Chapter Seven

By the time Colton was on the dirt road to home, the wind was howling. The trees planted around the ranch house bowed away from the gusts, and the clouds rolled in.

The cow herd was lowing, moving as one mass as the sprinkles of rain turned heavier. The horses were at the opposite end of the pasture, pressed against the wind break, their butts to the storm.

He parked his truck behind the barn. The clouds made the evening sky appear even darker, blocking all the stars and the moon. He pulled the jacket over his head and ran inside.

A fire in the hearth greeted him as he shook the droplets off his jacket and dried his boots on the mat.

“Thanks for getting a fire started,” he said to Ty, who relaxed in a wood rocking chair, feet up by the fire. He could hear Jace in the office, talking to himself as he went through stacks of drawings. “We’ll need to keep an eye on the cows. They look like they’re ready to take off.”

“Did you apologize to Gus?” Ty asked.

Jace stepped out of the office, a pencil in his hand. “Did things work out with Gus?” Jace asked curtly.

“I think so,” he replied. “She’s still upset, but she understood.”

She was still upset at him. Would she have been this upset if they hadn’t kissed today?

He ran his hand through his hair as he went to stand by the fire. His jeans were damp from the rain.

The trouble was, now that he had a taste of her again, he wanted more and didn’t know how to get it. Gus was trying to put distance between them, and he didn’t know how to stop that.

Except to go to Steph’s party. Which was a ridiculous request to fix a relationship.

What did a party have to do with them?

He paced the living room, walking past the hall that led to his father’s bedroom. The door had remained closed since they arrived. No one went in there. Not even Gus. Yet.

They would need her to check the structure and paint in there as well.

“Have you gone in there since Dad passed?” he asked Ty.

Ty shook his head. “No. We’ll need to clean it out eventually.”

Colton looked at Jace, who also shook his head.

He stared at the door, hands on his hips. It was his dad who kicked him out, made him feel unworthy, that he was never going to be good enough.

It was his dad that made him decide to run out of this state and never return. He’d ruined a relationship with a woman he cared about. He felt like a stranger in his own hometown. And now he had a legacy he didn’t want or feel worthy of. Every day his dad made him feel worthless—the same dad who’d run the Rocking H into the ground.

The old anger, always on simmer, flared hotter.

Gus’s words—that he was just hiding out on the ranch, avoiding everyone and everything—hit him squarely in the chest.

He wasn’t avoiding anything. He was worthy, and he was going to prove it. But first, he wanted his dad’s stuff out of the house. All of it.

Now.

Striding into the kitchen, he grabbed a box of garbage bags and started down the hall.

“What are you doing with that?” Ty scrambled out of the rocking chair and followed him down the hall.

“Spring cleaning,” Colton growled. He stopped at the end of the hall and hesitated.

He hadn’t been in this room for ten years.

Setting his jaw, Colton turned the handle and walked inside.

It was like taking a step into the past. If he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the scent of his father’s soap and cedar still hung in the air.

He suddenly felt young and alone, eighteen again, when he was trying to figure out his future. Trying to prove he was good enough.

The wind outside pressed against the windows, rattling the panes. He flicked the switch, and the dim overhead light turned on.

Beau was never one for the extravagant. He liked straight, clean lines. Nothing fancy for him. The dark blue comforter he used was well-worn, but the bed neatly made. A habit his father had instilled in both him and Ty.

At the foot of the bedframe was a heavy trunk. Like the rest of the furniture, the wood box had simple lines but was imposing. It had been a gift from Beau’s grandfather, Colton’s great-grandfather, when his dad married his mom. At least that was what his mom had told him all those years ago. Everything he knew about Beau, outside of his asshole demeanor, he had learned from his mom.

His mom had since remarried a kinder man who worshipped the ground she walked on and lived in a cozy home on the outskirts of Boise.

“Where do you want to start?” Ty asked behind him, opening the closet.

Colton turned around to find both his brothers in the room with him.

“I’m not sure if I should be here,” Jace said, moving about the room like he was looking around a museum to gather facts. “He didn’t even stick around for me after my mom left him.”

“You have just as much right as we do,” Colton said.

Except for the dresser, the closet, and the trunk, there wasn’t much else in the room.

