Rising to his feet, Holt said, “Hi, sis. This is a nice surprise.”
Chandler rose, too, and both brothers kissed their sister’s cheek.
“Did you forget and think you still lived here at Three Rivers?” Chandler teased.
Vivian chuckled. “No. Pregnancy hasn’t confused the navigation system in my head. I do still remember east from west.”
“Sit down and I’ll make you something to drink,” Holt told her. “Take the chair by the fire. It’s cold out this evening.”
“Just a bit of sparkling water or juice,” she told him as she sank into the wingback chair. “I can’t stay long.”
While Holt went to a small bar in the corner of the room to get the drink, Chandler’s phone began to buzz.
“You two are going to have to excuse me,” he said as he scanned the message. “Roslyn needs me upstairs. Evelyn is throwing one of her fits. The little diva never wants to get out of the bathtub.”
“Tell me about it,” Vivian said with a laugh. “I have a fourteen-year-old diva.”
“Bah!” Holt said as he handed her a small glass of orange juice. “Hannah has never been spoiled. Well, there might’ve been a few occasions when I spoiled her a little.”
“You certainly did—letting her ride those wild two-year-olds when I wasn’t looking. It’s a wonder she didn’t break every bone in her body!”
He eased down in the matching chair across from her and took a long sip of his drink. It was the second one he’d had this evening, and since he’d not eaten anything but a few bites of gooseberry pie early this morning, his stomach was more than empty. Now the bourbon was going straight to his head. Thank God. He didn’t want to have to think. Not about anything.
Vivian watched Chandler leave the room, then glanced over at Holt. She didn’t appear to be in a happy mood, but he smiled at her anyway.
“That belly of yours is getting enormous,” he told her. “Makes you look real pretty.”
She eyed his half-full glass. “How much of that bourbon have you had this evening?”
“Not enough,” he muttered.
She grimaced. “Aren’t you wondering why I’m here?”
He shrugged. “I figured you came to see Mom. She’s not made it in yet. She and Blake went up to check out some of the Prescott ranges.”
She took a sip of the juice. “I know. She texted me.”
“Oh.” He darted a glance at her. “Then why are you here?”
“Because Mom and Chandler told me you looked like hell and I wanted to see if they were right.”
His jaw tight, he stared into the fire. “Were they?”
“No. They were wrong. You look worse. What are you doing? Trying to commit a slow suicide?”
“I’m not trying to do anything,” he lied. “I’ve just gone back to being good ole Holt. You know, the one that changes women as often as he changes wet saddle blankets.”
“Don’t try to play cool with me. I may not live in this house anymore, but I hear what goes on. And I hear you’ve been staying out late every night, dating one woman after another. Are you actually enjoying this marathon you’re putting yourself through?”
He rose from the chair and stood on the hearth with his back to the fire. After swigging down a good portion of his drink, he said, “It’s nice that you’ve always thought of yourself as my little mother, Viv. But in this case, I don’t need your mothering. There’s nothing wrong.”
She snorted. “Don’t try to give me any of your bologna. It won’t work. And you might as well down the rest of that drink. Because you’re going to need it after you hear what I have to say!”
He frowned at her. “I have a date tonight. In fact, I should be getting ready to leave right now. I don’t have time for a lecture from my big sister.”
“Cancel the date. You’re not going anywhere.”
The stern resolution on her pretty face got to him more than anything she’d said and he suddenly bent his head and closed his eyes against the onslaught of pain hitting his from every direction. Of the whole Hollister family, Vivian had always loved him the most. Just as Isabelle had loved him.
Oh, yes, he could admit that to himself now. Even if she hadn’t so much as spoken the words to him, he’d known it and felt it in his heart. He’d just not wanted to acknowledge her feelings or think about what any of it meant to him. Now he could only wonder if he’d thrown away the most precious gift he could’ve ever been given.
