Page 13 of Ride Me Cowboy

He frowns. “Maybe? I guess I was the closest to him, in a way. I spent a lot of time shadowing him.” He looks pensive, like he’s thinking deeper. “My brothers and Cass, they’ve all got other stuff going on, outside the ranch.”

“And you don’t?”

He shakes his head. “Never really wanted anything but this.” He lifts a hand to wipe something on his brow, the gesture simple and I only realize when his hand drops that I haven’t startled. Usually, any unexpected movement makes my pulse race. “I mean, I didn’t expect we’d lose him when we did. I thought it would be at least another decade of him on the land. He loved it, too, you know?”

I nod, compassion flooding through me, because Cole can’t mention his dad without his voice sounding cracked. But guilt quickly follows compassion, because that kind of grief is something I know everyone expected me to feel, after Christopher died. Faking it got harder and harder, almost suffocating me in the end.

“Did he get sick?” I hear myself ask.

Cole shakes his head. “It was an accident. There was a fire at the church; he went to help out. A beam fell on him.”

I gasp. “That’s so awful. I’m sorry.”

He looks at me and nods, slowly. “Yeah, it was awful. But that was dad. He died being true to himself. He was a helper. Whenever anyone had a problem, he was right there, rolling up his sleeves asking what he could do. There was a fire? He’d be the first one with the hose.”

Emotions surge in his voice, pride evident from the look on his face.

“He sounds like a great guy.”

“He was.” He hesitates a moment and then, a little forcefully, “He was the best of men, and this place meant the world to him. I’m gonna do whatever I can to keep it going, for him.”

It’s a strange thing to say, because the ranch is clearly successful enough to employ a fair few people, not including the family, albeit a lot of them temporarily. Then again, it must be a huge responsibility on Cole’s shoulders, to manage all of this, and without any warning that the duty was going to suddenly be his.

“My dad was one of those guys, you know, larger than life. Most mornings I wake up expecting to find him at the breakfast table, with a gallon of juice and four fried eggs.”

I feel the same about Christopher, like I wake up in the middle of the night with a hand of fear around my neck, half expecting him to be there. It’s going to be…I don’t actually know how long it’s going to take, before I stop feeling like that. “I guess that’s a part of grief,” I say. And for a second, a strangely unsettling second, I feel myself on the brink of telling him about my late husband. About the fact I was widowed three months ago. About how I understand that a sudden death can totally shake up your world in myriad ways.

It terrifies and shocks me.

Because Christopher, my disaster of a marriage, my old life, are all parts of me that I have sealed into a tight little box for now, to be processedlater.When it’s all a little less cataclysmic.

What is it about Cole that makes me want to forget that? That actually makes me feel like I can open up?

I don’t know. I can’t say. But it scares me enough to turn to him and say, “Anyway, I’m going to run back the rest of the way. I’ll see you later.” I don’t stop to hear his response. I can’t. I just need to escape, everyone and everything, and be by myself.

Chapter Five

Cole

AT FIRST I THOUGHT she was just shy, but as I watch her run up the sloped drive to the house, I can’t get her reactions out of my head. The way she startles like a colt in a thunderstorm is impossible to miss. Like she’s scared of me. Or just scared in general.

She reaches the house and starts to walk again, her butt wiggling in those jeans in a way I can’t help but appreciate, as she tacks right to go around the outside of the house to her bedroom, rather than through the front door.

I go the opposite direction, leading Rowdy to the stables, handing him over to Ben, one of our ranch hands who cares for the horses. Inside, I shower, letting the hot water run over my stiff shoulders and back, dousing me all over before I flick off the faucet and step out, wrapping a towel low on my waist and striding to the large French doors of my own room—directly across the courtyard from Beth’s.

I stand there a beat, wondering about her, wondering about her life, and what brought a bookkeeper from New York all the way to Coyote Creek Ranch for a three-month contract. A frown tugs at my lips. I presume Reagan got references, did all the usual due diligence, given that the woman’s been moved into the house. As another one of dad’s strays, Reagan has a soft spot for someone in need, and it’s not impossible to believe that she took pity on Beth in some way.

Hell, I can feel myself taking pity on her and that’s something I will fight against with my dying breath. I don’t have time to channel my dad’s penchant for wanting to make everything better for everyone. Not now. The ranch is a big enough challenge—it’s something I don’t know I’ll be able to save, though God knows I’ll die trying. Which means forgetting all about Beth Tasker and leaving her alone to do her work. It’s only three months; how hard could it be to avoid her for that small amount of time?

Beth

I tap the pen against the edge of my desk, scanning the overdue notice from the feed shop. There’s a hand written note to Reagan on top of it.

Presume you missed this one in all the baby excitement. If you can make payment as soon as possible, we’d be mighty grateful. Sue-Anne.

The amount makes my eyes water. Then again, feeding this many cows through a dry summer would cost a fair bit. What do I know about ranching, anyway? I reach for the check book and start filling it out, as the door behind me opens, and I turn onautopilot to see Cole standing there, a look of consternation on his face.

I sit up straighter, my stomach in very familiar knots. Because there’s a tightening in his expression that makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong.

---