Shelter

by Jay Crownover

  I’d had no idea that both Sutton and Daye were going to fall in love with California when we came to see my parents all those months ago. Sutton and my dad immediately hit it off. I think my parents loved him before I brought him to meet them because he was the reason I had the strength to finally come home. He held my hand while I told them everything I’d been through. My mom cried for me and my dad gave me a hug and told me he was proud of me. Proud I survived and proud I got something as great as the loves of my life out of such a horrific experience. My mother mentioned that she knew I would eventually find what I needed to be whole, and she couldn’t be any more thrilled that he came with a precious little girl. She was already in full-on grandma mode and Daye couldn’t get enough of the doting attention.

  Our visit turned from two weeks into three and then into four. When it became clear we all were hesitant to move on or return back to Wyoming, my dad suggested that we look at the job market in the area. Sutton scoffed and replied that all he knew how to do was ranch and ride. My dad gave him a patient grin and informed him that California had a booming equine industry. Sure enough, within a week, Sutton found a ranch right outside of Sacramento that was looking for a horse trainer for their equine therapy program. The center focused on using horses to help autistic children, adults, veterans, and victims of abuse across all ages. Their previous foreman had retired and they were looking to fill the position as soon as possible. If the owner hadn’t been immediately taken with Sutton during their initial interview, he would have been offered the job the second he brought Daye in for one of the sessions.

  She hadn’t been sleeping well, panicked when Sutton was out of her sight for more than a second, and had been suffering from wild mood swings that neither Sutton nor I could help her manage. She’s been through so much and we both knew she needed more help than we could provide. Since she was already comfortable on a horse, it was a natural progression to see if the equine therapy worked for her. She went once a week and saw a woman Sutton seemed to adore. She rode a horse he picked out specifically for her, and when they got home from the session, I could see relief emanating from both father and daughter.

  The center also gave Sutton a place to turn when he started questioning whether or not he was enough. Instead of finding the closest bar and letting himself get caught up in the torrent of his doubt, he had someone to talk to, a safe place to admit that he didn’t feel like he was a good enough father, partner, brother . . . a good enough man. Luckily, he was slowly starting to see the only expectations he wasn’t living up to were his own. The rest of us would take him any way we could get him.

  It was obvious before we left Wyoming that our less-than-stellar track record with birth control had led to a mostly unplanned—but not at all surprising—pregnancy. I waited for Sutton to freak out about the added complication to our uncertain future, but he never wavered in his commitment to stay by my side through whatever we had to face. Daye hadn’t taken the news that great when we sat her down to tell her our family was growing. She was used to being the baby and liked having all the adults in her life focused solely on her. Luckily, Cyrus had proposed to Leo right before we left for Sacramento, and after we all cried when she said yes, she promised Daye that she could be her flower girl. The little girl was thrilled with the idea of having such an important job, and the idea of a poofy, fancy dress just cemented her excitement. The baby was basically forgotten after that.

  Now that I was starting to show, she seemed more interested and was asking more questions. Sometimes she would put both her hands on the little bump and talk to the baby. She told him that she would teach him how to tie his shoes and how to ride a horse. She told him stories about her dad and whispered that she would sneak him cookies after dinner even when Daddy said no more. She seemed to like the idea we were having a little boy because she wouldn’t have to share her toys or her clothes. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that wasn’t how things worked.

  All in all, we settled into a new place without too much hassle. Who would have ever thought the place I would end up was where I started? We rented a house and were looking at building one on a piece of property my dad had found just outside the city. As soon as I had the baby and we had a permanent place to call our own, I was going to go back to work. I’d always been great at managing people in the workplace, but now I wanted to focus on helping people find the career they really wanted. As someone who had lacked passion for most of her life, I wanted to point others in the direction of something that would fulfill them rather than just sustain them.

  Turning to Lane, I had to ask, “Can you afford to be gone right now? Doesn’t Cy need you?” I wanted to ask him about Brynn, but I figured he couldn’t admit to me why he was really here; maybe he hadn’t admitted it to himself yet.

