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Shattered

Page 8

by Cora York


  My heart soared, and I was pretty sure I glowed because happiness radiated from every cell in my body. I stood and, careful not to hurt him, pressed soft kisses on his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks and finally his lips.

  I pulled back and brought his hand to my lips, where I brushed kisses all over his fingers. “I love you. More than you can ever imagine.” I gave him a cheeky smile. “You almost killing me was the best thing that could ever have happened in my life.” I kissed his palm. “I love every single part of you and will always love you. You make me braver. Make me feel like I’m not useless, worthless, or pointless. I never thought I’d ever get this lucky.” I grinned. “Now hurry up and get better so you can take me to bed.”

  With a wicked smile, he tugged a tendril of my hair. “That’s why you’re mine.”

  “Always.”

  Dylan

  Thanksgiving dinner had been cleared away, and while the rest of our extended family slept off their food comas in the sitting room, I had some business to discuss with my aunt, uncle, and cousins.

  “You sure about this?” I asked.

  Tricia placed a kiss on baby Kayden’s head, who happily chewed on a plastic giraffe. “We’re sure,” she said. “My boys don’t want the ranch. They all have their own lives away from here. Like Jonah and I said when we came to see you, we’re too long in the tooth for early mornings and endless days. You love this place as much as we do. The horses adore you. Plus,” she said, pausing to place another kiss on the baby’s head, “I need to be close to this little lovebug.”

  I glanced at each of my cousins in turn. “None of you want to take over?”

  They all shook their heads.

  Brooks spoke up first. “I can’t see me moving back from Atlanta any time soon. And if I do, I’m not a rancher. Horses were never my thing.”

  Gunner cleared his throat. “I’m more interested in oil. I’m headed to North Dakota. There’s a piece of land I plan on drilling with my partners.”

  Colt grinned. “I have my hands full with Natalie, Kayden, and the bar. My life’s in Nashville. You’ve always loved horses and the way of life more than any of us ever did or will.”

  Excitement clenched my gut. Owning Whistling Wind Ranch was above anything I’d ever dreamed. I still planned on winning the gold buckle someday, but I also had to think about my future beyond the rodeo. Getting bucked off in Nashville had rattled me more than I cared to admit. Winning was no longer the be-all and end-all it once was.

  I still had a concussion, and my ribs were tender to the touch. I’d suffered multiple contusions to my thighs and chest wall, as well as a liver laceration. The length of time it was taking my body to heal was something I had to take into consideration along with everything else. Like how I wanted to spend the rest of my life with the woman I loved.

  For the longest time, a family and a home life weren’t something I thought I wanted, but now, they were all I thought about. Things can change from one second to the next, and I wanted to spend all the seconds I had left on this earth with Montana.

  After the doctors had discharged me from the hospital, I’d moved into her teeny cabin. She made sure I got enough rest both physically and mentally. The doctors said it could take up to three months, maybe more, for the concussion symptoms to fully vanish.

  The fatigue frustrated the crud out of me. Most days I had to take an afternoon nap like I was sixty-six and not thirty-six. Sometimes I had a touch of tinnitus and blurry eyesight, but I was thankful I hadn’t suffered any memory loss.

  When Mason instructed no physical exertion, Montana took him at his word. I think he purposely told her no sex until he gave the all-clear. Jerk.

  The headaches were the worst, and when one came on, I had to lay in a darkened room for a few hours until it passed. All through it all, Montana had been at my side. I kind of liked her fussing over me like a mother hen.

  A few weeks ago, when she was at her therapy session, Tricia and Jonah sat me down and asked if I was interested in buying the ranch from them. I explained that while I’d be honored to take over, I didn’t have the kind of cash needed to buy the ranch. They said they’d lease me the land until I was in a position to buy.

  I’d wanted to take them up on their offer there and then, but I asked that they clear it with my cousins first. I didn’t want any noses knocked out of joint.

  Kayden started to fuss, and Tricia stood, jiggling him on her hip. “Well, what do you think? We ain’t got all day.”

  “You’d get a hell of a lot more if you put it on the market,” I said. Beneath the table, I jiggled my legs up and down, and I hoped beyond all hope they wouldn’t consider doing that.

  Jonah waved my concerns away. “I don’t want some stranger taking over my ranch. Keeping it in the family is all that matters.”

  I stood, smiled, and held out my hand. “I think you have yourselves a deal.” Jonah hit his palm against mine. “We couldn’t be happier, son.”

  “Right there with you,” I said, pride surging in my chest.

  My cousins all stood, pumped my hand, and slapped me on the back.

  Feeling on top of the world, I walked outside and found Montana sitting on the porch steps with Colt’s wife, Natalie.

  Natalie strummed her guitar while Montana furiously wrote on her notepad.

  “Mind if I steal you away?” I asked.

  Montana glanced up, fierce concentration lining her face. “Two seconds, I don’t want to lose this thought.” She scribbled down something indecipherable then tapped her pen against her lower lip. “I was thinking this for the top of the second verse.”