Vivian’s hand suddenly rested on his arm and he looked up to see she’d joined him on the hearth.
“Why did you let this breakup with Isabelle happen? And don’t try to tell me your relationship with her was nothing. I can see how much you’re hurting.”
He groaned. “I didn’t let it happen, Viv. She’s the one who ended things.”
“No. You did. Because you couldn’t be honest with her. You couldn’t tell her that you loved her or wanted to be with her for the rest of your life. No, that would have taken some guts. Courage that you don’t seem to have.”
He scowled at her. “What do you know about it?”
“Ha! You ask me that after all I’ve been through? Think about it, Holt. Before I met Sawyer, he was a known ladies’ man. I didn’t trust him any farther than I could throw him. Plus, he was just like you. He didn’t believe he could ever be a husband or father.”
Holt looked at her as he remembered back to those days when Vivian had been agonizing over falling in love with the wrong man, or so she’d believed. “I called you a ’fraidy cat back then,” he recalled. “I told you that if you really loved Sawyer you needed to hold on to him and never let go.”
She smiled. “That’s right. Imagine me taking love advice from my tomcat brother. But I did. And because I did, I learned real love has a way of taking away all those doubts and fears we have. If you let yourself grab hold of Isabelle and never let go, you’ll learn that, too.”
He scrubbed a hand over his haggard face. He had to find the guts to face Isabelle again, to tell her exactly how he felt about her. Otherwise, his life was going to be a big black hole. “She doesn’t want me in her life. Not now.”
“Since when would you let something like that stop you? Don’t you think you can change her mind?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Maybe Holt Hollister has lost his mojo.”
Laughing now, Vivian leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’ll never lose that, little brother.”
* * *
The next morning, Isabelle tethered the brown mares beneath the tin overhang of the barn and began the chore of grooming them. Since there’d been a sprinkle of rain sometime during the night, the horses had enjoyed a roll in the damp dirt. Now dust flew as Isabelle moved the brush over the mare’s back.
She’d never intended to keep the pair. She’d even loaded them in the trailer and had Ollie and Sol drive them over to Three Rivers Ranch. But they’d come back with the two mares and told her that Holt had refused to take them. After that, Isabelle had decided not to worry about the matter. If he wanted the mares, he knew where they were. He could send some of his hands to collect them.
“Need some help?”
Isabelle looked around to see Ollie walking up near the mare’s hip. Sol was a step behind him.
“No. I got this.” She continued to brush down the horse’s shoulder. “It’s Saturday. Aren’t you guys going into town for coffee at the Broken Spur? There might be some single women hanging around just waiting to join you.”
“We’re going.” Sol spoke up. “But we don’t expect to see any women.”
“Don’t ever say never, Sol,” Ollie told his buddy. “We might get lucky one of these days.”
Isabelle glanced up just in time to see Sol frowning at Ollie and making a motion toward her. From the sheepish looks on their faces, she decided they wanted to discuss
something with her but felt awkward about it.
“What’s up, you two? Is there something you want to talk to me about? Are you needing a raise in salary?”
“Oh, no, Isabelle. We’re making more than enough money,” Sol was quick to answer.
“We don’t need money,” Ollie added. “You just forget about that, Isabelle.”
She didn’t see how the men could consider the meager amount of salary she paid them as plenty, but for now it was the best she could do. Later, when the ranch began to actually take in money, she’d do her best to give them a substantial raise. “Okay. Then what’s on your mind?”
“We’re wondering about Holt,” Ollie answered. “He hasn’t been here for a while. And when we hauled the mares over to Three Rivers, he wasn’t exactly a happy camper. Did you two have a falling-out or something?”
Isabelle bit down on her bottom lip to stem the tears that burned her eyes. “Uh—I guess you could put it that way. I’m not seeing Holt anymore. I decided he—wasn’t the right guy for me.”
