Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“No.” His voice hardened. “You can’t take it back.”
“But I have no right to say anything to you at all.”
His hands lifted to my face, easing me to him. “I say what you do and don’t have, cowboy.”
I didn’t want to argue with him, so I kissed him instead.
Later on, after all the kids went to sleep, it was nice to sit and listen to everyone talk. Even listening to Ross chime in was okay, as he was funny and engaging. I sat between Lyn and Cy on the couch, had a cup of tea, enjoyed the sound of the rain pounding on the roof and the glass, and reveled in being inside, warm and clean and safe. I watched the dogs lying beside the crackling fireplace and decided that someday I would have the same thing. Smaller, and probably just one dog, but the same warm family home. It was my dream.
“You’re smiling,” Angie said to me out of the blue, which brought the conversation to a halt.
“Yes, ma’am.” I sighed, so comfortable with Cy leaning on me, his thigh and knee pressed to mine.
“Why?”
“It’s just nice to be inside on a rainy night. Makes you thankful.”
Her breath caught. “Yes, it does.”
“Where is your family, Weber?” Mr. Benning asked me.
“I don’t have any family left to speak of, sir.”
“Oh?”
I shook my head.
Cy cleared his throat. “Weber’s mother passed away when he was fourteen, and his father was a roughneck on an oil rig. He was killed in an accident a year later.”
Angie’s brows furrowed. It was nice to see her worry for me.
“Weber and his older brother, Spencer, were alone after that, and so Spencer, who was seventeen at the time, looked after Web.”
“And where is Spencer now?” Mr. Benning asked Cy instead of me.
Cy took a breath, needing a moment like he always did when he spoke about my brother. His empathy for me was one of his most endearing qualities. “Spencer was killed in Iraq when he was twenty.”
The room was silent until Angie coughed softly. “You must have things of your mother’s and your father’s and your brother’s kept somewhere, don’t you, Weber?”
“Oh yes, ma’am. I have a storage space in Abilene that I used my brother’s life insurance money from the army to pay for. It gets paid automatic every month and will for another ten years or so. But at least I know it’s all safe.”
She nodded. “And if, heaven forbid, anything should happen to—”
“I have the address,” Cy told her, “and the spare key. Those arrangements were made a while ago.”
Funny to think how many things I trusted Cy to do for me, be for me. I had trusted him implicitly from the beginning.
“Cy is my emergency contact in my wallet.” I smiled at her. “If I get trampled or shot or gored or—”
“Stop,” he cut me off. “She gets it.”
She nodded fast.
“Well, if I die, someone will call Cy, and he can dispose of my things as he sees fit.”
“And your profession is that of ranch hand? Is that correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What did you do before that?”
“Rodeo. I was a bull rider.”
“Which accounts for the injuries.”
How did she know I’d been injured? “Ma’am?”
“Cyrus told us earlier you’d been hurt not too long ago, but he didn’t say how. Bull riding must be very dangerous.”
I shrugged.
“You don’t think so?”
“It takes a toll, but so does workin’ a ranch or bein’ out on the road.”
“And you’ve been on the road a long time, haven’t you.”
“Yes, ma’am, I have.”
Her lips were pressed together tight as she stood up. “Okay. I’m going to bed.”
I didn’t expect her to walk around the coffee table, put a hand on my cheek, and kiss me on the other.
“Me too,” Rachel echoed her mother-in-law, darting over to me and kissing my forehead. “Good night, Weber.”
Fuck.
“Good night, everyone.” Mr. Benning smiled, and then he too walked by me, patted my shoulder, squeezed it, and followed his wife up to bed.
I couldn’t stifle my groan.
“What?” Cy asked me.
“They all think I’m some sad sack now. For Pete’s sake, Cy, why’d you have to go and tell ’em I’m a damn orphan and get all maudlin on me?”
“I—”
Lyn’s breath caught, and then she leaned sideways and hugged me tight.
“Oh, for crissakes.” I groaned louder that time, and Cy chuckled softly.
After a minute, I ordered Lyn to get the hell off me, and I went to take a shower. Cy and I had a small room at the end of the hall on the second floor, and we had to share a bathroom with others. When I was on my way back to our room, sleep shorts hanging off my hips, hair sticking straight up, too hot to put on my T-shirt yet, I heard someone call me. Ross.
I tipped my head and squinted, sizing him up. Usually, I didn’t make snap judgments about people. I took my time deciding if I liked them or not. But Ross was different. I hated him. And I wasn’t stupid; I knew why. He easily deserved the man I was crazy about, and I did not, plus he looked like a damn fashion model. He and Cy fit. Me and Cy were a train wreck waiting to happen.