by Maisey Yates
Mostly.
She released her hold on him and took a step back. “Now, can I have my boyfriend back?”
“Boyfriend, huh?” Wyatt’s lips lifted in a rueful smile, a heavy sigh shifting his shoulders up and down.
Jamie shrugged. “He’s never called himself that. I don’t know. But I didn’t want to say like...lover to you.”
Wyatt’s face contorted. “Please don’t ever say it again. I’ll go get him.”
Gabe returned to her, just in time for the finish of the song, and for the beginning of an up-tempo one, which saw Jamie tripping over those high heels, braced only by Gabe’s strong hold.
She was dizzy. Dizzy from his touch. From the strange, surreal fantasy that seemed to wind itself around them tonight.
She was in a dress. She felt beautiful.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.
“Yes,” she responded, “I do.” They said their goodbyes, and when her other brothers exchanged confused and somewhat stony-faced glances, Wyatt stood up and shook Gabe’s hand, making it clear that the thing between them had his stamp of—if not approval—resignation. And she could only be thankful for that.
They walked outside into the cool evening, and Jamie shivered. She wasn’t used to having so much of her body exposed to the elements.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Gabe said, throwing his jacket over her shoulders.
A smile curved her lips, her heart thundering a little bit harder. “Okay. I’m not really sure how long I can walk in these heels, though.”
“Well, I can either carry them or you if it comes down to it.”
She ducked her head, her hair falling in her face, her heart so full it almost ached. She felt like a different person tonight. Like for just a moment, she wasn’t sad Jamie Dodge, or anything remotely familiar. Like she was something made completely new. And oh, she would gladly take it.
That conversation with Wyatt had felt good, and she’d made a lot of decisions to set some things aside.
But it was nice, for a while, to not have anything to set aside at all.
To be a beautiful woman walking with Gabe Dalton, with his jacket thrown over her shoulders.
And then he took her hand, his fingers laced through hers, and her heart gave a hard bump against her breastbone, feeling bruised and needy.
“You might want to take your shoes off,” he said.
“Why?”
“We’re going to go across the field.”
They came to the end of the sidewalk, where it faded out into a farmer’s field, and Jamie looked over at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. I thought we would take a walk down by the river.”
“I bet you do this with all the girls,” she said.
“No,” he said. “But then, you’re not all the girls. You’re Jamie Dodge.”
And just like that, she was snapped back to reality, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. About him having her name on his lips like that. But then... Then if he felt that way, if he felt like she was special, then maybe she could be Jamie Dodge, and this woman walking with him. Or maybe they were the same woman.
Her stomach knotted up, her whole body feeling just a little bit tense. She paused, bracing herself on his shoulder and undoing the ankle strap on her shoes, then the other strap.
“If I step on a sticker I’m going to punch you in the nose,” she said. He laughed, and then she cursed herself for spoiling the illusion. Because she doubted any other woman in a beautiful dress, wandering barefoot through a field, would threaten her date with bodily injury. But Gabe didn’t seem to mind.
The field was soft, thank God, and there was neither sticker nor cow pie to spoil the walk. When they arrived at the edge of the trees, Gabe swept her up off the ground, into his arms. He carried her over the part of the ground that was littered with sticks and pebbles, and set her down again on the sandy, damp riverbank. The water rushed loudly down the stream, the fine sand freezing cold beneath her skin. She stood there, barely able to see the water, glittering in the moonlight that filtered through the trees.
Gabe pulled his boots off, along with his socks, rolling his pant legs up and extending his hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I thought you might want to finish dancing with me.”
“In the river?”
“I’m not that great at romance,” he said. “But I’m trying.”
Considering she thought her heart might go ahead and beat right through her chest, she thought he did a damn fine job at romance, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. But she did take his hand, and let him lead her into the ankle-deep water. She shrieked, not even caring that freaking out over the cold was not a very tough-girl move.
“It’s cold,” she said as he took both hands in his.
“I can warm you up,” he responded, pulling her up against his body and kissing her, before dipping her backward and bringing her back up against him. They swayed in the water, the rocks slippery beneath her feet, but also softened by the moss that covered them. Then he spun her, the water swirling up around them as he did. And she laughed.
Because she didn’t think the evening could get more absurd or wonderful. She’d gotten a makeover. And now she was dancing in the river. With the man that she...
Her heart gave another bump.
She was pretty sure she loved him.
And part of her wanted to say it. Desperately. To tell him exactly how she felt, so that he would know. Because she’d been hiding for so long, pushing everything down deep and pretending she didn’t feel things she damn well did for an awfully long time.
They stopped moving, and she looked up into his eyes, the word echoing through her body with every beat of her heart.
Love.
Love.
Love.
But what if you’re wrong?
