by Jess Bentley
Her humor draws chuckles from us, and some of the tension in the room dissipates. Then we spend the rest of the evening chatting and tending to anything Jessa needs or wants. Or, as Jessa finally said when she got irritated by us, fussing over her.
We do our best not to bring up the accident.
In the late evening, a nurse peeks her head in to tell us the visiting hours are over. When Clay starts to argue with her, she points out that Jessa needs her rest and she can hardly do so with four hulking men hovering over her in the room. That draws an outright laugh out of Jessa, and grumbling, we promise to stay close by. We file out and load up into Joshua’s truck. After a quick discussion, we decide to sleep there. None of us want to leave, even to find a hotel room. Not tonight. Not without Jessa.
Joshua’s crew cab isn’t exactly comfortable enough for four men to sleep in it peacefully, but none of us are going to sleep anyway.
“I want to destroy Jed,” Clay says, a few minutes after we filed into the truck.
“The sucker deserves our worst,” I say.
Trey opens his mouth, and I expect him to point out that we have no proof Jed actually cut the brake line—he’s usually the voice of reason. But instead, he says “We’ll figure out what to do with him after Jessa is safely at home.”
“He is going to wish he was never born,” Joshua—usually another voice of reason among the four of us—says, voice rough.
I settle back in my seat and cross my arms. Jed Burke is going to regret messing with our woman.
Chapter 22
Jessa
“Do you think it could possibly go slower, Clay? You’re taking granny speed to a new level,” I tease Clay when a motorhome blows by us, only a few minutes after two eighteen-wheelers pass us. But he doesn’t speed up.
Two days after going into the hospital again I’m finally out. And I feel like celebrating, not being in a truck all day. But I settle back into the seat, cross my arms, and try not to harass Clay about his slow driving. After that crazy accident, I guess it’s no wonder that Clay wants to take it slow. I’m sitting between Trey and Clay in one of the newer trucks. Their overprotectiveness is a little annoying, but to be honest, I do find it endearing. Behind us, Tyler and Joshua are both still grumbling about having to ride in the back. Especially about having to ride in the back without me. But I ignore their grumblings in favor of teasing Clay every so often as we drive—ever so slowly—to the Hollister Ranch.
Once we finally arrive, the men help me out of the truck like I might break any second.
“The doctor said I’m fine, remember? A little bedrest, but he said nothing about needing to carry me around.” I tell the guys. “Weren’t you guys listening, too. I swear you were, even harder than I was.”
They all pointedly ignore me, and Tyler sweeps me into his arms as soon as my feet touch the ground.
I find myself grinning about their overzealousness. Once we get into the house, they don’t leave my side until I’m settled into one of the oversized couches in the living room. And when I mention something offhand about being hungry, Clay appears at my side with some leftover lasagna that BethAnn had frozen a few nights before. I’ve never seen anyone eat in the big, beautiful living room. But apparently, it’s happened before, because Joshua produces a wooden tray to go over my lap from one of the storage benches in the room. It works as a perfect table on the couch. No one objects when I find While You Were Sleeping on the satellite and watch it while I eat.
I let out a big yawn as the movie’s closing credits start rolling across the screen.
“Do you want to go lay down?” Joshua asks, springing up from the other side of the couch where he was forced to sit since Tyler and Clay took the spots next to me, and Trey grabbed a spot on the floor in front of me, leaning back to touch me as we watched the chick flick.
“A nap does sound nice,” I admit. “Hospitals aren’t exactly a great place to catch up on your rest.”
All four of them insist on helping me up to my room, but when we get there, I stop in the doorway.
Shock reverberates through me when I see the bed. It’s not a king—this bed could eat a king size bed for breakfast. And tears prick my eyes at the site. They went to all of this trouble for me, so they could all stay close to me. The bed looks ridiculous in the guestroom—even though it isn’t a small room. But the show of caring touches me, and I have to blink back tears.
“This is amazing. How did you guys do this?” I choke out.
