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A Real Cowboy Always Trusts His Heart

Page 6

by Stephanie Rowe


  "Me." He didn't need to say more. Chase had grown up with the same abusive, bastard father that he had. They all had the same fucked-up darkness inside them.

  Chase sighed. "Give yourself a break, bro."

  "Dane says she needs light. Sunshine. A break from the past. Not me."

  "What do you think?"

  Ryder closed his eyes and ground his palms into his eyes. "I don't know."

  "Yeah, you do. What does your gut say?"

  He grimaced. "I think I can help her," he finally admitted. "I think it's gotta be me. I'm the only one she trusts." Or trusted, at least.

  "Then do it." Chase sounded pleased.

  "I don't know if I can," he admitted. "What if…" Jesus. There were so many ways he could screw it up, including crossing that line between them, the line he'd crossed on her prom night.

  "She came home for a reason. You're that reason. You know it. You've always been the only one who could reach her."

  At Chase's words, something flickered to life inside Ryder. Hope. Faith. Something. "You think she came home for me?"

  "Yeah. Be the guy she needs."

  Ryder stood up and walked over to the window, looking out across the river, weighing those words. The sun was just starting to rise, casting faint orange hues across the Wyoming sky. "I don't know if I can get her to stay long enough to help her."

  Chase chuckled. "Zoey's part of our family, bro. She always has been. You may have been the one she really connected with, but she was in the Stockton brother circle of protection. It's a team effort. We'll get her to stay in town. You help her heal."

  The tension that had been gripping Ryder so tightly began to ease. "How are you going to convince her to stay?"

  "Not me. We need to send in our big guns."

  A slow smile spread across Ryder's face. "Damn, bro. You don't mess around."

  "Never. Not when it's people I love." A little voice yelled "Daddy" in the background. "I gotta go. Listen, can we go over some things for the barn later today? I have some ideas."

  The barn. The project he'd been planning to quit this morning so he could leave town, and leave Zoey behind. The project that would keep him in town most days once it got underway. In town, and sleeping in the same house as Zoey.

  "Ryder? You're still in on the barn, right?"

  He took a deep breath, then grinned. "Hell, yeah, I'm in."

  Chapter Eight

  The house was quiet when Zoey finally ventured downstairs for breakfast the next morning.

  She'd awoken tense and agitated, not wanting to see Ryder or Dane or anyone, so she'd laid in bed for a while, listening to make sure Ryder was gone and no one else had arrived.

  The silence had convinced her she had the place to herself, time to get online, and figure out where she was going to go next. She'd put on the sweatpants and sweatshirt that Ryder had left for her, but gave up on socks or a bra since hers were stinky with smoke. She limped downstairs on her yay-not-broken ankle to try to find something to eat.

  When she got down to the kitchen, however, she was unprepared for what she saw.

  The kitchen was gorgeous with granite counters and beautiful wood cabinets, but that wasn't what made her stop. The room stretched across the back of the house, with huge windows opening to a breathtaking view of a river, endless blue sky, and limitless fields. It was pure Wyoming freedom, beautiful beyond words.

  Her heart stuttered, and she walked across the kitchen, stepping out onto a screened porch. The air was fresh and clean, crisp but not cold as it filled her lungs. There were blue wildflowers dotting the fields, and a few spots of white and yellow, the first signs of spring.

  God, she'd forgotten about spring in Wyoming, about how the vast expanse of nature made her feel so small, and yet so unconstrained.

  There were no sounds, except the rushing water. No cars. No sirens. No machinery. Just a quiet serenity that filled her with peace. So different than Boston, with its high energy, buzzing crowds, and constant motion.

  She rested her palms on the screen and pressed her face against the mesh. "So beautiful," she whispered.

  "Isn't it?" Ryder said.

  She jumped and spun around, her breath catching as Ryder walked onto the porch, holding a neon yellow water bottle. He was in a pair of running shorts, a tech tee shirt, and running sneakers, with sweat glistening on his forehead. His thighs were corded, and his arms were chiseled muscle. He hadn't shaved, and his whiskers were thick on his face. He looked like pure testosterone, and she felt like whimpering. Damn him for being so freaking male!