  Lane shook his dark head and leaned back on the couch cushions so he was looking up at the ceiling. “He’s got a whole staff now. That place is running like a well-oiled machine. Sometimes I wonder if he needs me at all. Webb knows as much as I do now. If he wasn’t such a pain in the ass, I think Cy would promote him to foreman.”

  I gave him a hard look and told him flatly, “Webb isn’t family.”

  He heaved a sigh that sounded both sad and weary. “I needed a break, some time to clear my head. Leo and Cy are caught up in wedding fever. Brynn is hardly around anymore. Sutton has a whole new family and is halfway across the country. Things changed so much in six months and some days I don’t feel like I can keep up. I feel like I’m falling behind everyone who matters to me.”

  I made my way over to the couch and lowered myself next to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and he immediately wrapped an arm around me. “There is one thing about you Warners that will never change, Lane. You might be moving at different speeds and in different directions but you will never leave each other behind. No one is going anywhere without you, handsome.”

  He sighed again and gave me a one-armed hug. “I missed you, Em.”

  The quiet contemplation was shattered when the front door was thrown open and a pair of tiny cowboy boots pounded across the hardwood floors. Daye shouted my name, already telling me every single thing that had happened to her that day. We always had a daily debriefing right before I helped her with her homework or right after her ballet class. She still loved to dance and wouldn’t be swayed to play soccer, no matter how many times Lane teased her about it.

  I was all but forgotten as the little girl caught sight of her uncle. She squealed so loudly my ears hurt as she threw herself at him, forcing him to catch her with his free arm. Those green eyes that were so like her father’s glittered with glee as she shamelessly demanded, “What did you bring me?”

  “Hands off my lady, little brother.” Sutton’s deep voice teased as he made his way into the room. I lifted my lips for the kiss I knew was coming and giggled as he reached out to ruffle Lane’s dark hair like he was a little kid. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He looked at me questioningly. “Did you?”

  Seeing that the line of questioning was making Lane uncomfortable, I gave a noncommittal shrug and responded with the truth. “Doesn’t matter. We always have room for family.”

  No matter where we were or what we had going on, our door was always open for the ones we loved. Wherever we were, and no matter the situation, there would always be shelter from the storm.

  The End

  I will love you forever if you made it this far and you take the time to leave a review on whichever retail site you purchased Shelter on!

  Want to get in on the adventure from the beginning?

  Meet Cyrus Warner and watch him fall in love with Leora Connor on an action-packed Retreat.

  Not Quite a Cowboy

  “They don’t even look like real cowboys.” I muttered the words under my breath low enough so that only my best friend could hear them. She turned her head in my direction and gave me a look that told me she had had enough of my whining and endless snarky commentary. We’d gotten up e
arly to fly out of San Francisco and had landed in Billings, Montana, only to then hop on a teeny-tiny charter flight that brought us out to Sheridan, Wyoming. It had been a day filled with travel, and my sarcasm and snark were at an all-time high. Partly because I really had no interest in being here, but mostly because, for the last few months, I’d been a miserable human being to be around and I couldn’t seem to rein in my bad attitude, even when I really wanted to. She was getting tired of it, and frankly, I couldn’t blame her.

  “Just because they don’t have on cowboy hats and leather chaps doesn’t mean they aren’t cowboys; you have no idea what a real cowboy even is. When have you ever been on a ranch before or traveled any farther east than Las Vegas? The closest you’ve been to any kind of cowboy was when we went to see Garth Brooks a couple of years ago. You promised to keep an open mind, and so far, you are sucking at it.”

