His brother held up a finger. “But there are ground rules, Dev, and if you break them, there are no second chances.”
In the past, Devin would’ve brushed aside the bit about the rules. Ground rules were for boring people who didn’t have any fun. Now, Devin was clinging to the rules by his fingernails, just to hold on to his sobriety. He asked Tanner quietly, “What do you want me to do?”
“One. You go to meetings every day. Two. You always tell me where you’re going to be. Three. There are no rock stars at Triple Creek Ranch. You pull your own weight.”
It didn’t sound like much but Devin knew from experience that pulling his weight around the ranch was a full-time job. Working the farm was going to be hard with his injury but it wouldn’t be impossible.
He could promise Tanner that he was different, that he’d matured past the kid who’d looked for approval in all the wrong places, but promises didn’t mean much. He wanted more than anything to prove to his brother that he could change. To prove to himself that he could be more than just some rodeo guy who partied a lot and nearly got himself killed. He said quietly, “Thanks, Tanner.”
“Don’t make me regret this, Devin.” The man who’d started raising Devin when he was still practically a boy himself had a world of disappointment in his eyes. He jerked a thumb at the stairs. “You can have your old room.”
Devin nodded. He pushed back from the table and limped onto the porch of the farmhouse. He’d run far and fast away from here when he’d turned eighteen, too big for these parts. Maybe it was fitting that when there was nothing left of him, he ran home. If he was lucky, maybe it was here that he’d find all the pieces of himself he’d lost along the way.
Two months later
Lacey Jenkins checked her GPS one last time as she drove through Red Hill Springs, Alabama. The flower boxes that lined the street were filled with geraniums, and American flags on the lampposts fluttered in the wind. All decked out for the upcoming Memorial Day holiday, the town was adorable, but she wasn’t having it. She’d been stewing for three and a half months now, ever since she’d woken up alone in a hotel room in Vegas, ink barely dry on a quickie marriage certificate proclaiming her married to rodeo superstar Devin Cole.
She should’ve listened to the voice of warning in her head—the one that sounded strangely like her dad, coaching her around the barrels when she was a kid. “Ride from here, Lacey-girl,” he’d say, as he tapped his forehead under the brim of his cowboy hat. “Not from here” as he tapped his heart. “The heart will betray you. The head will lead you.” But she’d been caught up in the adventure of it all. The romance. She and Devin had been friends—best friends—for years, even as he seemed to get more and more reckless. That weekend in Vegas after the rodeo competition ended, he’d seemed more like his old self. Sweeter and more thoughtful than he’d been in a while.
Until he’d disappeared the morning after they’d gotten married. And then, a month later, he’d had the nerve to drop off his horse for her like some kind of consolation prize.
So yeah, if she’d been mad before, now she was boiling. He’d left her and he’d left his horse.
Her GPS calmly announced that she’d arrived at her destination. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, a fact she noted with some irritation. She was a world champion barrel racer. She was supposed to be immune to nerves.
Turning into the drive at the farmhouse, she slowed to look around. She had the right address, but this didn’t look anything like the bustling ranch she’d imagined as Devin had talked about it back when they were still friends. But still, there was a sunny yellow swing on the front porch with a fresh coat of paint and brightly colored zinnias filling the flower beds in front of the house.
She eased her truck to a stop so Reggie wouldn’t be jostled. The big horse had been patient for the duration of the long trip, but he had to be as antsy as she was to get out of the truck after days on the road. She stepped out onto the gravel drive, pressing a hand into her lower back and leaning into a stretch.
It had taken her a full two days to get here, and once she set a few things straight with Devin, she’d be turning right around to go back.
Lacey reached for a file of papers she’d left on the passenger side of the truck, and when she turned back around she was eye level with three sets of well-worn boots. Her gaze skimmed the length of long denim-clad legs and stalled out at the world champion rodeo buckle at the waist of the jeans on the right before continuing upward to meet three identical sets of dark brown eyes.
She gulped. The Cole brothers were unilaterally staring at her, and to be honest, it was a little bit intimidating. But at least she knew she was in the right place.
Lacey flicked a glance at the one standing on the left side of Devin—the oldest brother, Tanner, she thought—and saw his unsmiling eyes travel from her to Devin and back again. Dark hair curled underneath a faded red ball cap. He settled it a little farther on his head and continued to stare at her.
