Page 40 of Unbroken

I waved my hand at her. “It’s water under the bridge now. Basically, I did something without getting the proper sign offs from the higher-ups first. Initially, it made me a rock star, then it backfired, and it was my fault.” I held up my hand. “Really. I can own that screwup. I was sure it would ruin my reputation for at least a few years, but this is a company of renegades, and they think I’m a total badass.”

“Youarea badass,” Zoe said, reaching out her glass to toast me. “We’re all so impressed by you.”

“Thanks,” I said, sheepish at the compliment.

“So what’s the issue?” Shannon asked. “You need me to run interference with Josh so he doesn’t get pissed that you’re leaving mid-season?”

“No, the problem is that I’m not one hundred percent sure what I should do.”

Shannon did a double take. “What? You’re thinking about maybe turning it down? I thought your heart belonged to the city?”

I fiddled with the stem of my wineglass. “It does. Or it did. I don’t know. I should be jumping on this opportunity, but something’s holding me back.”

“I get it,” Zoe said. “I went through something similar when I got into grad school. I’d worked so hard to get into the program that was everything I thought I wanted, and when it finally happened, I thought I was going to be ecstatic. Instead, I was like ‘meh.’ I thought I’d feel like grad school was where I’d finally feel like I belonged, but once I got there, I realized I already knew the place where I was happiest and most at home, and that was right here, with Josh. So, I changed my mind. And you’re allowed to do the same thing.”

It sounded so simple and obvious when Zoe said it.

“Whatever you decide to do, I’m behind you, know that,” Shannon said, locking eyes with me. “I want you to be happy.”

“Yeah, have you figured that part out yet?” Zoe asked in a teasing voice. “What makes you happy?”

“What makes me happy?” The words started flowing before I even realized what I was saying. “Sunrise over the Poplar Mountains. Slow rides by the river. Helping our guests discover their love of horses. Seeing our legacy come alive every day. Hanging with you guys.”

“You mean you don’t get the same endorphin rush from signing a big contract?” Shannon asked.

“I thought I did, back in the day.” I smiled. “But now I know it’s not even close. I didn’t realize it until I got here and got back into the thick of it.”

“Are you sure the ranch is what’s making you happy?” Zoe asked. “Because Josh told me you and Eli have been very friendly lately. I know you’re doing a fake relationship thing, but he seems to think there’s something more going on.”

After careful consideration, Eli and I had told my siblings about our fake relationship plan. I had kind of wanted to keep it a secret and enjoy Shannon and Josh’s reactions, but Eli had insisted, not wanting to lie to Josh, and I had given in.

“Of course there isn’t!” Heat rushed to my face. “No, it’s all for show. A favor for him, that’s all, to shift the gossip mill away from seeing him as some sort of cuckold and over to the great guy he really is.”

“Mm-hmm,” Shannon said, taking a gulp of wine and rolling her eyes.

“Stop!” I reached out to smack my sister.

“Well, no matter what decision you make, if you follow your heart, it’ll be the right one,” Zoe said.

I drained the rest of my wine, set the glass down on the table, and stood up.

“Thanks for the advice, ladies. I have an email to send.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

FIONA

Despite the long hours spent in the saddle during the all-day trail ride with Eli, I felt lighter than I’d been in a while, which made me want to crack silly jokes and spread the joy by making the riders laugh. Instead, I busied myself talking about the history of Poplar Springs and how the Caffertys were one of the early families to settle the area. It always seemed to amaze riders that my family had lived on this same land for more than one hundred and fifty years. If I thought about it long enough, I’d be amazed too. It made all the pressure that Josh felt in terms of family legacy that more understandable. No wonder my brother was always so stressed.

I was riding in the lead this time and making an effort to point out the highlights of the area, including the wild strawberries and feral apples, both of which were ripe for the picking. When we stopped for lunch, I helped a few of the riders pick the delicious fruit, which we enjoyed with some cold, filtered spring water. I’d been expecting Eli to chime in on the importance of drinking filtered water due to the proximity of our herd, but he’d been surprisingly silent. I resisted the urge to ask if he was feeling well because water filtration along with irrigation were usually hot topics for the hot cowboy.

Instead, Eli had been cordial and a little distant throughout the ride. Every time I glanced at him, he looked away. It continued to unnerve me, even after all the guests had departed and we were alone in the barn putting the equipment away and getting the horses rubbed down and fed. It was late enough that the other ranch hands had all left for the day, which gave us some privacy. I worried that we still hadn’t talked about what went on at the fundraiser. It was obvious there was something unsaid between us. I still felt bad about my behavior. Not that I felt there was anything wrong about showing affection in public or having an adult conversation with other adults … but I really hadn’t meant to make Eli uncomfortable. It was supposed to be fun. I’d forgotten that Eli didn’t appreciate being the center of attention. The smarter approach would’ve been to hold his hand and stick quietly by his side rather than encouraging everyone to look at us.

Even if I had, though, I had a feeling we still would have drawn attention. No matter what he wanted, it wasn’t possible for Eli to blend into the background. He attracted stares everywhere he went. He seemed to think it was because people couldn’t get past the old gossip about him and Charlotte, but I knew it was because he was an absolute snack, and all the single women wanted a shot with him. That was never made more obvious than on the trail rides where even the married women would flirt with him. It was cute, in a way. So long as they didn’t push the flirtations too far because … hello … consent.

Shit. Was I doing exactly what some of these riders did? No, I decided. Because we both agreed to this fake relationship, which meant he was down for some PDA, right?

If I were truthful with myself, I sort of couldn’t resist hanging all over him. Any excuse to feel those muscles under the flannel and—oh damn, how far past that line had I crossed?

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