  I sighed and shifted away from Emrys. Her dramatically shaped eyes could see right through me and I didn’t need a guilt trip from her when I already felt like crap. I turned my attention back to the three men standing before us and begrudgingly admitted to myself that two of them could pass as the sexified, carefully marketed country music version of what a cowboy should be. They could easily give Luke Bryan a run for his money with the way they were packed into their tight jeans. They were both more than passably attractive from what I could see under the brims of their matching camo baseball hats, the ranch’s logo stitched on the front. When they introduced themselves, I found out that they also had what I would consider authentic cowboy names, Sutton and Lane. I wasn’t sure which one was which because I was completely distracted by the third member of the not-so-welcoming committee. He was the one I was specifically talking about when I made the ‘not a cowboy’ comment. He looked as out of place on this working ranch in the middle-of-nowhere Wyoming as I felt. He was also watching me just as closely as I was watching him. His name was Cyrus . . . which was maybe a cowboy name but to me sounded more like the ruler of some ancient kingdom. In fact, he would fit in way better in Sparta than he did here on the range. The thought made me snicker, which got me an elbow in the side from Em, even though I kept the wayward thought to myself.

  The man, who most definitely didn’t look like a cowboy, didn’t have any kind of hat on so there was no mistaking the fact that his narrowed eyes were locked on me. His lack of headwear also revealed that he had his dark hair buzzed in a trendy undercut and styled back in a way that required product and know how. Two things I would never associate with an actual cowboy. It also showed that he had the faintest hint of silver at his temples above his perfectly even sideburns. Even with the dusting of gray, I still only put him at somewhere in his early- to mid-thirties. The silver in his hair should make him look prematurely aged, but it didn’t. He looked tough and distinguished, and if he was dressed in something other than lovingly worn Levi’s and a faded Jack Daniel’s T-shirt, he would give the executives and CEOs who I did business with a run for their money in the silently intimidating department. Not that I could imagine any of the men I worked with looking as good as this one did. He did something special for that cotton T-shirt that stretched tightly across his broad chest. And the way he impatiently shifted his weight from one heavy-looking black boot to the other pulled denim tight around places I should be embarrassed to be looking. I wanted to ask him why he had boots on that belonged on a Harley rather than in the stirrup of a saddle, but I didn’t want another sharp poke from Em, so I kept my musings to myself.

  No, the man named Cyrus didn’t fit what I had thought would be waiting for me when I agreed to this crazy plan of Emrys’, and if he hadn’t walked out to greet us with the other two men when the passenger van we had taken from the minuscule airport dropped us off, I would have automatically assumed he was part of the tour group and not one of the guides. He didn’t look like what I expected someone who was intimately familiar with the outdoors or the inhospitable and uninhabited terrain of the Wyoming landscape to look like. His rough appearance and unwavering gaze made me question again why I had let Emrys talk me into this vacation that sounded more like punishment than any kind of fun I was familiar with. I was even more hesitant to venture off into the wooded mountains than I had been before, as my stare-down with the man dragged on and on to the point that I knew looking away would mean some kind of defeat. I wasn’t sure what the battle I was engaged in was about, but I was a sore loser at the best of times, and considering I was at the lowest point I’d ever been, I knew there was no way I could be the first one to break eye contact. I loved my best friend, but at the moment I could happily strangle her for deciding we needed this girl’s only trip that would force us both to unplug and regroup over the next week.

  “You ladies are the last of the group to arrive. We’ll get you settled in and then everyone can meet in the main house for dinner so we can all go over what to expect for the next week.” It was the guy in the middle who spoke. He was the shortest of the three and he was the only one who seemed capable of smiling. The man with all the muscles and the scowl kept watching me, while the last guy looked bored and annoyed. His expression indicated that he felt like he was being put out having to play welcome wagon for a couple of city girls. Considering this little jaunt was costing both Em and me an arm and a leg, the least these not-quite-cowboys could do was roll out the welcome mat and pretend that they were thrilled to do so. We were paying for an unforgettable experience, and so far they had delivered, but not in a good way.

