But for the first time in all of his years, Grady really didn’t feel like his boy anymore.
Maren obviously wasn’t privy to her father’s instructions. Once home, she came by Grady’s place daily. He always found a reason to avoid her. His mama had recently gotten sick and as her weary body gave out, Grady’s ranch responsibilities increased. He was happy to take them on, though. His mama had always done for everyone else and now it was his time to do for her.
Maren understood. She gave Grady space, but as his mother’s condition worsened, Grady needed Maren’s friendship. He needed her ear. And when his mama was suddenly taken from him one lonely, starless night in the middle of July, Grady needed Maren’s shoulder to cry on.
She was the only person he could do that with. But now, with Walt’s demand, she was the one person he wasn’t allowed to do that with.
Grady’s mama hadn’t wanted a memorial. She was no fuss that sort of way. Said there was no sense in spending money on a party she couldn’t attend.
Grady knew it was because she was looking after her son, though. She’d set aside her savings—not much, but enough to pay for six months or more of the mortgage. Doling out money for a fancy funeral would mean one less month with the Cutter Ranch bearing their family name.
In Grady’s eyes, this meant it was time to head back out on the rodeo circuit. That was the only practical way he could make any sort of consistent income. He knew Walt was itching to leave town for a bit, too.
They’d made a connection with a local stock contractor who lined them up to work three rodeos, all located in Northern California and Nevada. It would also mean Grady would be gone for the majority of late July and into August. Maren would head back to San Francisco in a month to finish up her last year of college.
The timing of his absence wasn’t a coincidence on Grady’s part.
Between the heartache he’d suffered at the loss of his mother and the heartbreak he’d experienced in knowing this summer with Maren wouldn’t be at all like their last one together, Grady figured it would be good to get out on the road.
There wasn’t much keeping him tethered home, anyway.
He was out at the trailer the night before they were scheduled to leave for their first rodeo, oiling his tack and taking inventory when he heard the crunching of dirt under boots. At first, Grady assumed it was Walt coming to check on things one last time before morning like he so often did, so when he heard a voice several octaves higher, he startled.
“Hi, Grady.” Maren stepped out from behind the gooseneck trailer. Her body slid into the patch of light that shone from the barn. To Grady, she looked as close to an angel as he’d ever expected to see here on earth. “Mind if I borrow some of your time?”
“’Course not,” he said. She wore a white eyelet sundress and her flaming auburn hair hung down her back. It looked so soft. Grady bet it smelled good, too. Maren always did smell so good.
“How have you been?” she asked.
“Good. You?”
“I’m alright,” she said in a resigned tone. “But are you good? Really?”
“Good as can be, I s’pose.”
Maren sighed softly. “I can’t imagine how much you must miss her. Grady, it’s so awful.”
“Pretty awful.”
He walked around Maren to the small tack room attached to the trailer to hang up his reins. He placed the cleaned bridle next to it. He wasn’t angry with Maren—not even a little bit—but his tone was curt and his body created space between them with clipped, intentional strides. If he let himself get close to her physically, it would be the same as letting his heart get closer emotionally. He’d been warned to keep his distance on all fronts.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been thinking about you.” When Grady stepped down from the trailer, Maren’s hand fell lightly onto his forearm. “A lot.”
What that comment did to his stomach was the exact opposite of what he’d trained himself to do. He couldn’t stay shutdown like this. It just wasn’t realistic.
Without thinking, he said the words he had no business muttering. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot too, Mare. Everyday type of a lot.”
The guarded smile that snuck onto her face made Grady’s insides a warm bundle of mush.
“Really? Because it kind of felt like the opposite. Like you’ve been avoiding me. I tried to tell myself that with your mom getting sick and everything—that you just needed space. And I completely understood that. I really did,” she said. “But I miss you, Grady. I miss us. It’s what got me through so much of the last school year—knowing I’d have you to come home to this summer.”
“You sure that dark haired guy in all of your pictures didn’t help you get through it?”
The smile dropped from her face. “He’s just a friend.”
“But wasn’t that what we were, too? Just friends?” The hostile ring was back in his tone.
“I don’t know. Maybe. But it felt like more to me. Friends sure don’t kiss the way you and I did.”
“All that was was just two kids having fun, Mare.”
“Maybe for you that’s what it was. But for me, it’s always been different. Things always felt different with you, Grady.”
“Did it ever occur to you that it felt different because it was wrong?”
Maren’s mouth popped open like a fish and then clamped shut. “Wrong?”
“Us.” Grady waved his hand between them. “This isn’t a good thing. You and me? This would never end well.”
Maren stilled. “I didn’t think we ever needed to have an ending.”
Her words shattered him. Standing with her—the thick air swirling in a stifling breeze, the heavy, opaque night settling upon them—Grady wanted to yank her to his chest and tell her she was right; they would never have to end. They could go on loving each other for all of their days. He’d take her hand, she’d take his, and only death would break them apart. Maybe not even that.
But they weren’t playing house.
Her father had caught them at that game.
Grady didn’t reach for her, and that took more willpower than he had on reserve. His teeth found the inside of his cheek and he bit down hard. He shoved his hands into his pockets. His boots would stay planted on that dirt and not take a step toward her. Even if he had to tell each muscle to lock into place and stay away from her, Grady was prepared to give himself that long scolding.
Because if he held her—if he pressed his nose into her lavender-scented hair and curled his hand around the back of her neck, if he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her the way he knew she wanted and deserved to be kissed—it would ruin it all. Maren’s relationship with her father. Grady’s relationship with Maren. It was a domino effect that he wouldn’t risk setting into motion.
Grady would never make Maren choose. Her family came first. That’s what Walt’s threat boiled down to. The shots weren’t Grady’s to call. Walt had already decided them all.
Maren was no fool. She read Grady and knew exactly what he was holding back. It was awful to watch her blink up at him and to hear her say what they both knew, but what Grady couldn’t confess.