Page 19 of A Forever Kind of Rancher

He pulled it out and saw Daniel’s name again. “What?” he growled.

“Can you just ask her what I can do?”

“If she isn’t answering your calls then there’s not shit I can do for you.”

“We went through hell together, Boone. Who was there for you when you were crying drunk over your brother taking off, huh? When you were the one who had to deal with your mama’s broken heart because her firstborn ran off, after all the pain she went through losing her baby girl...”

“Don’t talk about my family,” he said. “Yeah, you were there for me when Buck ran off, I’ll give you that. You were there when I was feeling squeezed by the family obligation he left for me, but here’s what you’re missing, Dan. Buck and I will never have a relationship again because he had a duty to this family, and he chose himself instead. I don’t like it when people misuse and mistreat people in their lives. When they fall down on their obligations. I can’t respect weak men, and if you don’t live up to your responsibilities, you’re a weak man.” He breathed out, hard, and his breath was visible in the early evening air. “You’re a weak man, Daniel Stevens.”

Then he hung up, because honestly.

He got into his truck and drove back toward the house. It had been a long day of chasing up permits at the county, making arrangements with contractors and going over the sections of land he could use for grazing, what he could irrigate and a host of other things.

Setting up the ranch wasn’t going to be easy. But until his dad retired...

Well, he supposed he’d be taking over as rodeo commissioner in a few years. And he had to do something until then. Maybe after that he’d do what his dad had always done and hire out workers.

Buck had been the one who was supposed to do all this.

But Buck was gone.

Boone knew his brother had been through some shit, he did. But it was no excuse. At least not in his mind.

Even if you were going through something, you should be there for the people in your life. Your responsibilities didn’t just...go away.

He’d told his brother that, the night before his brother had split town for good. Buck had been drinking, far too much. Like alcohol would erase the accident he’d been in. Like it might take away the horror of that night.

And Boone had snapped.

“You have a family, and you aren’t dead. Stop acting like you’re six feet in the ground with your friends. You aren’t.”

“It should have...”

“It wasn’t! You’re alive. Have some gratitude and get back to it. You have responsibilities.”

And then he’d gone.

Boone had felt guilty about his brother leaving until he’d realized guilt was a waste of time. Time he didn’t have to waste. It had been Buck’s choice to leave. It was Boone’s choice to deal with it.

There was no use getting lost in what-ifs.

Boone knew, from the outside looking in, people would probably think of him as a guy who didn’t take much seriously.

They saw a cocky bull rider who could have a different buckle bunny every night when he was in the mood for that. They didn’t see he was the one who held his mom while she wept on difficult anniversaries.

He was the one who took the brunt of their father’s expectations onto his shoulders as the de facto oldest in the absence of the eldest son who had gone off to lick his wounds. A car accident the year Buck graduated high school had resulted in the loss of three of his friends, with Buck as the sole survivor.

It wasn’t that Boone didn’t get why that had fucked him up.

It was just...

They were all a little messed up. They’d watched their baby sister die when they were kids. So why not band together? Why not try to support each other?

That was what he’d never understood.

They’d been a support system, the Carson Clan, and never as close or as stable once Buck had taken his support away.

But his issues weren’t the order of the day.

---