  I stiffened my spine and narrowed my eyes. Unfortunately, my intimidation factor was nil considering I was dressed in comfy leggings and an oversized Henley that I stole from my ex. My outfit was great for traveling in, but not so great for trying to look like a badass who wouldn’t stand for the blatant indifference coming from a third of the trio who was supposed to be responsible for my health and wellbeing for the next seven days. I also wasn’t going to keep quiet over the overt hostility radiating off the one I couldn’t look away from. I was one of those women who was always a little unkempt and disheveled, so I had to work at appearing put together and polished. It was a constant battle every single morning as I got ready for work. I could pull off cute with minimal effort, but it took some time and some serious skill with both my clothes and my makeup to push me into the chic and professional sphere. Considering I had woken up at the ass crack of dawn, my wardrobe, hair, and war paint were nonexistent. With my unruly, wavy, strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, I was keenly aware that I looked more like Raggedy Ann than a highly successful market analyst who was also a street-savvy and independent woman. Or at least I had been, until I fell for the wrong guy and he proved otherwise.

  The single pleasant member of the trio smiled again and inclined his head toward the bags sitting at our feet. When Em had booked the trip, they had been very clear that this was an outdoor adventure. We would be venturing deep into the mountains on horseback and we were to leave any kind of technology and civilization behind us. There had been strict instructions on what we needed to pack, and as a result, the bag at my feet was stuffed full and contained mostly new and untried mountain appropriate attire. It was all stuff that would end up shoved in the back of my closet and then, years later, donated to Goodwill because I had very little use for any of it in my day-to-day life back in the Bay Area.

  “Sutton and I will take your bags and show you where you’re bunking for the night. You ladies have about an hour before dinner, so you can relax and get freshened up.” Getting freshened up sounded delightful. Maybe if I put on some blush and drew my eyebrows in, I could get Mr. Personality—with the death stare—to take me seriously when I told him that his behavior was unacceptable.

  The bored guy must have been Sutton because he took a step forward and bent to pick up Emrys’ bag. I thought I heard her sigh when he bent over but it could have been the air shifting and moving around me. The man, who looked like he didn’t belong anywhere near a place that was often referred to as th
e ‘Cowboy State’, took a few steps closer to me. I had no choice but to tilt my head back and look at him. I sucked in a breath as I was struck by the sharpest, clearest, most flawless pair of gray eyes I had ever seen in my life. They were the color of smoke and silver. His eyes cut through me like the honed blade of a knife as they raked over me, from my messy hair to the toes that had curled up in startled response where they were encased in a pair of super-comfy Uggs. Again, my choice in footwear had been great for traveling in, but not so great for leaving the most impactful first impression.

  Cy’s voice when he spoke was deep and raspy. It sounded slightly broken and jagged, like maybe he didn’t use it a lot and when he did, it took a minute for the words to find their way out. It was the kind of voice that belonged to a real cowboy “This isn’t a spa or some kind of all-inclusive retreat where your every want and need is catered to, Ms. Connor. This is the wild, wild west, and if you don’t listen to the boys and pay attention to what they are telling you, then things can go bad faster than you can blink.” There was a warning there, but all I could think of were nights around the warm campfire and even warmer nights in the bedroom. He had a voice that made me think about rough sex and talented hands that I wouldn’t want to say no to. “Sutton and Lane are good at dealing with girls from the city who want to come out and play cowgirl, but I would advise against looking at them like they aren’t fit to carry your bags or like they somehow aren’t meeting your high standards.” Cy had a great voice, but goddamn, did his personality leave a lot to be desired.

  So, smiley was Lane and grumpy was Sutton. Emrys had read the brochure aloud to me no less than twenty times when she was trying to convince me that we needed this vacation and that I really, really needed to get away. I knew from the literature that the men who owned the ranch and ran the excursions were all brothers. From his protective stance, the attractive silver in his hair, and by the way he was trying to put me in my place for some perceived slight, it wasn’t hard to guess he was the big brother . . . emphasis on big. I was totally normal sized, hovering a tiny bit over five-six, but this guy towered over me and he had zero problem with his intimidation factor. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t loom or posture. He simply stood in front of me and his words, with their rasp and growl, made me shiver in both fear and awareness.