  She swallowed. "I thought you were gone for the day."

  "Nope. Just went out for a run. Brilliant day out there." He took a long drink from his glass. "Got almost ten miles in. Nothing like a run when you got stuff on your mind." His gaze was intense, never wavering from her face. "How are you?"

  She shrugged. "Fine." What did he have on his mind? Her?

  "Your ankle?"

  "Not bad."

  He touched his forehead. "You're getting a bruise there."

  "It hurts."

  He walked across the porch, and she tensed as he neared, her breath quickening as he stopped in front of her. He raised his hand, brushing her hair back from her face as he peered at her wound. "It's a little swollen, but doesn't look infected." He grinned down at her. "You look like a fierce badass."

  "I feel like a train wreck," she admitted.

  He let his hand slide down to her shoulder and squeezed gently. "You've been through a rough time," he said quietly. "But you're strong."

  "I know I'm strong, but—" She stopped, not wanting to get into it with him. If she were going to leave, she needed to stand on her own, not start leaning on him. "Is there something I can grab for breakfast?"

  He didn't move. "But what?"

  She wrinkled her nose at him. "I changed the subject because I didn't want to complete my thought."

  "Yeah, I know, but I want to hear what you were thinking."

  "You're super annoying."

  He grinned. "Yeah, I get that a lot. So, you were saying…You know you're strong, but— what?"

  She sighed. "I was just going to say that sometimes being strong might keep you going, but it can leave you feeling like an empty wasteland inside."

  Pain flashed across Ryder's face. "Is that what you feel like? An empty wasteland?"

  God, that sounded pathetic. "No, not at all. It was just a random analogy." She forced herself to duck away from his hand and head back into the kitchen. "So, where can I find food? Cereal, maybe? And do you have Wi-Fi? I want to figure out where I'm headed to."

  "When are you leaving town?" he asked as he followed her back into the kitchen.

  "Today," she said firmly.

  He sucked in his breath, but turned away to open the fridge, so she couldn’t see his face. "Is that so?"

  "Yes." She noticed a coffee machine on the counter. "Can I make some coffee?"

  "Sure. I don't know how to use it. Brody bought it, but I don't drink coffee."

  "Brody?" She opened a couple cabinets, looking for coffee. "Who's that?"

  "Brody Hart. My brother-in-law." He peered into the fridge. "Maddox married into a huge family."

  Ah…Zoey remembered hearing about how Ryder's twin had married a woman with a big family, as well as a young daughter. So much had happened with the Stocktons in the time she'd been gone. "What's his wife's name again?"

  "Hannah." Ryder pulled some eggs out of the fridge, then some cheese. "She grew up homeless, living under a bridge with about ten other kids. They gave themselves the last name of Hart, and bought a big ranch in Oregon that they all work together. They're good people."

  Zoey's heart tightened. "Really? They were homeless? All of them?"

  "Yep. They're extremely loyal to each other. Family by bond, not blood." The admiration in his voice was apparent, and Zoey smiled.

  The Stockton brothers had had such a tough childhood, and they'd been ostracized by much of the
town, but they stood by each other, no matter what. Once the Stocktons brought you into their circle of protection, it never wavered, which was how she'd gotten to know them. Dane had become friends with the Stocktons, which meant Zoey, as his little sister, was part of the gang. "I can see why you'd like them."

  He nodded. "They're horse people, too."

  "Really?" The Stocktons had lived in a run-down shack with their alcoholic dad and his string of women, but their salvation had been the time they'd spent on Ol' Skip's ranch. Even she had gone there to hide with the horses from time to time. "That's cool."

  "Yep."

  She glanced at him as she pulled a bag of coffee beans out of the cabinet. "Why did Brody buy coffee for your house?"

  "It's his house, actually. The Stocktons and the Harts are starting a joint venture with some of their ranching business. The barn I'm overseeing is going to be the base of the new Stockton-Hart Ranch. Once it opens, there will be a lot of Harts in and out of Rogue Valley, so Brody bought this place. Makes it easier for them to come and go."

  She frowned. "Are there any staying here now?" She so didn't want to have to deal with even more strangers.