She swallowed hard as her vision grayed around the edges. Wow. She must be more tired than she thought she was.
“Lacey? What are you doing here?” Devin’s words sliced through her exhaustion and, despite girding herself with all that anger, they still had the power to hurt her.
She looked Devin Cole right in the eyes and said, “I want a divorce.”
The color drained from Devin’s face, and she felt a perverse pleasure that she’d managed to shock him.
“Divorce?” The other brother’s head snapped straight. “You’re married?”
Devin remained unnaturally still.
“I’ll just unload Reggie, then.” Tanner shifted away as if the tension strung between Lacey and Devin would snap under the pressure. He clambered down from the porch and lowered the back of the trailer. She could hear his voice as he spoke softly to Devin’s cutting horse, backing him gently down the ramp.
Devin’s gaze never broke with Lacey’s, but he said, “Garrett, feel free to move along anytime.”
The middle brother, with a mop of unruly dark curls and studious-looking glasses, shook his head. “Nope. Uh-uh. Sounds like you need legal representation. I’m not going anywhere.” He grinned. “Plus, I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
Lacey refused to be the first one to look away. But her head was spinning again, her husband’s handsome, serious face swimming before her eyes. She groped blindly behind her for the side of the truck, her file of papers slipping from her fingers to scatter on the ground.
The last thing she saw before she crumpled was the fear on Devin’s face as he dropped his cane and leaped down the stairs, his strong arms scooping her up just before she hit the ground.
* * *
Devin lifted Lacey into his arms, concern for her blocking out all other thoughts. “Garrett, get a doctor out here.”
“Want me to call an ambulance?”
“No, she’s terrified of hospitals. Just call someone. Please?” Devin carried Lacey up the porch steps. He managed to pull the screen door slightly ajar and kick it open. Her face was pale—too pale—against the dark shine of her hair.
He laid her gently on the wide leather couch, heart thudding in his chest. “Lace? Come on, girl, you gotta wake up. You’re scaring me.”
Just when he thought he’d made peace with the things he’d done when he was using, she showed up with this gem. Married?
He didn’t really question what he’d been thinking, but what had she been thinking marrying him? The last thing Lacey needed was to be married to a washed-up rodeo cowboy with a drug-addiction problem.
Especially one who didn’t even remember their wedding even happened.
Of all the stupid things he’d done that he didn’t remember, destroying his relationship with Lacey was the worst. She was the best thing that ever happened to him and he’d screwed it up, along with the rest of his life.
Bu
t marriage? He couldn’t even fathom it.
“Come on, Lacey, wake up. I know you still have a few things to say to me.”
Garrett stepped quietly in the door, his cell phone and a bunch of papers in his hand. “Ash Sheehan is on his way.”
Devin stabbed his fingers into his hair, worry settling into his shoulders like thousand-pound weights. “Isn’t he a kids’ doctor?”
“Yeah. He’s also the only doctor in town. We can take her to the hospital, Dev. It’s probably what Ash is going to tell us to do anyway.”
“I can’t.” Devin dropped on the coffee table in front of the couch, his ruined ankle aching now that the adrenaline had faded. He studied Lacey’s still form on the couch. Color was slowly returning to her face. “She’d kill me.”
“She dropped these when she fainted.” Garrett slid the papers onto the table beside Devin and placed his cane within easy reach. “Tanner’s getting Reggie settled. I’m gonna go make some coffee. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”
Garrett disappeared into the kitchen, and Devin glanced down at the papers.
There was a legal-looking stack, which he assumed was the divorce papers she wanted him to sign. He picked them up and glanced at the first paragraph before tossing them aside. As he did, another piece of paper fluttered to the ground. He leaned over and picked up the flimsy grainy black-and-white photo.
His skin went clammy.
He knew what this was. It was a still from an ultrasound. And this one had two arrows pointing at two tiny peanut-shaped blobs. He dropped the photo like it was on fire.
Was Lacey pregnant?
Copyright © 2019 by Stephanie Newton
ISBN-13: 9781488043017
A Rancher to Remember
Copyright © 2019 by Patricia Johns
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A Rancher To Remember (Montana Twins Book 3) Page 20