And she didn’t think she could face that what-if. Because there was every chance she was wrong. Every chance that whatever this moment was, it wasn’t love. Not for her. Not for him.
What did she know? She had been a virgin until a couple of weeks ago. And he had given her a lot of firsts. A lot of changes.
It would be easy to mistake that for love. And she wanted to barrel race. And if she barrel raced, she wouldn’t be here. And if she wasn’t here...then love didn’t much matter. So she stretched up on her toes and kissed him, because she knew that was right. And she knew it was true.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered.
“Okay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GABE KNEW THAT he had put off talking to his mother for longer than was reasonably possible. He was only surprised that his dad hadn’t gone in there already. And he assumed that his father’s reaction was by design in some way. That he was going to make Gabe be the one to start the fight.
Hank Dalton had never been confrontational. His style was to slink around, then dodge the fire he drew from his wife when the time came. And while he’d changed in some ways for the better, when it came to dealing with Tammy he trod even more carefully than he’d used to.
Last night with Jamie had been like a surreal break from the reality of his actual life. He felt like a dick, using her for that.
As a distraction.
As this beautiful, soft thing that kept him from having to cope with the reality of his situation as long as it suited him.
He sighed heavily and walked into the family house without knocking. He might not live there anymore, but all of them moved freely in and out of the house. Including Ellie and her daughter Annabelle.
And in fact, when he arrived, Tammy was in the kitchen with both Ellie and Annabelle, and they were up to their elbows in making biscuits. Little Amelia looked like a doll, as always, her hair up in a ponytail with
an oversize bow over the top of her hairband, her blue eyes large, and mirroring those of her mother. Ellie was standing back, drinking coffee, her golden-blond hair cascading over her shoulders in waves. She looked up at him and smiled when he walked in. “Hi,” she said. “I have some more information for you on grants. And ways you can work with the school district.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “I actually came to talk to Mom.”
His mom looked up, brushing flour off her apron. His mom was blonde, too, but hers came out of the bottle, her makeup painted on, her clothes fittingly sparkling. She was nothing if not bedazzled at all times. The Dolly Parton of rodeo wives.
He’d always thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Sure, honey. Talk away. We just need to get the biscuits in the oven.”
“No, Mom,” he said. “We need to talk alone.”
She frowned. “All right.”
She didn’t argue, or reiterate the need to put the biscuits in the oven, because of course she had recognized that Gabe was serious in a way he normally wasn’t. She rinsed her hands and dried them on a dish towel full of chickens before gesturing out of the kitchen.
They walked into the living room, where there was a large cowhide rug in brown and white spots spread over the floor, a chest masquerading as a coffee table and a massive leather couch with another cowhide rug thrown over the back of it.
Gabe cleared his throat. “I had a fight with Dad.”
Tammy frowned. “I hope it wasn’t serious.”
“It was pretty serious. Just about...my entire adult life. And some of the stuff that went down when I was a teenager.”
His mother’s face softened. “The horses. I know that hurt you badly when he did that. It hurt me, too. We were going through an awful lot right at that time.”
“I know. And that’s what I need to talk to you about. Remember when you encouraged me to go into the rodeo... When you told me to do it... You said you’d found out about Dad’s secret kids. Boys, you said. You didn’t know about McKenna.”
“No,” his mother said slowly. “I didn’t. No one knew about McKenna.”
“But you knew about the boys. And you told me that Dad did, too. That Dad was the one who had sent them away. Told their mothers that there was no place for them here.”
“Yes,” Tammy said, closing her eyes. And that momentary break in her typically smooth composure told Gabe more than anything else ever could.
“I asked Dad about them. The kids. The kids who are my age. Caleb and Jacob’s age. He told me he didn’t know what I was talking about.”
Tammy sank slowly down on the couch. “Did he?”
“He did. So I’m going to ask you, and I need you to tell me straight. Did they ever exist? Or were you just using that to get me to do what you wanted? To get me to hurt him the way that you wanted me to.”
“They exist,” she said.
“So is Hank lying to me?”
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “No. He’s not. He never knew about them, Gabe. He never knew about them because the mothers—there were two of them—came to see me while he was gone. They told me my husband was a cheater and they’d had his kids. Kids who were teenagers, and that they wanted money.”
“Did you believe them?”
“Not at first. The part where they said your dad was a cheater I knew already. But I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why they would’ve waited all that time to come and try to extort money out of us if they’d known they’d had his kids that whole time. But in both cases, Hank wasn’t famous yet. It took them both quite some time to realize the man they’d had one-night stands with all those years ago was the same man winning big pots of money in the rodeo, and landing big endorsement deals. By the time they did, they were strapped for cash.” Her lips thinned. “I don’t blame them for doing what they did, Gabe. They were protecting their kids. But I had to do the same.”
