry, you look so much like someone—” What could she say? Someone she used to know?
“Yes,” he murmured.
“Get that a lot?” She tried to laugh, but the pain she felt whenever she allowed herself to think about Kade Butler brought her closer to tears than laughter.
“No, I don’t.”
“I’m sorry, you don’t what?”
“Get that a lot.”
“Oh…uh…well.” Her hands gripped the shopping cart handle, but before she could move it forward, he grasped the wire basket.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Name’s Brodie. Brodie Butler.”
Peyton closed her eyes just long enough that the tears she thought she held at bay flooded over her lids, and down onto her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Peyton. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”
“But you meant for it to happen?”
“As I said, I’ve been looking for you.”
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