Trey shrugs, looking uncomfortable.
“We have our ways,” Tyler says with a wink.
I head for the bed and sit down, but before they start tucking me in, I have to talk to them about something.
“Can you shut the door, Clay?” I ask.
The men, taking in my serious expression seem to misunderstand. “Are you okay? Joshua asks, sitting next to me on the bed. His eyebrows knit together in concern..
“Do we need to call the doctor?” Tyler asks, placing his hand on my forehead as if he expects to find a fever.
“It’s nothing like that, you guys. Really, I’m fine.” I smile at them, trying to show them that I’m not lying. I actually feel okay. “I just wanted to take a minute and talk to you guys about us. I appreciate this bed, this room. But I want to know...” I close my eyes and shake my head. “I want to know how you guys feel about this situation. About the baby.”
When I see Tyler’s eyes widen, I quickly add, “I’m not asking you guys for a commitment—believe me, I’m not. But, this baby could be part of your lives for—forever. He or she is going to be a tiny little Hollister—whether we decide if he or she goes by Long or Hollister. I just wanted to see how you guys feel about that.”
“I think it’s awesome,” Tyler says, words rushing out of him in a fit of emotion. “A tiny little Clay running around? That shit is going to be entertaining as hell.”
Joshua reaches out and cuffs his brother, bringing a dramatic “Ow” out of Tyler. “As far as we’re concerned, you and this baby are part of the family now,” Joshua says, his expression far more serious than Tyler’s.
“We’ll treat him or her like our own. All of us,” Trey adds.
I swallow around the hard lump in my throat. “Do you really mean that?” I glance at them all in turn, making sure they all know they’re included in my question.
“Of course, we’re sure. We’re going to love the little cowboy or cowgirl,” Clay says. He bends down and presses a kiss against the corner of my mouth. “We’re here for you and this baby. I’m not saying that I’m not as nervous as hell, but we’ll figure this out together.”
I almost push. The words threaten to fly out of my lips. Will you love me, too? But I don’t say them. I’ve no right to expect that much from these men. So instead I offer them a smile. And I simply say, “Thank you.”
Feeling like a weight has left my chest, I lay down on top of the comforter. “That nap is sounding pretty good right now.”
A chorus of chuckles, and then something touches me. I open my eyes to find Trey covering me with a smaller blanket that he must have retrieved from the closet.
He sees my eyes open, and he flinches. “Am I smothering you? I’m sorry if I’m smothering you, I just can’t seem to help myself.”
I grab his hand before he can pull away. “Not at all. Trey, no matter how complicated this is, I don’t want to lose this baby. And I’m totally willing to let you pamper me while I get better.”
His uncertainty dissipates, and tenderness touches his eyes. He gives me a quick kiss, his gaze lingering on my face, before reluctantly pulling back. “Get some rest, then.”
I fall asleep before the four of them can even get out of the room. And I wake a while later to the sound of low voices. I blink a few times to clear my vision, and I see the Hollister brothers at the foot of the bed, talking.
They haven’t noticed that I’m awake, and they continue to talk in hushed tones. Had they come into check on me? That would be my gue
ss.
“What we really need to figure out is how we are going to handle Jed,” Tyler says.
“He has to pay,” Clay adds, voice tinged with anger.
“What’s going on?” My voice is muddled from my nap. My brain refuses to fully wake up, but I can’t go back to sleep without knowing what they’re talking so seriously about. The journalist inside of me refuses.
Tyler starts, and Clay flinches. Trey merely turns to look at me, and Joshua leans back on his heels and crosses his arms.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to wake you,” Trey says.
I take a deep breath and let it out in a huff. He’s not answering my question on purpose. “What are you guys talking about? What did Jed do?”
The men share a glance, and I have the sudden urge to hop out of the bed and shake them.
“I was injured. But I’m not going to get hurt simply because you guys tell me what’s happening. Please don’t treat me like I’m so easily broken.” If there’s a warning in my tone, I can’t help that. I don’t care for being left out of the loop.