Sol exchanged a guarded look with Ollie. “We thought—To be honest, we didn’t much think Holt was the right guy for you. But you were happy when he was coming around. You’re not happy now.”
It was all Isabelle could do to keep from bursting into tears. These past two weeks since she’d parted ways with Holt, she’d never hurt so badly or felt so empty inside.
“For a while there I was mixed up. I thought Holt was the right guy for me. But you two know Holt. He’s not the marrying kind. And I want—well, I want more than just a boyfriend.”
Ollie said, “Isabelle, if you’re letting gossip about Holt sway your thinking, then you’re messing up. Sure, he’s been a bachelor for a long time, but he’s a good man. Better than you probably even know.”
Sol cleared his throat and frowned at Ollie. “It might take some doing, but me and Ollie figure if anybody can settle his roaming ways, it’d be you.”
“That’s right,” Ollie added with a nod of his head. “If you care anything about him, you ought to go after him. You don’t want some undeserving gal to snatch him up.”
Isabelle pulled a tissue from the pocket on her jacket and dabbed her misty eyes. “Oh, guys, this doesn’t have anything to do with gossip. I’ve been married once and that man didn’t love me. I, uh, don’t want to get into that again.”
Ollie gave her a kindly smile while Sol patted her shoulder.
“We just want you to be happy,” Ollie said.
“Yeah, that’s what we want,” Sol added. “So you think about what we said, Isabelle.”
The two men must have decided they’d talked enough. Sol mumbled that they’d see her later and the two of them walked off. Moments later, she heard them climb into their truck and drive away.
Isabelle thoughtfully went back to grooming the mares, but all the while she brushed and curried, her mind was replaying everything she’d said to Holt and everything he’d said to her that last day she’d seen him at Three Rivers. The whole scene was like watching the world crumble around her.
He’d accused her of living with her head in the clouds, of fantasizing of a prince coming to make her life perfect. Was Holt right? Was she guilty of wanting too much from him? Expecting too much from the brief time they’d been together?
With Trevor, she’d waited for more than two years, hoping his feelings for her would turn into real love. It hadn’t happened. She’d accused Holt of being just like her ex, incapable of giving his heart. But she’d flung those words at him out of hurt and frustration.
Holt wasn’t like Trevor. He wasn’t like any man she’d ever known. He was incredibly special. He was everything she’d ever wanted and she loved him. Now that she’d found him, she couldn’t give up and let him slip away.
But would he be willing to try again? She wouldn’t know the answer to that until she faced him and laid her heart out for him to see.
Determination fueling her, Isabelle quickly finished the grooming chore, then released the mares into a nearby paddock. As she hurried to the house, she decided not to text or call him. No. Better to catch him off guard, she thought, than to give him a chance to run from her.
Inside the house, she went straight to her bedroom closet and began searching through the hangered clothes for something suitable to wear. She needed something feminine. Something that would make her look irresistible to him.
No, she thought suddenly. She shut the closet door and walked over to the dresser mirror. The image staring back at her was a woman dressed for the job she loved. This Isabelle, in her jeans, yellow shirt, and dusty boots, was the essence of who she was and what she wanted. If Holt couldn’t love her like this, then she truly needed to put him behind her once and for all.
With that decision made, she went back to the kitchen to collect her handbag and truck keys.
And then she heard it. The rattling sound of a stock trailer coming down the long driveway.
Who on earth could that be? Ollie and Sol hadn’t taken a trailer with them. And it couldn’t be a horse buyer. It would be a year or more before she began advertising Blue Stallion Ranch.
Deciding someone had taken the wrong backroad and was lost, she exited the front of the house and from the edge of the porch, peered out at the vehicle that was rolling to a gentle stop.
Oh! Oh, my! It was Holt’s truck and an expensive-looking horse van hooked to it.
Her heart racing wildly, she watched him climb down from the cab and start toward the house. The moment he spotted her, he paused briefly, then continued striding toward her.
