by Jean Oram
“That’s the creek?” she asked dubiously.
“I only discovered it yesterday, while out riding.” Cole squinted and scratched the back of his neck. “Levi doesn’t have me doing very much around here some days.”
Cole helped Kurt off Clover and he ran to the so-called creek, eager to explore. After dismounting, April hitched the horses to a nearby oak. By the time she was done, Kurt was stomping in the shallow water, exclaiming over the mud and bugs.
“What happened to you last night?” Cole asked.
“I’m sure whatever happened to you is much more interesting.”
“Doubtful.” His twitching smile was a sure tell he was holding back. Remembering where Jackie’s car was parked, April wanted to ask if he’d met up with her, but she didn’t dare.
“Talk to me,” Cole said. “You used to go to Brant for this stuff, and I take it you can’t, so try me out. See if my ears are as good as his.” He chuckled. “I know they’re not, but… I’m here.”
April sighed. “We rushed into things.” And so much had been lost and twisted around in the process, just as Brant had feared it might be. Her eyes welled, as she admitted it was her fault. She’d done what she always did.
She looked up at the sky, blinking. She didn’t want to cry in front of Kurt. Or Cole, for that matter. Or even just plain cry.
“Isn’t rushing into things your specialty?”
“No,” she said darkly, not wanting to admit her fault to Cole.
“Maybe that’s me,” he said thoughtfully.
“He got weird and possessive about Heath. He didn’t want Cookies over at his house anymore––”
“You seriously left your horse with your ex-husband?” Cole had stretched out in the dry grass, hands clasped behind his head, watching the clouds. He propped himself up on one elbow to study her as she sat beside him. “Your pride and joy? The horse who’s been your best friend and has made boyfriends jealous due to how much love and time you squandered on that animal?” He jerked a thumb in Cookies’s direction. “I thought Heath was just poking at Brant when he brought it up during that fight at the Watering Hole.”
“You make it sound unhealthy,” she grumbled.
“Why didn’t you take the horse when you moved out?” Cole was stretching now, his fingers grazing the toes of his cowboy boots as he sat, legs extended.
For a cowboy, he was pretty flexible. “Did you take up yoga?”
“Tried it.”
“What did you think?”
“I’m not crazy about staring at my own butt, yet the stretches help a lot of the aches and pains I picked up in rodeo.” He jerked his thumb at her horse again. “So? Why didn’t you take Cookies with you?”
“Where would I take him?”
“Here.”
“Well, I didn’t. But I was working on a plan.” She found herself getting flustered under Cole’s scrutiny. “Then Brant marched in and took care of it.”
Cole let out a ho-ho of laughter. “What were you afraid of?”
“Nothing.” She shot him a dirty look.
“Mom! Check it out!” Kurt squished his hands into fists, mud oozing between his knuckles.
She sighed and smiled. Good thing Brant had bought that new washing machine. “That’s fun.”
“It feels so cool! Wanna try?”
“I’m good for now, thanks.”
“Didn’t want to ask too much?” Cole asked, referring back to April’s horse-boarding issue.
She nodded.
“Or were you really just keeping a foot in the door with the ex?”
“I wasn’t keeping a foot in the door!” she cried in exasperation. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“You’ve been married to Brant for a month?”
She nodded.
“Divorced for two?”
She nodded again.
He gave a thoughtful hum. “This ranch is like your home, April.”
“So?”
“Look at you. You had a bad day with Brant, and you’re out here. Why did Brant have to retrieve Cookies and bring him here?”
“I was going to.” She didn’t have words to express why she hadn’t. There was no reason other than this big ball of resistance that seemed to freeze her whenever she’d thought about packing up her horse and asking for more help from the family that had always been there, no questions asked. She’d known the ranch was here for her. Just like she’d known Brant was, too.
“Brant thinks I was using him.” She tipped her head upward to stop the flow of tears.
Cole had gone silent, pulling up blades of grass.
“Are you listening?”
“Yup. Sure.”
“You’re a horrible listener.”
He grinned. “Maybe you should try talking to Brant. He’s really good at listening, as well as helping everyone with their problems.”
“He thinks I don’t love him.” Her voice wobbled dangerously. Kurt looked over and she ducked her head.
“Maybe that’s exactly why you called on him when it was time to leave Heath,” Cole said kindly, tipping up her hat to get a better view of her face.
“Jackie said I never need rescuing.”
She felt that familiar boxed-in sensation as she recalled living with Heath on the farm. She’d been afraid to accept Brant’s help, afraid to reveal to him, a man she’d always admired and adored, just how lost she was. Afraid that accepting his help would mean he’d never see her as someone on his level, someone he could love.
Thirty-one, and she’d had no resources, no plan. She had not only lacked a way to support her son, but couldn’t even take care of her horse. She’d been ashamed.
Talk about needing rescue.
“Jackie was wrong. I needed help.” She lowered her voice. “I needed Brant.”
And then she saw it. She saw it exactly how Brant must.
That she’d used him. She’d used him like a crane to lift her out of that life, that house, that marriage. He’d set her down somewhere safe with her son. He’d offered his heart, his everything.