It felt like he was snooping, but that didn’t stop him from kneeling in front of the trunk and pushing the lid open.

Blankets.

Nothing but blankets.

Colton stared at them in disgust.

Of course, it was blankets. What was he expecting? That his father had some hidden emotions underneath that thick, ornery skin of his? The man only cared about himself.

He pulled the top blanket out and shoved it in a garbage bag. The second blanket followed. Then he reached for the third, and his fingers brushed against something underneath.

Papers.

“Wait a minute,” he muttered.

Pulling the final blanket out, he tossed it aside.

Stacks of papers.

Reaching in, he grabbed a pile.

Not just papers. Photos. Letters. Mementos. There was not a lot of them. Maybe two dozen photos, some letters, important documents, and some odds and ends.

He squinted at the first photo. It was one he didn’t recognize. A young boy with dark hair squinting into the sun, his parents on either side. Colton recognized his dad. The woman next to him—

“Hey, that’s me,” Jace breathed.

Colton was so focused on what he found, he hadn’t even noticed both brothers were gathered around.

“Why bother to keep the picture?” Jace asked.

“I don’t know.” Colton flicked through the pictures—photos of him and Ty as babies. One of him and his mom, he couldn’t have been more than three, Ty a baby wrapped in a thin blanket in his mom’s arms. One with the first horse he ever had.

He handed the stack to Ty, who took it with an eerily tense silence.

Pulling out letters, he flipped through them quickly. Notes between his dad and his mom. He set them aside, unsure if he should even tell his mom. She had moved on since leaving Beau, and it didn’t seem right to bring up the past with her, despite the fact that he and his brothers couldn’t stop digging in it.

There wasn’t much more left inside the box besides some personal documents, a few more photos, a silver picture frame, and a wadded ball of paper in the corner.

His heart stopped as he saw the faded blue lines on the paper. Reaching into the corner, he grabbed the crumpled sheet as though he were holding something delicate.

Swallowing hard, he carefully unfolded it, smoothing the wrinkles, and closed his eyes.

The last note he ever wrote his dad.

The day his father kicked him off the ranch. The day his dad told him he was going nowhere in life and would end up just like him.

And his written response, scribbled out in the rash anger that had followed.

“Dad, this is the last time you will hear from me. You want me out? I’m gone. But know that where you failed, I’ll succeed.”

He stared down at the paper. What had possessed his father to keep it? The ball was worn, as though it had been opened and crumpled hundreds of times. Like his father kept going back to the note.

To what? To remind himself of where he failed? To remember why his son left?

“He only has the one photo of me,” Jace said after they finished going through the stack. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice. Like he had hoped that opening the box would reveal something more.

Hell, he wanted the box to reveal something more. Like he wanted his father to come back just long enough to explain himself.

“I’ve got two,” Ty said. “I was only a kid. He couldn’t be bothered with me as I got older.”

He looked around the old, faded mementos now surrounding them. The room was so quiet, he could hear his brothers breathing.

“What kind of man keeps pictures of his kids when he couldn’t be bothered with them?” Ty asked, an edge of bitterness in his voice.

There was one photo in a frame. A simple silver frame like the kind his mom always favored. It was him. And Beau. Beau held the lead rope while Colton sat on a pony, a big smile stretched across his face. Beau even managed to crack a rare grin in the photo, making him look far more approachable than Colton had ever remembered him.

An emotion he didn’t recognize swelled in his chest, and his throat felt impossibly tight.

“What kind of man would make his kids feel unworthy?” he asked out loud.

He looked over his shoulder where the garbage bags lay forgotten. He should just grab all this junk and toss it.

But then the answer hit him. “The kind of man who feels unworthy himself.”

Beau was never going to win father of the year. They all three had scars from him, but maybe he was just playing with the hand he was dealt in the best way he knew how. It made his father seem human.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he began stacking the photos in the trunk, along with the letters and the note, carefully smoothed. Jace and Ty helped gather everything, and once everything was back in place, Colton took one of the blankets and laid it on top.

He slammed the trunk lid down with a thunk and straightened. His chest felt tight, and for a moment, he wished he could speak with the man. Tell him he screwed up. Try to figure out why his father treated them the way he did.

“Maybe that was enough for tonight,” he said.

“I’m good,” Jace said gruffly.

“Hey.”