  Natalie rolled her lips between her teeth then pursed them before nodding. “I can work with that.”

  “I’m all yours, cowboy.” Montana hooked her arm through mine, and we strolled toward the paddock.

  Sampson and Winston were busy playfighting with each other by exchanging nips and nibbles to each other’s faces.

  “What did Tricia want to talk to you about?”

  “Nothing much.” I hadn’t shared my aunt and uncle’s offer with her because I hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up.

  She’d suspected they wanted to sell up and was worried about having to move. She even said she would offer to buy the ranch if it came to it, but she doubted they would sell to anyone who wasn’t family.

  “You and Natalie seem to be getting along.”

  “We are. She’s so talented. I feel bad at how jealous I was of her. She’s helping me finish the song I was working on. Next week, I’m thinking about going to Nashville to meet her manager.”

  “You planning on making a comeback?”

  “Baby steps. Just dipping my toes in.”

  “I’m happy for you.” I placed a kiss on her forehead and inhaled the citrusy scent of her perfume. “I’m happy you don’t feel the need to Google yourself a million times a day. I’m happy you’re getting help. Most of all I’m happy you’re mine.”

  “You know what makes me happy?” she asked, hooking her arms around my neck.

  “Tell me.”

  “Being here with you. Waking up with you. Kissing you.”

  I grinned. “I know something that’ll make you even happier.”

  She shook her head, her hair bouncing all over her shoulders. “Not possible.”

  “How would you like to spend the rest of your life here with me?”

  Hope filled her eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying Tricia and Jonah asked if I’d like to buy the ranch.”

  She hugged me tight and gave a delighted squeal. “You said yes, right?”

  “I said yes. And I’m hoping you’ll say yes too.” Last night, I’d asked my mom if I could have Grandma’s ring. She’d wholeheartedly agreed, and she was the only one who knew I’d planned to pop the question today. I took the antique box from the back pocket of my jeans and got down on one knee. “Marry me. I can’t imagine a day without you or your special kind of crazy.”

  He
r hands flew to her mouth, and she squeaked in surprise. “Oh. My. God. Yes. A million times, yes.” She held out her shaking hand, and I slid the ring onto her finger.

  “Perfect fit.”

  “We are, aren’t we?” Tears dotted her eyelashes, and a blush covered her cheeks.

  I stood and picked her up, swinging her around and around. When I set her down again, we were both dizzy and out of breath. Elation filled me to bursting. I had a ranch of my own and a woman I loved by my side.

  “I love you, Dylan Willows.”

  “And I love you, Montana Chambers.” I lowered my lips to her and kissed her like it was the very first time.

  “What’s all the racket?” Tricia called, interrupting us and making us break apart. “I can hear you the whole way up to the house.” I looked over my shoulder and saw her along with the rest of the family coming our way.

  Montana grinned and held up her finger. “Dylan asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

  Tricia gave a toothy grin and nodded. “I knew.”

  “How’d you know?” I asked, not really surprised or minding.

  “We all knew,” Jonah supplied. “You should know your mom can’t hold her piss. Her and your aunt were going on and on for hours about wedding plans last night.”

  My cousins, sisters, and brothers whooped and hollered, my mom cried, and my aunt pulled me into a bear hug. “You picked a good one, baby boy.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  She let me go, and I took my fiancée’s hand in mine.

  We were two imperfect people who were perfect for each other.

  Epilogue

  Montana

  Talk about a rollercoaster ride.

  The past year and a bit had been a series of ups and downs. The biggest up had been marrying Dylan. The biggest down was me falling off the wagon.

  After I’d signed a new record deal, I’d taken a sip of champagne to celebrate. Big mistake. I’d been high on life and figured since I attended therapy every week and had a man I loved by my side, I could handle it.

  Nope.

  One bubbly sip became two, which became three, which then became a full bottle. Thankfully, I hadn’t done anything stupid or newsworthy.

  Dylan picked up the pieces, and after a come-to-Jesus moment when I realized I couldn’t do it alone, I checked into rehab. They provided me with coping mechanisms to use when my willpower weakened.

  The devil on my shoulder still sniffed around, but I knew how to gag him when he got too vocal.

  It’d been eight months, three days, five hours and six minutes since I last had a drink, and it’d been a long time since I last thought about getting shit-faced, black-out, don’t-remember-a-damn-thing drunk.

  In four months, I would become a mom, and the little lady growing in my tummy was all the encouragement I needed to stay dry.

  There was no getting away from it, I’d carry my addiction for the rest of my life. I was an alcoholic—albeit a currently sober one.

  When I’d gotten out of rehab, I’d given my first interview since before the poster-ripping episode to Gayle King. She’d been kind but tough.

  Speaking out about my struggles helped others like me, and gave me a new audience, which helped make me a crossover success.

  The song Natalie and I had written reached number one a few weeks ago in both the country and pop charts.