Fearful and hopeful at the same time, Isabelle stepped off the porch and began walking toward him, until the two of them met just inside the yard gate.
“Hello, Holt,” she said, relieved that she’d managed to squeeze the words past her tight throat. “Are you here to collect your brown mares?”
The expression on his face was unlike anything she’d seen on him before. It was rueful and pleading and so raw that it made her ache just to look at him.
“Those aren’t my mares,” he said huskily. “Those are yours and ours—together. Remember? We’re partners.”
Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. “Are we?”
Groaning, he reached for her and Isabelle fell willingly into his arms. His face buried itself in the curve of her neck and she wrapped her arms tightly around him.
“Isabelle. My darling, Isabelle,” he said hoarsely. “Will you forgive me for being a blind, stubborn fool?”
She let out a sob of joy. “I’m the one who should be asking for forgiveness. I’m the one who broke us apart. But only because—”
He eased his head back and looked deeply into her eyes. “We both know that everything you said that day in my office was true. That’s why it made me so angry. For years, my family warned me that one day I’d find my match and fall in love. I didn’t believe them. Until you forced me to see how empty my life would be without you. I love you, Isabelle. More than you can ever know.”
Holt didn’t just want her. He loved her! The knowledge caused something to burst inside her and send sweet, warm contentment flowing into her heart.
“Oh, Holt, I love you so much. But I was afraid to tell you. Afraid you didn’t want to hear it.”
“I didn’t want to hear it,” he admitted, “because it would’ve forced me to examine my own feelings.” Smiling, he pressed his cheek against hers. “But I want to hear it now, Isabelle. Every day. For the rest of our lives.”
She was trying to take in the wonder of those words when, a few feet behind them, a loud whinny sounded from inside the horse trailer. Across the way, the freshly groomed brown mares answered the call.
Isabelle eased out of his arms and looked at the horse van. The side windows were closed, blocking any view of the interior, but the subtle rocking movements told her a horse was
inside.
Her gaze slipped back to Holt. “You brought a horse with you?”
Grinning, he caught her by the hand and led her out to the truck and trailer. “Not just any horse,” he said, then with a hand on her arm, carefully guided her to a safe spot. “Let me show you.”
A minute later, Isabelle stared in stunned disbelief as he backed the blue roan stallion down the loading ramp and onto the ground. “That’s Blue Midnight! What is he doing here?”
His expression full of love and tenderness, Holt handed the horse’s lead rope over to Isabelle. “He’s yours now. He’s going to make Blue Stallion Ranch more than just your dream, Isabelle. He’s going to help turn this place into a prosperous horse farm for you—for us. That is, if you want me here with you.”
“As my partner?” she asked.
“Your partner, lover, husband, and father of your children. Anything you want me to be,” he told her, then with a big grin, added, “As long as I don’t have to sleep in the bunkroom with Ollie and Sol.”
“You want us to be married? But what about those strings you never wanted? What about your job at Three Rivers?”
She barely got the question out when Blue Midnight nudged her in the back and propelled her right into Holt’s loving arms.
His hands cupped her face. “You can throw a lariat on me if you want—just as long as we’re together. As for my managing the horse division at Three Rivers, I can still do that and help you, too. My family has been telling me to hire more trainers to ease my workload. The time has come for me to follow their advice.” He brought his lips next to hers. “I want Blue Stallion Ranch to be my home—our home. Together.”
“Oh, Holt, I’m so glad you’ve come home to Blue Stallion Ranch.”
He closed the tiny distance between their lips and as he gave her a kiss full of promises, Blue Midnight looked over at the brown mares and whinnied a promise of his own.
Epilogue
“You know, roses are delicate and romantic. Most women like having a garden of roses in their backyard,” Holt said as he peered down at Isabelle who was on her hands and knees, carefully planting a large barrel cactus. “But no, you want a garden of tough, thorny cacti.”
Home to Blue Stallion Ranch Page 18