Hands on his hips, he turned to look at Ty. His brother’s brows were knitted together, concern etched in his face. For a moment, the expression reminded Colton of the sensitive kid his younger brother used to be, before life and his father worked it out of him.

Ty placed a hand on Colton’s shoulder and squeezed, the most contact the two of them had had in ages. “Despite what you think, you are worthy.”

Colton stared down at the box, lost in the memories of that fateful day that changed his entire life. Was that what his father had intended? For him to leave forever? Maybe not if his father’s will required they all be together. What if that giant fight had been a huge mistake on both of their parts, and neither one of them got the chance to smooth it over?

He would never know.

“I’m trying to be,” he said.

The storm hit hard during the night. The old windows rattled with the hammering force of the wind, and the whole bunkhouse creaked with the pounding rain. Thunder rolled through, the rumbles echoing with heavenly force.

Colton had barely slept a wink. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could think of was that trunk in his father’s room. Rolling over in bed, he sat up and ran his hands through his hair.

Hopefully, it didn’t snow. The last thing they needed was their planted fields to be frozen over. He dropped his head against his palms, fortifying himself, before pulling on boot socks and the worn pair of Wranglers Ty had lent him when he had first shown up.

There was a quick knock at the bunkhouse door before it flew open, and Ty stepped inside. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, like he had dressed in a hurry, and his hair was standing on end.

“Have you looked out the window?” His brother’s words were terse.

“No, my view is blocked by trees.”

“Cows are out.”

“Shit.” He pulled on a tee and a jacket, and followed Ty outside.

The fresh clean smell of rain and mud filled his lungs as they hurried down the path toward the pastures.

On one hand, it thankfully didn’t snow. On the other hand, the cows were indeed out, tromping through the freshly planted fields and turning their crops into a mud bowl. The small herd of thirty was grazing happily, their tails twitching, mud up to their rumps.

Not good.

“How did they get out?” he called over his shoulder. He had a feeling he didn’t want to know the answer.

“There.” Ty pointed behind them to a bunch of broken posts, and a jumble of wire lying in a pathetic mass in the mud.

“The cows must have bolted through.” He walked over to the posts and looked closely at them. “Great. The posts are rotted at the base. Which means there’s probably more.”

“We need to round up the cows ASAP. We can put them in the pen by the yearlings.” Ty started toward the horse pasture.

“We can’t use horses,” Colton said, his farming knowledge kicking into gear. “The field is a mud pit, and the horses will make it worse. I’ll call Gus and see if she can come help rebuild the fence.”

Ty gave him a look, but he ignored it.

Her phone rang twice and went to voicemail. Cursing under his breath, he left a brief message and hung up. He was pretty positive she had forgiven him yesterday, but that didn’t stop a bolt of concern flashing through him. She had agreed to continue working on the ranch, but maybe that was where she was going to draw the line.

“She’s not answering, and we need to get these guys into a holding pen before they cause any more damage. Let’s grab Jace. The more hands the better.”

They found Jace already heading out of the house.

“I don’t know the first thing about cows.” Jace eyed the herd with an apprehensive look.

“We’ll talk you through it. Just be slow and steady, and no sudden movements,” Colton said. “Come around this side of the herd with me.”

The field was a slick, muddy mess, and the journey over to the cows was a slow one. Colton’s boots were soon caked in mud, and his jeans soaked through.

Careful to not startle the herd, they eased their way around them and then calmly started to push the herd forward. The cows bellowed to each other, and mommas guided their calves, as they started moving along. Well, all but one cow. From his experience, there was always at least one troublemaker in a herd. And this one—Number 86—kept turning around and eyeing Colton, her ear tag swinging wildly.

He eyed her right back, pushing her to move forward. If one cow took off in another direction, it could incite the whole herd to take off as well, and the last thing they wanted was to be chasing the cows all over the ranch. Or have them plow through another fence. The herd was just large enough that he and his brothers couldn’t stop them if they got the wild idea to head for the hills.

Number 86 spun around and tossed her head, clearly challenging him.

“Watch her,” Ty called.

“I’m watching her,” he called back, trying to keep his voice even as he urged her to turn around. “Jace, just keep moving with the rest of the herd. Just like that.”

