“Let’s get dressed so we don’t shock anyone, including the ghosts, and head up to the house. I want to check on Diego and then we can pick up where we left off.”
They didn’t turn on the lights as they dressed. Axel packed up the same bag he’d packed a few days ago, when he’d left the house for the second time thinking it was for good.
“You better not make this a habit,” she teased, gathering up the remnants of his dinner. “I’ll start calling you Nomad.”
“I’m not much of a wanderer,” he said. “Deep Texas Last Stand roots.”
She linked fingers with him as they walked out of the bunkhouse door.
“I like that,” she said. “I want to put down some Texas roots myself.”
“I want to show you something,” Axel said, surprising her as he led her toward the stables.
“That’s right. You went on a horse buying spree,” she teased, too happy to worry about seeing new horses and trying not to fall in love. Axel had his ghosts, and she had hers. It was time to let some of them go. Or at least learn how to live comfortably with them—make them family. “Still think you can tempt me.”
His fingers tightened on hers, and he stopped. Faced her. His face mysterious and beloved in the dark. He kissed her lips so sweetly. It felt like a promise.
“Axel,” she whispered.
“I love you,” he said. “I always loved you. Never stopped. Never will.”
She let her face press against his neck and her palm rested over his heart.
“I never stopped loving you either,” she confessed.
They walked into the stable and he led her to the closest stall. Said nothing.
“Axel,” she breathed, tears filling her eyes so she couldn’t even see the horse and the foal that approached the stall door. “Axel,” she whispered gripping his hand hard.
“Go say hi,” he urged as she continued to cling to him.
Misty River stopped a little, reared her head, blew out a fluttery puff of air through her nose.
Axel opened the door so that he and Cruz could enter the stall. Her hands shook as she buried her shaking fingers in Misty River’s mane. Cruz was openly sobbing now, her face buried against Misty River and her arms around the horse’s neck. Misty River shuffled closer and closer pressing Cruz against the stall, saying her own hello.
“How did you find her?” she demanded when she could finally gulp in enough air and control her sobs enough to speak.
“The foal was up for auction. He looked so familiar so I checked out the paperwork and found the breeder and started asking questions. Had a long drive to get there, but it was worth it.”
“Axel,” she looked up at him. “You said we were over, but you still found my horse.”
He looked a little embarrassed.
“You weren’t really done with me and Diego any more than I was done with you.”
“I’ll never be done, Cruz,” he said pulling her into his arms, but still letting her body have contact with Misty River, who seemed to need it as much as she did. “Never. I love you. I need you and Diego in my life. I want you both in my life.”
Later they drove up to the house, Axel leaving the headlights off, just the moon and years of experience driving this road guiding him, and when he parked the truck and looked at the house, she just watched him, her heart full and her thoughts not only on the future she wanted but also on the present and the man she loved.
He smiled at her.
“Fate is capricious,” he said. “I used to think it was heartless, but I think it has a sense of irony. The accident in town hurt people, destroyed something very important to my brother, injured his friends and nearly derailed his plans for his winery, and yet it brought you and Diego into my life. For a moment, I fantasized that he could be my son, and it made me realize that I did want a son or two and daughters, as well, if I could have them with you.”
“I want that, too.” Cruz blinked back tears.
“And the accident brought August and Catalina back together. I have no idea if that is good or bad, but maybe this time, they can find some closure on their emotionally volatile past.”
“I like them both,” Cruz said.
“Good because you’re stuck with them. And me.”
“I’ll take that.” He got out of the car and she waited because he always liked to open the door for her. It had taken a long time for her to get used to that, but when it was gone, she’d missed it.
He helped her out and hugged her. She inhaled his fresh pine scent that was now mixed with her perfume, his body wash and sex. It was earthy and real and perfect.
“Let’s go home,” he whispered in her ear, and this time when he led her to the house, he walked to the front door.
“To new beginnings,” he said, and turned the knob.
The End
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Thanks for reading A Son for the Texas Cowboy by Sinclair Jayne!
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The Texas Wolf Brothers
Book 1: A Son for the Texas Cowboy
View the series here
Book 2: A Bride for the Texas Cowboy
Coming soon!
Book 3: Coming soon
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About the Author
Sinclair Jayne has loved reading romance novels since she discovered Barbara Cartland historical romances when she was in sixth grade. By seventh grade, she was haunting the library shelves looking to fall in love over and over again with the heroes born from the imaginations of her favorite authors. After teaching writing classes and workshops to adults and teens for many years in Seattle and Portland, she returned to her first love of reading romances and became an editor for Tule Publishing last year.
Sinclair lives in Oregon’s wine country where she and her family own a small vineyard of Pinot Noir and where she dreams of being able to write at a desk like Jane Austen instead of in parking lots waiting for her kids to finish one of their 12,000 extracurricular activities. …
Find her on Twitter@SinclairJayne1
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