  "No, not this week." Ryder put some eggs and milk on the counter. "Want some French toast?"

  Her heart tightened. "You still make it? The same way as before?"

  "You bet." He held up a jar of cinnamon. "I still remember how you like it."

  She smiled as he began to work on the eggs. "Thank you." How did he remember how she liked her breakfast? "I haven't had French toast in years."

  "Then you're overdue." He winked at her as he got to work, singing her favorite country song from high school under his breath.

  Her heart lifted, and she began to sing with him as she prepared the coffee. It was like they were teenagers again, their voices melding together so naturally. He grinned at her as he sliced a loaf of fresh bread. "We still got it," he said.

  "We should have teamed up with Travis and gone pro," she said. She still couldn't believe that the youngest Stockton brother had become a country music superstar. Travis had always been talented, but to become a huge celebrity was amazing.

  "Yeah, he'd be much more successful if we'd joined him, though. We totally let him down."

  "Right?" Mugs. Where would mugs be? She turned around to check the cabinet, just as Ryder reached for a plate, and she ran into his arm. He caught her, and her heart leapt at the feel of his hand on her lower back.

  They both froze, and her heart started hammering. They were so close. All he'd have to do was lean down, and his lips would be on hers.

  "Dammit." She jumped back, twisting out of his way. She would not be that stupid again. She wouldn't. "Don't."

  Frustration flashed across his face. "Sorry."

  "It's fine. It's doesn't matter." She bent her head and focused on the coffee. "So, I'm going to stop by my old apartment to see what I can salvage this morning, then I'll start driving west. Maybe to Colorado? I've always wanted to see that part of the country." She had to get out of there soon, or she was going to pour herself into Ryder's arms and beg him to make everything better.

  She couldn't do that. She had to find her way herself. She had to.

  "You can stay here for as long as you want." Ryder's voice was casual.

  She glanced over at him, but he was too busy sautéing the bread to notice. "I think my apartment burning up was a sign from the universe that I'm not supposed to stay in Rogue Valley."

  He raised his brows. "Really?"

  She nodded. "I need to leave. I don't belong here."

  A muscle in his cheek ticked. "Where do you belong, then?"

  "I don't know."

  He glanced over at her. "Why not stay here while you figure it out?"

  "Because staying here will suck me back into my past, into the pathetic, lonely, lost little girl that I once was." She tensed at the thought of staying here, of forcing her way back into the lives of people she didn't fit in with anymore…people who she'd never fit in with, actually. "I can't go back to that life, Ryder. I can't. Don't push me to stay. Please."

  The muscle in his cheek flexed again, but he nodded. "I understand."

  Relief rushed through her. He was going to give her space. "Thanks."

  He nodded as he scooped the French toast off the pan. "So, you're leaving this morning, then?"

  "Yes." But as she said it, she felt even emptier. Because she didn't know where to go? Because she was running, running, running, like she'd been doing for so long?

  "Hello?" A woman's voice echoed through the house just as Ryder set their plates on the kitchen table. "Is anyone here?"

  Zoey's stomach sank but Ryder's face lit up. "In the kitchen," he called out. "Come on back."

  "Who is it?" Zoey stood awkwardly by the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish percolating.

  "Lissa. Travis's wife. She owns the Wildflower Café you were at the other morning."

  "Oh…right. I remember her." Before Zoey could duck upstairs, Lissa came into the room, holding several shopping bags.

  "Good morning," Lissa said, beaming at both of them as she set the two shopping bags on the kitchen table. "Zoey, I heard your clothes got a little smoky last night, so I brought a bunch of stuff for you. You look like you're a little smaller than I am, so I brought you all the clothes from before I met Travis." She patted her hips with a wink. "Being married has rounded me out. I call it love curves."

  Zoey stared in surprise at the bags. "You brought me clothes?" She was so surprised that she didn't know what to say. How had Lissa even found out about the fire? And to think of her, knowing she would need clothes? It was so kind, so unbearably thoughtful that she wanted to cry. "Thank you," she whispered.

  "Of course! You're family. Can't have you running around naked while you live with Ryder. It would be much too awkward, right?" She winked at Zoey as she sat down. "Can I have some? You know your French toast is my favorite meal in the world."

