Page 75 of Cowboys Next Door

“It wasn’tmyplace to tell him. This isn’tmyland.”

“But you didn’t mind bringing him here to help you fix it,” Hudson insists, refusing to take any responsibility for his secrecy. “And this deal is not ours. It was our fathers’. And Miss Katherine’s. They should have been the ones to tell him—if anyone at all. I don’t see why he needed to know.”

His defensiveness angers me, and Eli stands to put himself between us as I rise.

I laugh hollowly. “I’m not going to attack him, Eli,” I snap, spinning toward the door. “Although I’m starting to think he could use a good kick to the pants.”

“Where are you going, Rosie?” my grandmother calls out, sounding heartbroken.

“I’m going to talk to Connor,” I say. “And see if we can’t make things right.”

“I’m coming with you,” Eli offers, and I don’t try to stop him, but Hudson doesn’t suggest tagging along.

I glance back at him, shaking my head.

Doesn’t he feel any guilt about Connor’s pain? How would he feel if the roles were reversed?

“Rosie…”

I turn to look at my grandmother, my mouth in a firm, unhappy line.

“Bring him home, please.” Her eyes are sad, and I can read the regret in her pale, lined face.

“I will,” I vow. “I didn’t go to Seattle all weekend to come home and find my family all broken up.” I look meaningfully at Hudson, who shifts uncomfortably in his spot on the sofa. “We’re supposed to be a team here. We’re no good to one another in pieces. We’ve already established that.”

“Connor is being ridiculous,” Hudson complains. “Not everything is about him.”

I inhale and steel myself from retorting. I don’t want Hudson to come if he’s only going to ridicule Connor. That will make things worse.

“Come on,” I tell Eli. “Let’s go talk to him.”

“He’s not going to answer!” Hudson warns as we exit the house, but I don’t turn around.

Connor will answer for me. I won’t leave until he does. I’ll crawl through the doggie door if I have to, or sleep in the doghouse where we probably all belong, anyway.

CHAPTER26

Connor

Music blasts from my state-of-the art speakers as I work across the second floor, a slight sweat forming over my brow. I pause to pull off my overshirt, leaving me in only a form-fitting white tank.

I toss the azure garment aside and reach for another roll of tape, pausing to wipe another bead of sweat from my face before continuing. I’ve been at it all day, but I don’t stop. If I stop, then I think, and if I think, then I get depressed and want to sit down and never stand again. The best thing to do is just keep going.

A low-key drum solo washes out Bounce’s barking until Silo’s howls join in, and I finally pause to cock my head, listening beyond the blast of the bass for the fuss.

“What are you going on about down there?” I call out to the dogs.

Then I hear it again, the hard knocking against the front door, followed by three consecutive rings of the doorbell. The sound is making my pets crazy.

My mouth firms, and I look for the remote control to the stereo, raising the music volume louder as I amble toward the triangle window in the center hallway of the second floor, peering into the periwinkle blue of the evening beyond.

Eli’s truck sits in my driveway, and I exhale, shaking my head.

He’ll give up in a minute,I determine, the soulful tune drowning out the next round of knocking. This is the third time he’s come since Saturday. He usually takes off after a few minutes.

I’ve also seen the missed calls and texts, of course, and ignored the voicemails. I don’t want to hear Hudson lecturing me on responsibility or Eli pretending to give a rat’s ass about my well-being when they’ve been lying to my face for decades.

Like Rose, I believed I had finally discovered the family I’ve longed for all my life, a shared purpose binding us together. However, it became clear that their goal was different—focusing on making a jointly owned property profitable.

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