The cow wasn’t having it. With a short bellow, she took two steps backward, and then took off like a shot in the other direction.

He waved his arms, trying to startle her in the right direction. He turned, determined to guide her around before she got the rest of the herd going. However, his boot stuck firm in the mud, and refused to turn with him.

His knee twisted, and he crumpled, landing thigh-first in the mud.

“Colton,” Ty called. The cow took off but thankfully the herd stopped and didn’t go any farther.

“Are you hurt?” Ty started the long, mud-sucking journey over to him.

“Only my pride.” he snapped, still reeling from the fall and the shock of cold, muddy water seeping through his jeans.

“It’s a part of the life,” Ty said, as he offered a hand to help him up.

“So, I’m not supposed to do that, right?” Jace said, a small attempt at a joke. “This is why I stick with the books. Numbers make way more sense than cows.”

“Yeah.” Colton scrambled to his feet. “Don’t listen to me anymore. Follow Ty. He’s better with this anyway.”

They opted to leave the runaway cow in the field. Shortly after seeing the rest of her herd move farther away, she came rushing back, storming into the middle of the herd.

He glared at the rebellious animal. His leg ached, and his ribs hurt from the sudden fall. Nothing broken, but his muscles were certainly bruised. Not to mention that he was covered all up and down one side in mud. His boots were probably a goner at this point.

“This is why you deserve the ranch more than I do,” Colton grumped to Ty, trying his best to not limp. Thankfully, the rest of the journey was uneventful. The cows crowded into the holding pen, and he shut the gate behind them.

Though, truth be told, he felt a little different about the place this morning. Like going through his dad’s stuff left him feeling a little more…open to taking the place on.

It was still early morning, probably not much past seven. After the pandemonium of last night’s storm and the effort of moving the cows, the sudden stillness of the early morning was peaceful. Beautiful. There was rawness in the endless untouched miles of land and mountains and rivers that made Montana more soothing than the most peaceful moment in a city. And he would know.

“What next?” Jace asked, looking around.

“Fence,” Ty said. “We only have a few posts, but it’ll be enough to get the fence repaired until we head to Bozeman to pick up more lumbar.”

Jace jerked his chin in the direction of the dirt road leading to their ranch. “Someone’s coming.”

Sure enough, a blue pickup was rolling slowly down the drive. A familiar blue pickup.

His heart did a full, slow pulse as every nerve in his body sat up in excitement.

She didn’t have to. It was beyond early in the morning. And it was only yesterday she had stormed off the ranch yelling that she quit, and yet there was her truck slowly driving up the muddied road, carefully maneuvering through the muck.

Her long blond ponytail bounced behind her as she got out of her rig. Her big, open smile landed on Ty. Her eyes shifted to him, and then pulled away. “Hi, guys. Colton called panicked, and despite you guys trying to kick me off the job, I guess I just can’t say no to someone asking for help.”

“Thank god for that,” Ty called.

She looked around. “Wow, your cows did a number, didn’t they?”

“Yeah.” Ty shook his head, a smile firmly in place. “Look what they did to Colton. He face planted in the mud.”

“Thanks, bro.” He swiped at the mud that ran from his shoulder to his boot.

“Look, I should apologize. It’s my fault they were looking at other contractors.” Jace walked over to her, and said a few words to her, his voice so low that Colton couldn’t hear.

He shouldn’t care what Jace was saying. He focused all his attention on the post hole that needed to be dug. When Jace finally walked away, he noticed that Gus seemed a little sunnier.

“Thanks for coming to help,” he offered as she pulled her gloves on, feeling lame as he said the words.

For a minute, her face softened, and she touched his arm.

A shock of warmth shot through him right where she touched him. His body responded instantly, and he could feel himself pulling toward her like the earth giving way to the sun’s gravity. He closed his eyes, savoring her touch, wishing he could pull her close and feel the warmth of her pressed against him.

“When a neighbor asks for help…” she started to say. “But actually, you so rarely ask for yourself, I couldn’t say no.”

“You came to help me?” he asked, hardly daring to believe it. Not Rocking H. Not his brothers. Him.

She nodded. “I came for you.”

There was a heat in her eyes, a look that was familiar and yet new. Something there for him, and only him.

As he walked toward his brothers, Gus by his side, suddenly Montana didn’t seem so bad.