And she’d asked him to.
But then she’d complained that he was rescuing her, and had insisted she was fine and had the reins. She’d argued that she was working on retrieving Cookies, when in truth she’d lacked the courage to do so, just like when Brant had bought her that house when she was first primed to leave Heath. She’d lost the courage to act then, too. She’d lacked the power and self-confidence to act, but when it came to Brant and their relationship, he’d seen it as emotional indifference.
It likely hadn’t helped that she’d tried to wriggle her way out of the cozy web of support he’d woven around her so she could show him she was strong and worthy of his love. She’d wanted to prove she could match him, support him up the ways he supported her. Instead, she’d rejected what he was truly offering: love.
Glancing up from checking on the Sweet Meadows Ranch southernmost herd, Brant summoned patience as he spotted a rider coming over the ridge. Heath Thompson slipped from his horse and landed on unsteady feet. He abandoned his horse, a beautiful stallion, and began weaving his way toward him, his face red with what Brant figured was anger. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a confrontation from the intoxicated man. His jaw ached from last night’s blow, but not as bad as his heart did.
“You,” Heath said, pointing a finger at him.
Brant squared his shoulders and faced him as he approached. “What do you need, Heath? I’m checking herds.” He reached over and latched one of the bins on the back of the ranch’s off-roading four-wheeler.
“You,” Heath repeated. He lunged forward, swinging his arm to deliver a right hook. Brant blocked it, then allowed his frustration and anger to lead to a punch of his own. His fist connected with Heath’s jaw, sending the man staggering back in surprise.
Heath blinked twice. “You hit me.”
Brant rolled the tension out of his shoulders and took a step forward. “Do you want me to do it agai
n?”
Heath massaged his jaw, then waggled a finger at Brant. “You’re not who I thought you were.”
Pretty much everyone in town could say that these days.
They stared at each other for a long moment. The breeze played with their jackets, the hair that stuck out from under their hats.
“Why did you come out here?” Brant asked. “To tell me I’m a home-wrecker and to deny, once again, that you’re the father of a charming little boy?”
Heath continued to stare at Brant. Finally, after much apparent internal debate, he said with a heavy sigh, “I know he’s mine.”
Brant didn’t speak, sensing a shift occurring in the man.
“He was crying all the time.”
“What do you mean?” Brant asked, that familiar protectiveness building inside him. Had something happened when he’d been taking care of Kurt last night? “Is he okay?”
“We yelled all the time. And I stayed away even when I didn’t need to. She never loved me.” Heath flopped onto the rack on the back of Brant’s four-wheeler, his alcohol-fueled fight seeming to have fizzled out.
Brant sighed. He had a lot of chores to finish, but had a feeling the man needed to talk, and it was going to take some time.
“You and April fought a lot?” he said, figuring the sooner Heath got started on his stories, the sooner he’d leave Brant alone.
“Always.” He suddenly seemed too weary to sit up straight.
“Did you love her?”
Heath contemplated the horizon, his eyes filled with pain and regret. “I reckon that was the closest to it I’ve ever been.”
Brant zipped up the medical bag he’d set on the ground with the herd’s records, and dropped it into a crate beside Heath, sizing him up. “Then why won’t you let her go in peace?”
Heath slid off the machine, fists raised again. He wobbled, and Brant figured it must have been a long ride out here on horseback. Judging by the grass stains and dirt on Heath’s jeans, the man had taken a spill off the beast at least once. He was lucky he hadn’t broken a leg or torn some tendons.
“What’s it to you?”
“Why won’t you?” Brant repeated, tipping up his chin.
“She’s brave. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” Heath’s shoulders slumped and Brant felt for the man. He knew what kind of hole April left behind.
“She was brave to leave me, and I didn’t make it easy.” He looked up again and Brant instinctively tightened his muscles, rolling his weight onto the balls of his feet so he could move quickly if need be. “It was for the best. She couldn’t have done it without you.”
There was something in the man’s tone that caused Brant to lower his guard. Heath was letting go. Finally.
Now that it was too late for Brant.
“Thanks for being there for her,” Heath said, his pained eyes begging Brant for something akin to forgiveness.
Brant sighed and shook his hand when he extended it. With a tug, Heath pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”
Brant patted him on the back, unsure what to say, or whether to expect a sucker punch.
“We didn’t do anything before the divorce was final,” he assured him. “I want you to know that.”
Heath eased back and studied his face, judging Brant’s sincerity. He gave a nod that was at first hesitant, then more sure. “I appreciate that.”
“And even though things are tricky between April and me at the moment, we’re still married,” Brant stated. “I love her, and I would put your son’s life before my own.”
Heath’s eyes filled. He gave a brief sniff. “You’re a good man. Both April and Kurt are lucky to have you.”
Brant placed a hand on Heath’s shoulder. “They’re lucky to have you, too.”
The man backed up a step, his head swinging as he gave a derisive snort. “They’re lucky to have me on the road and out of their hair so often.”
“You have a lot to offer.”