  "Sure." He grinned as he slid a plate across the table. "Have a seat, Zoey. It's best when it's hot."

  Reluctantly, Zoey nodded. "Want some coffee?"

  "Yes, definitely. Is that Brody's blend? I love that kind he brings from Oregon. I'm considering adding it to my menu. It's that good." Lissa beamed at them both as they gathered their food and coffee and sat down. As soon as Zoey sat, Lissa turned to her. "So, listen, I need a favor from you, sister to sister."

  Zoey shifted awkwardly. "We're not sisters."

  "Of course we are! Your brother married my husband's sister. That's close enough for me." She paused to take a bite of the French toast, then sighed. "God, this is amazing, Ryder. You're sure you won't come cook for me?"

  He grinned. "It's the only thing I make, but thanks."

  Lissa wrinkled her nose and turned to Zoey. "So, this favor. I'm moving into the busy season, and the gal who helps me quit last week. Can you help me out until I find someone new? It shouldn't take more than a month or so?"

  Zoey's gut froze. "Work for you? For a month?"

  Lissa nodded. "Yep. I'm desperate. I'll pay you a fair wage, and you keep all the tips."

  Zoey shifted in her chair. "I'm leaving town today."

  "Really?" Lissa frowned. "Where are you going?"

  "I don't know yet."

  Lissa smiled and nodded. "I get it. That's how I ended up here when I was seventeen. I just left town and started driving."

  Zoey frowned, surprised by the story. "You left home when you were seventeen?" She had too, but she'd headed off to college, not randomly driving around Wyoming.

  "Yep. I was single, broke, pregnant, and disowned by my mom. It was a fun challenge, of course."

  Zoey bit her lip, guessing that the sparkle in Lissa's eyes hadn't been there when she was seventeen. "I'm sorry." Seventeen, homeless, and pregnant? She couldn't imagine how much courage it had taken for Lissa to start a new life for herself. She felt so weak and pathetic in comparison.

  Lissa shrugged. "Sometime
s life knows that we have to get stronger before we can get happy." She leaned forward. "I totally understand that you need to keep going, but is there any chance you can delay your departure for a week or two? I'm really desperate. Family to family?"

  Ryder kept his head down, focused on his French toast, giving her no out.

  Zoey bit her lip. "I'd like to, but I really need to be on my way."

  "How about just today, then? One day? That would give me time to try to find someone for tomorrow. Please?"

  "I don't—" Zoey looked at the bags of clothes by her feet, thought of Lissa so desperate when she was a teenager, and suddenly, she didn't want to say no. She wanted to be around this woman who had strength that she didn't have, who was so nice to her. One day. How much would one day hurt? She sighed. "One day, I guess would be okay."

  "Yay! You're the best!" Lissa leapt up and hugged her, a strong, enthusiastic hug that made Zoey smile. "How soon can you come in? I closed for an hour to come over here since it always gets slow mid-morning, but I'm opening back up as soon as I get back."

  Zoey shrugged. "Not long. All I need to do is change my clothes."

  "Fantastic! Thank you so much! Since today is Friday, I'm open until ten, so it will be a long day, but I promise I'll feed you!" Lissa slid the French toast onto a napkin. "I'll see you there." She kissed Ryder's cheek. "Thanks for breakfast, Ryder. See you later."

  "Bye, Liss." He gave her a quick hug, then settled back down, grinning at Zoey. "That was really nice of you to help her out. She's a great person."

  Zoey nodded, but something inside her was already starting to tighten up. There was no way she could leave town today if she was working until ten. She had to sleep here again, in Ryder's house. She sighed, trying to stay positive. "It was incredibly thoughtful of her to bring clothes for me."

  Ryder leaned forward, his voice low. "What's wrong?"

  Tears filled her eyes. "I don't know. I just… I don't know." She looked at him. "I feel like such a wreck. I don't know why. I mean, everything is okay, right? She brought me clothes. I have a place to stay. I'm not married to an asshole anymore. It's great. My life is great." But even as she pep-talked herself, a tear slipped free and trickled down her cheek.

 

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