  “It’s time, princess,” Tricia said.

  “I don’t think I can watch him do this.” I closed my eyes and wrapped my hands around my stomach. “What if he falls? What if he dies?” My breath hitched. “I can’t have our baby grow up without a daddy.”

  Tricia rolled her eyes in the way only she could. “Stop exaggerating. He’s busted his ass to get here. You know he wouldn’t have rested until he proved he could. Your anxiety won’t change anything, and it’s not good for the baby.”

  From the start of the season, Dylan had competed in every rodeo he could register for and had won almost every event. No concussions, broken bones, or damaged organs. I’d been fine all those other times, but this was the ride that kept me awake all last night.

  He’d come into the world finals at number one and sixteen hundred points in the lead, but he’d been bucked off in rounds four and five, so it all came down to tonight’s fifteen-man final round.

  “I know. I know, but that won’t stop me from worrying.”

  She patted my hand in reassurance. “Mason is with him. Tyler is there too. Have faith.”

  I followed Tricia into the area reserved for our family.

  No one sat; they were all too nervous. His mom and his sisters held hands while his brothers and cousins jiggled their feet and made stupid jokes in an attempt to ease the tension.

  Eminem’s Lose Yourself pumped from the speakers, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.

  My heart felt like it had crept up from my chest to my throat.

  Dylan was in the chute with a helmet firmly on his head. He placed his foot on the bull’s back—Satan’s Little Helper—the beast who’d caused the concussion last year.

  The gate slammed open, and the bull charged out.

  One...

  Two...

  Three...

  Four...

  Five...

  Six...

  Seven…

  Eight...

  The arena erupted. He jumped off the bull, looked in our direction and waved.

  He’d done it.

  Bone shaking relief pushed me into my seat.

  I held my breath waiting for the score, but his face said what we all already knew. He’d won the gold buckle.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said, his voice booming through the speakers. “Dylan Willows, our new PBR World Champion.”

  Fireworks blasted. Music blared, and Dylan pulled off his helmet and threw it to one side.

  He took the microphone from the commentator, Fitzroy Evans—a three-time world champion—who was now by his side and looked up to the sky.

  “I did it, Dad,” he said, his voice breaking. “I did it for you.”

  I hadn’t thought it was possible to love him any more than I already did, but in that moment, he stole my heart all over again. I draped an arm over his mom’s shoulder, who was dabbing her eyes, and hugged her close.

  Fitzroy nodded in empathy. “I bet he’s looking down at you and smiling. How you feeling?”

  “On top of the world,” Dylan replied, sounding out of breath.

  “After your fall last year in Nashville on the same bull, did you have something to prove?”

  “Yes, sir. I wanted to prove to myself that wearing a helmet had no bearing on how I rode. Also wanted to prove to myself I could win, but this win wasn’t for me, it was for my dad.” His lip trembled, but he didn’t allow himself to breakdown.

  “Do you have anything you want to say to everyone watching?”

  Dylan took a second to regain his composure. “No matter how many times life knocks you down, bucks you off, or kicks you in the chest, pick yourself up and keep trying. Never give up.”

  “Wise words,” Fitzroy said and grinned. “What’s next for you?”

  “Glad you asked. I got married a while back and have a baby on the way. It’s time for me to hang up my spurs and focus on other things like training horses and being the best daddy and husband in the world.”

  My heart stilled. He hadn’t told me he’d planned on announcing his retirement. Retiring from the circuit wasn’t something I’d ever ask him to do. I would’ve supported him if he wanted to ride for the rest of his life, but at the same time, I felt thankful I’d never have to worry about him cracking his head open or getting trampled to death.

  When his interview was over and the awards ceremony complete, I rushed to the locker room, and the second I saw him, I flung my arms around his neck and held him tight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He stroked his hands through my hair. “Until the words came out of my mouth, I didn’t know. They were as
much of a shock to me as they were to everyone else. I’ve achieved all I want to achieve in this chapter of my life. Now it’s time to move on and focus on you and our baby.” He stepped back and rubbed a hand over my bump. “I want to be there for both of you. I don’t want you fretting or worrying I’m going to get hurt.”

  “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

  “Only every day, but I can’t say I mind hearing the words.”

  “I. Love. You,” I said, punctuating every word with a kiss.

  There wasn’t a luckier woman alive. He was my lover, my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the only person who could talk me out of the rabbit hole I often went down or off the ledge I often climbed on.

  His smiling lips met mine, and he kissed me in a way that told me we’d be together forever. “Let’s go home and shut out the rest of the world for a while.”

  “I can’t think of anything that sounds better, cowboy.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Cora York adores steamy stories about sassy women and the sexy men who push them to their limit. But, these days, thanks her job as a full-time domestic goddess and kid-chauffeur, she no longer has the luxury of sitting down to read full-length romance novels. To get her fix, she created Quick Reads for Fast Lives—all the romance in a fraction of the time.

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