Before I can actually hop out of the bed and kick one of them, Trey answers me. “The car accident wasn’t exactly an accident, in the strictest meaning of the word.”
Trey’s reluctance to get into details annoys me immediately. Hadn’t I just said I wasn’t going to break? I sit up in the bed. “What you mean? How was it not an accident? There were no other cars around or anything.”
Another long moment of hesitation that makes me want to grind my teeth passes. Then Trey finally adds, “The brake lines were cut. Someone made us wreck on purpose.”
My mouth drops open, and a million questions buzz through my brain. Someone tried to make us wreck? More likely, anyone familiar with that road was trying to kill us.
Or could this be someone’s idea of a joke? No. You don’t cut someone’s brake lines as a joke. Someone who knew enough about the truck to know how to disable the brakes would certainly realize what would happen if they did so.
Then it really hits me what they said. “Why do you think it was Jed?”
“He’s got a grudge against us. You said it yourself. Besides, he was at the feed store, too.” The anger and Clay’s tone makes me jerk my head back. They know Jed better than I do, but I’m still not convinced.
“Has he ever done anything like this before?” I tug at a loose string on the quilt Trey had covered me with earlier. It’s pretty, and I wonder if their mother or grandmother might have quilted it.
“No,” Joshua says, uncrossing his arms. “But we’ve given him cause to be angry with us.”
My mind is still fuzzy from my nap, but even so, the little bit I know about the situation makes me wonder if this could really be Jed. “But you guys have been in this fight with Jed for over a year now, right?
Tyler nods. “Last time I was here was a year and a half ago. And Jed was fully pissed by then.”
“Has anything changed on Jed’s end in the last year? Or even, more importantly, in the last few months?” I ask
“He’s losing money,” Trey points out. “And he blames us for it.”
“But the Burke ranch has been in trouble for a few years. And I can’t think of anything new that could’ve set them off.” Clay crosses his arms and shakes his head. But I can see that I’m getting through to him, at least a little. Instead of anger touching his expression, his brows scrunch with confusion.
Sure, I don’t really know Jed Burke. And people can be capable of things that you’d never think possible in meeting them. But the reporter in me doesn’t think this feels right. “Could it be someone else? Is there anybody else with the recent grudge against you guys?”
Clay’s eyes widened. “Griz!”
“The foreman?” Now it’s Tyler’s learn turn to look confused. “Why would he have a grudge?”
“Because we caught him stealing the same night Jessa got here,” Joshua says, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we didn’t think about him, too. But he could be the one orchestrating everything. He’s already proven he has no problem stealing from us. It isn’t a huge leap to think he might want revenge for being fired.”
“You’re right,” Clay sits on the edge of the bed. “I mean we caught him stealing parts from the truck. It figures he’d know where to cut a brake line.”
“He was royally pissed,” Trey concedes. “I could definitely see him cutting the fence, at least. And hell, maybe the brake line, too. I guess we don’t really know how far he’d go.”
I let out a big yawn, and it suddenly hits me that if anything, the nap has actually made me more tired than I was before I laid down.
“You should get some more rest,” Joshua says sternly. “We’ll figure this out. It’s not something you should have to worry about.”
I stifle another yawn, just barely. “I’ll get some more sleep. But only if you guys promise me that you won’t do anything rash.”
They all agree, so after giving them another warning look, I snuggle back down into the bed. One by one, my boys come by to wish me a good night. And I fall asleep, secure in knowing that they are close by.
Chapter 23
Trey
The week after we retrieved Jessa from the hospital passes very peacefully. But I have a hard time relaxing. I’m itching to do something about whoever’s plotting against us, and it distracts me from everything else—even Jessa. Beautiful Jessa, who seems to be thriving under our care. Lovely Jessa, who me and my brothers get more attached to every day she spends with us.
The ranch is on high alert. And it’s not just Joshua, Tyler, Clay, and me. We have everyone on the ranch keeping their eyes peeled.
