“And Ryder was the one who kept us together. He worked the ranch all those years. We left it behind.”
“But do you ever wish this was your place?”
“No,” he said. He pushed away from the edge of the porch. “I don’t want to live in a mausoleum. And that’s what it amounts to, to me. A tomb for all of our great childhood memories.”
“Yeah, that’s what I think, too. But I wondered if you did. And we’ve never talked about it. You know, we don’t really talk about much of anything. None of us do. I mean, Ryder’s had Sammy all this time, so I think he’s always shared with her. The girls have each other. Logan used to be our friend, but I feel like he sort of lumped in with Ryder in the end, probably because he was afraid he’d get kicked out since he wasn’t family. And then... Whatever the hell with him and Rose. They all have someone, and we don’t. We don’t talk.” Colt paused for a moment. “Why did you really come back?”
Jake looked back toward the house, his chest getting tight. “I think you know why.”
“You didn’t do a very good job getting away from her.”
“No. If I were someone else I might take it as a sign.”
“Oh, no, not you. You think everything is bullshit.”
He nodded. “Especially signs. The universe doesn’t give a damn, Colt. Not a single damn. We’re on our own.” The words scraped heavy past his throat.
“I don’t think that,” Colt said.
“No? You still think there’s some kind of greater purpose?”
“I have to. I wouldn’t get out of bed, then.”
“I think it’s even worse to think that. If someone’s in charge... They’ve made some pretty big mistakes.”
And with that, he left his brother standing out on the porch, and went back to join the party. Because sometimes the less said, the better. And he’d already said too much. Already dug down deeper into things than he wanted to.
And his hand still burned.
CHAPTER NINE
CALLIE WAS NERVOUS about Christmas at her parents’ ranch. To top it all off, she couldn’t sleep.
She was practically hog-tied by her sheets, from all the twisting and turning she’d been doing, trying to find a comfortable spot. Trying to get herself settled down, and she just flat-out couldn’t.
What had happened at Hope Springs Ranch kept on playing in her head in a loop. The present he’d gotten her. The way she’d felt when he’d given it to her.
Understood. Seen.
And then... Then he’d gotten up and left.
And she’d touched his hand, and something had happened when he’d looked at her.
She felt changed by it. Not so much that it was decisive. No, nothing quite that helpful. She was a little bit the same, and a little bit different. Like he was a little bit her friend, but a little bit a stranger.
Or her husband.
It had made her want to cry. She didn’t know why. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like her body doing unfamiliar things. Her body was a tool that she used, one that she often had to fight against to do her rodeo events. Honing it into something fiercer, something harder, than it was born to be was a point of pride for her. Pushing herself past her limits. But she felt everything in her go soft when she touched him. When he looked at her. And she just didn’t like it. Not one bit.
So she got out of bed and got dressed again. Hoped to leave her tangled thoughts behind with the bedsheets.
She tacked up one of the horses and started riding. She ran a barrel racing routine without the barrels until her face was freezing and her nose was running.
When she’d been in her cast, she’d been limited, and she had hated it. She had no limits. Not now.
Then she started running laps on foot. Run to one side of the arena, touch the fence, drop in the dirt and do a burpee. Up and down and up and down, punishing herself. Her skin slick with sweat in spite of the cold. Because she just didn’t want to go to her room and think. She didn’t want to sit in what had happened tonight. And she didn’t want to think about what was coming. What she wanted to think about was the rodeo. Because it was easy, because it made sense. Because it was everything that she needed it to be and nothing more. And yeah, it was a struggle. A challenge. But it was one that she appreciated. One that made her feel good. Or at least made her feel something she recognized.
And so she ran.
“Cal,” she heard his voice say, echoing across the arena. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Working out,” she shouted back, going down for another burpee.
“It’s late.”
“I know it.”
“Is this what you do? You just... Push yourself all the time?”
She ran back toward where he was standing, and then dropped in front of him, doing another burpee, refusing to slow down just because he said to. “I have to,” she said, her lungs burning. She turned to start running another sprint, and he grabbed hold of her arm. “Why?”
“Because I have to,” she said, wildly wiggling to get out of his hold.
His hand was so hot—he’d been hot earlier, too. What was it? It was like he was a damn furnace. She didn’t like it at all. It was unfamiliar, and it was... Not Jake. Jake was safe. Jake had always been safe. The person who listened to her. The person who believed in her. The person that she had driven to see. The person that she’d known would marry her so that she could get what she wanted. Except now he was her husband, and there was something different about it. Something strange. And it made everything feel unfamiliar, including the skin on her body.
“What are you running from?”
“Don’t ask me that.” She was sweaty and furious.
“What’s your goal? I mean, I know you want to ride in the rodeo, but what do you want to get from it?”
“I want to do it. I want to show that I can. And if I’m not... If I’m not sore, then I’m not working hard enough. If I’m not out of breath, I’m not running fast enough. And tonight was really fun with your family, but I’m distracted and I haven’t been doing the work that I need to do.”
“You work plenty hard.”
“We did one ride together, and I fell. And now we have to go visit my family.” Panic was rising up inside her and she didn’t know why. That same panic that had her twisting and turning in her sheets. That same panic that made her feel like she was turning into someone else.
Or she and Jake were turning into some other people.