Gabe was unmoved by that. “And you never told him?”
“No. I gave the money and sent them on their way. Money that I had from him. I managed his career, and I managed that, too. I was not going to have those women come in with their bastards and undermine what you boys had.”
His mother’s words didn’t surprise him any particular amount.
“They’re my brothers,” Gabe said. “It doesn’t matter how they got made. The fact of the matter is that he has a responsibility to them.”
“I didn’t see it that way,” she said. “I just wanted things to be fixed.”
“That’s bullshit, Mom. You didn’t. You didn’t just want things to be fixed, because then you used me to get revenge on him. You used me to make sure that he would be punished for what he’d done. And you lied to me. You let me think that he ignored his own children. He didn’t even know about them.”
“And I feel bad about that,” she said. “Why do you think I let McKenna into our house so easily? I almost wish she had been one of those boys. So that it would...erase what I did. But that was when everything fell apart, and I was so angry. And when we got back together your father promised me that things would be different. And they have been. How can I tell him I’d done that? How?”
Her eyes shimmered with tears, and she moved, giving Gabe a strong hit of that heavy floral perfume she always wore that made his heart ache with the familiarity of it. Because his mom didn’t feel familiar right now.
“What about me?” he asked. “You let me... You used me to hurt him.”
“He hurt you,” she insisted. “He hurt me.”
“Yes, but if you’re going to use me to hurt him back, don’t you think I should know the truth?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t know what right is in the situation, Gabriel. I don’t. I wouldn’t do it the same way now. I didn’t. When the opportunity came again, I made another choice.”
“You and Dad make a lot of choices. A lot of choices to control and manipulate the people around you. And Dad doesn’t seem to be able to make the choice to wear a damn condom.”
Tammy closed her eyes again, bringing her hands up to the bridge of her nose and pinching hard. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Yeah, I’m not sure it’s going to be enough. I’m going to find them. My brothers. I’m going to find them, and you’re going to help me. I need the names of their mothers.”
“I don’t know that I still have that.”
“Bullshit. You have them memorized. You might play a dumb blonde when it suits you, Mom, but we both know you’re not. You are a hell of a redneck woman, and you’re ruthless when it comes to making people pay, and you don’t miss a trick. And the problem is, I know you too well to believe now that you don’t have everything planned out in that brain of yours. How did this all get to be such a mess?”
“We are a mess, son,” she said. “And over the past fifteen years I think your father and I have tried our very best to atone for some of that.”
“I just don’t understand. You had no problem having Clint over all the time, basically taking care of him. And I had half brothers out there...”
“Well, your father didn’t sleep with Clint’s mother.”
And that was right there. The heart of it. The worst, ugliest parts.
When there was love involved, it all got crazy. And it got toxic. And his mother, who had a heart big enough to spend her days making biscuits with Clint’s widow and his little girl, to treat them both like family, had turned a blind eye to other children who had been in need because she’d been scorned. She’d even been willing to push her son in a direction he didn’t want to go to satisfy that need for revenge.
“You know I didn’t want to go into the rodeo,” he said.
“But you ended up being a champion,” she said. “And look at all the money you made. Now you’re able to start up thi
s ranch for troubled boys. And if you’re so worried about all of that then how can you regret it?”
There was the tough part. He was standing here, the man he’d been molded into by all these years, and he wasn’t sure what changing the past fifteen years would even look like.
“I guess I can’t,” he said. “But I can be as angry as I want to be about the method. And I am. Trust me on that.”
He turned and walked out of the living room, walking quickly past the kitchen without saying goodbye to Ellie or Annabelle.
He felt... He felt like a damned fool. And like barbed wire was being twisted around his gut. His mom was the one he’d trusted in all of this. And he’d been so damned vulnerable at the point when all this had come to pass.
Fresh off his breakup, which had taken what he’d believed about himself and turned it on its head. He’d thought he was capable of loving a woman. That he was different than his parents, than his father. He’d thought he was stronger, more mature, more capable of a relationship than either of his parents.
And he’d found out how untrue that was.
How much you could lie to yourself. How much decay you could miss inside your own soul.
And he’d been in desperate need of a chance to prove himself.
And he had to wonder if really he, Caleb and Jacob had always just been pawns for Hank and Tammy to manipulate in their game. Their relationship, which mattered above all else, and somehow mattered more than right, wrong or their own children.
He pressed his hand to his chest and rubbed, and he knew that it was past time to meet with his siblings and have a discussion.
Because the steps they were taking next, from the ranch to the situation with his parents and with the half siblings they didn’t know they had, were going to have to include them.
* * *
EVEN JACOB CAME down from the mountain. But Gabe had figured that if he had called a family meeting, his siblings were likely to take him pretty seriously.