Heath’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed.
“You’re fun-loving and spontaneous,” Brant said firmly. “I tend to be a bit too serious. I have a feeling Kurt’s going to need advice from you as a teenager. He’s got that same spark you and April have, and I’m not sure how to raise someone like that without squelching that fire. We’re going to need you.” Assuming he and April figured things out, of course.
Heath’s shoulders straightened as he considered Brant’s words. “Yeah. You are.”
“I know a lot about animals, and so does April, but when it comes to rodeo livestock, if Kurt is interested, I’m hoping you’ll be the one to set him up with the right horse. One that will keep him safe.”
“Yeah. I can do that.” He was nodding now, looking determined. “You know he’s not too young for rodeo.”
“That’s right. And I’m sure he’ll become interested soon. Still, I worry about safety. April does, too. But I know you’ll train him and his animal well.”
Heath nodded.
They both paused awkwardly for a moment, and Heath glanced over to where his stallion was grazing. Then his eyes cut back to Brant. “You know April loves you.”
Brant stiffened. He wasn’t up for this conversation. Not with Heath. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“Always has,” he added.
“Heath, we never—“
“Just listen.” The man put up a hand, suddenly looking weary beyond his years. “I don’t know if she recognized it as that, but I sure did. And I was jealous as hell. Still am.”
Brant considered the proclamation.
“She’s an amazing woman,” Heath stated.
“I know.”
“I felt like I was the luckiest man on earth when she turned to me that night she broke up with Cole. I knew it wouldn’t last. When I found out she was pregnant, I thought I’d hit the jackpot.” Heath smiled, the flesh around his eyes crinkling. The smile faded. “But I’m not the right man for her. She needs a steady rock like you. Always has. It kills me I can’t be that for her. That’s why…” He let out a shaky breath before continuing. “That’s why it’s been so hard to let her go. Because I know she’s going to be happier without me.” His voice hitched. “How can a woman I love be better off without me?”
He shook his head again. “Nah, but it was never really love. Not like the real stuff. We both knew that.” He stared at Brant, his face creased in thought. “You know when you want the fancy sports car, even though you know you’re going to drive too fast, lose control and drive it off a cliff?” He gave a crooked smile and Brant nodded, trying to understand.
“She’s meant to be with you. Fight for her. Yell if you have to.”
Brant shook his head. He wasn’t Heath. He wasn’t going to yell at his wife to get her to love him.
“No,” Heath said firmly. “Take advice from someone who was married to her for several years. If a man like you raises your voice, she’s going to listen.” He grabbed the front of Brant’s jacket and gave a small shake, then let go. “She’s scared. She doesn’t know how to love. I couldn’t teach her that.”
He patted Brant’s coat and took a step back.
“Fight for her. She’s who you’re supposed to be with. And she’d be lost without you.”
April set down her phone in frustration. She’d tried to call Brant three times since returning from her horseback ride with Kurt and Cole.
Each time she got his voice mail.
They had their wedding reception at the barn outside town tonight.
Tonight!
And they weren’t even speaking to each other.
She’d forgotten all about the party until Kurt mentioned it on the ride home from the ranch. Wouldn’t that have been something, if Brant showed up at the event and she stood him up?
But what if she went and her husband didn’t?
Somehow, even though Brant was hurting, she couldn’t see him having her go to the party without him. That thought alone made her feel a bit better about attending
a celebration of their already crumpling marriage.
One she hoped to save.
13
Brant paused in the doorway of the converted community events barn located a few miles outside of town. Sweetheart Creek used it for fund-raisers and barn dances, potlucks, and for their celebration of the Couple of the Year.
Somehow Brant had never quite seen himself as an integral part of that celebration. Or showing up unsure whether his new bride was going to be there or not. And if she was, if she was going to speak to him.
He forced himself to smile as well-wishers shook his hand, drawing him farther into the barn.
“Thank you,” he said once again, as he was offered more congratulations.
He scanned the busy room, his eyes catching on a blue dress. April. His heart pounded harder and his palms grew damp.
He still loved her. There was no denying that.
But she had needed rescuing, even if she’d been unable to see it. What he’d done was an act of love, but he understood how she’d felt he was preventing her independence. How could they have gotten something borne of goodwill so terribly wrong?
He strode toward her, ignoring friends and neighbors who spoke to him.
He stopped in front of his wife, and her eyes lifted to his, that adorable smattering of freckles across her nose standing out as her face paled. He barely noted the people milling about, or what song was playing through the barn’s sound system. Everything but April MacFarlane faded away.
“You needed rescuing,” he said gruffly.
She nodded.
“Are you listening to me?”
She nodded again.
“Well?”
“I did need rescuing.” Her eyes cut to the side and her voice was quiet. “And I didn’t need rescuing by just anyone, either.” He could barely hear it over the background noise. Her eyes finally lifted again. “I needed you, Brant. I needed the man I love. Then and now. Always.”
He exhaled, letting her admission soak in.
“I love you, Brant.”
His own voice was shaky as he said, “I love you, too.”