And nothing happens.
“I have an idea,” Clay says, during a morning meeting with the ranch hands. All of my brothers are present, even Clay and Tyler, who despite having to be up at six-thirty in the morning like they are today, have both shown up. They’re both nursing their coffees, and it doesn’t even look like Tyler has brushed his hair this morning. But they’re here, and conscious.
To their credit, all of the ranch hands look fully alert. Joshua and I are also generally up at dawn, so we’re managing better than Clay and Tyler. And today, even BethAnn is attending the meeting in the barn. She’s brought out a big plate of muffins—in addition to the carafe of coffee she usually keeps filled in this area of the barn. It serves as a breakroom for the guys that don’t feel like coming into the house. Or for the ones who had been working in the mud who BethAnn doesn’t want in the house until they get cleaned up.
There are several tables and chairs set up, along with a couple old couches set along the walls, and fridge in one corner. It smells a little dusty and slightly of cow, but it’s a pretty comfortable spot.
“It might sound a little odd, but bear with me,” Clay adds.
I glance at Clay sharply. He’s the one who set up this meeting, and it seems like he has more than a simple check-in planned.
“And what’s your brilliant idea this early in the damn morning?” Tyler asks, grumpily. He takes another long drink of his coffee, while still managing to glare at Clay the whole time.
All eyes are on Clay, and he clears his throat. “Everyone keeping an eye out was a good idea. But let’s be honest, it doesn’t seem to be working.”
There are murmurs of agreement, and hearing them, Clay continues, “Since keeping our guard obviously up isn’t working, I think we should do the opposite.”
“Keep our eyes shut?” The ranch hand who turned in Griz, Caleb, quips.
Clay makes a semi-rude gesture at him, and everyone laughs. “Basically, yeah.”
“Get on with it, Clay,” I say. But I understand where he’s going with this. And it’s a good idea.
Clay kicks up a little dust from the plank wood floor and crosses his arms. “I think we need to be not looking real hard. Pretend like we’ve given up. Like we believe all this shit that’s been happening was just bad luck.”
“Let t
hem think we put our guard down,” another of the hands, Dylan, adds. “That they’ve got us all fooled.”
“Exactly.” Clay runs his fingers through his hair. “Maybe if we ease up, he’ll let his guard down, too. Do something else that we can catch him at.”
Clay’s idea is a sound one. And at this point, I’m so goddamn frustrated at our lack of progress that I’m willing to try just about anything, so long as it doesn’t put Jessa in any danger.
For the next hour, we work out the details. BethAnn disappears somewhere in the middle to start breakfast, and by the time we’re done talking she’s ready to feed the whole lot of us something heartier than muffins.
The rest of the day is uneventful. I spend most of it out in the range but staying close enough to be there if I’m needed. If I’m honest with myself, I can admit that I’m only going as far as I absolutely have to in order to give Clay’s ruse have a chance of working. And I have to force myself to do that much with Jessa at home. She’s pregnant and on bed rest, and she could be a target of the fucker messing with us. I know it isn’t likely, but I can’t take that risk.
If it’s Griz, he’s going to be sorry.
“So you guys are at the pretending you’ve given up point?” Jessa teases when Tyler and I stop in to visit her for lunch. She’s still on bedrest, so her days are spent either actually in bed in her room or downstairs on one of the big, fluffy couches. Today, she’s in bed and I can see her laptop off to the side. She’s still working off and on, and that worries me. But I guess I have to trust the doctor who has told her that a couple of hours of laptop work, while she’s propped in her bed, won’t do any harm.
“I’m afraid we’ve hit that point,” Tyler says.
The rest of the afternoon would have been blissful if not for the fact that I knew whoever had sent Jessa into bedrest was still out there. Still, I’m swept away by her charm.
We do nothing with the simplest of things. Take turns watching over Jessa, spending time with her. Watching movies, reading books—just being together. It’s almost enough to make me forget that someone is out there with a grudge.