Page 36 of The Cowboy's Forbidden Bride

Because marrying him sounded like a fine idea to Cat.

So she called his bluff.

“Yes,” she said, and smiled at him, ear to ear. Then, to make sure everyone was on the same page and there could be no claims of any misunderstandings later, especially when her brothers inevitably brought upblood feuds, she confirmed it. “Yes, Wilder. I would love nothing more than to marry you.”

Chapter Nine

Once it wassettled, it was like a runaway train.

“As long as she’s happy, you get to stay in one piece,” Tennessee told Wilder that first night when he and Dallas took it upon themselves to walk their new brother to the truck he’d left in the woods.

Wilder laughed. Not because he didn’t think that Tennessee would love to throw a few punches and was looking for a reason. Not that he wasn’t slightly more concerned about Dallas, who was quieter, but actually trained. But because he hadn’t been kidding when he told Cat that he wasn’t afraid of them.

“It’s a hell of a thing to think about how hard we went at each other on the football field, even though we are supposedly on the same team,” he drawled as they walked back down Lisle Hill. “And now here we are. The Careys and the Lisles, finally laying the past to rest. Makes your heart sing, doesn’t it?”

“It makesmystomach heave,” Dallas replied.

“As long as she’s happy, Wilder,” Tennessee growled. “I’ve never cared what you do and I don’t intend to start, except for that.”

“Sure thing,” Wilder said, with what could only be considered a shit-eating grin on his face, purely for his two new brothers-in-law, like what he needed was more brothers. “Anything for family, am I right?”

And watching the two Lisle brothers flinch at the wordfamilygave him life.

So it was not until he bid farewell to Tennessee and Dallas, complete with a jaunty wave, and then drove off down a bumpy dirt road through the woods that the enormity of what had happened really hit him.

Notwhat had happened, Wilder corrected himself. What he had gone and done of his own volition and free will. Following an ache and an urge that he could hardly bring himself to admit was still there inside of him, the same as ever.

Even now when he’d gone ahead and completely messed the whole thing up.

He drove home in a daze, now that needling Dallas and Tennessee was off the menu. When he got there, he sat outside his cabin for far too long, not even sure that he could remember the actual act of driving his truck out of the little valley, over the hill, and onto the wide expanse of Carey land.

Wilder wasn’t sure how long he sat there, either.

In the morning, the usual check-in texts brought everyone to the ranch house for breakfast, which was unusual. They usually decided on the day’s tasks over their texts and ran into each other later, or not at all. But today Harlan figured that if all the brothers showed up and pitched in together, they could get a head start on a few of the ongoing projects that they needed to finish up before the first frost came in.

It was going to be soon. They could all feel it in the chill each morning. The mountains were letting everyone and everything know that it was serious, the coming season. That it was going to come in hard.

Wilder went through his coffee ritual, but couldn’t say that he enjoyed spending any more time with his thoughts. He showered, but the hot water didn’t clear his head either. So he went over early, because meeting up in the mornings required that they wait for Boone to finish up with his morning milking.

That was how he found himself sitting in the kitchen of the ranch house like he was a kid again, drinking the coffee that Belinda had handed him when he’d arrived. It was not coffee byhisdefinition. It was always either too fruity—because Belinda liked it that way—or something better resembling sludge that he knew was Zeke’s contribution, and it always reminded him exactly why he’d chosen to teach himself how to make a proper cup of coffee in the first place.

Still, nostalgia was a thing.

Today he thought it might devour him whole.

He could hear Belinda charging around the house, muttering under her breath the way she always did. When they were small, she’d told them that she was simply saying her prayers, and Wilder had believed that a whole lot longer than he’d believed in Santa Claus.

And he could still remember howscandalizedhe’d been when he’d realized that she wasusing curse words. The horror!

Then, naturally, he and Ryder had taken great pains to horrify Boone and Knox with this same shocking news.

He laughed at the memory, took another swig, and looked out the wide-open windows that looked over the garden. He could see his father out there, when the garden was usually Belinda’s domain. So he was likely doing some of the work that she considered less pleasant.

Zeke had never bothered to pretend that he was doing anything but cursing up a blue streak as he went. These days he was quieter, and slower, and Wilder found himself scanning the old man’s body for signs that he was.

This was the music of his childhood, Wilder thought then. Two different streams of creative curses, weaving through him and this house like a single drawn-out song.

He was suddenly struck with something more like grief than nostalgia, so hard and so fast that he found himself coming awfully close to having to grip the table to stay upright.

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