A Real Cowboy Loves Forever (Wyoming Rebels Book 5)

by Stephanie Rowe

  He understood exactly what she meant, because he'd experienced the same thing with his brothers. He trailed his finger along her jaw. "Where are they now? Those kids?"

  "The nine of them who took the same last name bought a ranch in eastern Oregon. There are also a few of us scattered around who never took the last name Hart, but all of us spent time living together when we were homeless. That creates a bond, you know?"

  "I bet it does." Maddox studied her. "They all live on a ranch together, huh? They're like Chase, who wants us to be a happy family on his ranch." He laughed softly. "Sounds like they stick together. I'd like to meet them someday. Loyalty is the foundation of what matters."

  Hannah tensed. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."

  Maddox frowned. "Why not?"

  "Because..." Hannah bit her lip. "I don't like to think about that time in my life. I need to feel brave and strong and successful. If I think about them, I think about how scared I was, and how desperate. I...I don't want to be that girl anymore."

  Maddox sighed, stroking his finger along her arm. "I get that. That's why I will never live on the ranch. We did a lot of riding on that ranch when we were kids. It was our salvation when life was shit at home, which was almost all the time. Even though Chase and the others live there now, every time I step on that ranch, I feel like that kid again, hated by the town, feared by others, treated like scum. I felt powerless back then, and I never want to feel like that again."

  She nodded. "Yes, that's exactly it. As a kid in a bad situation, you aren't allowed to take control of your life. You have to survive what you've been dealt. It's a feeling of being powerless and dependent." She shook her head. "I never want to feel like that again, either." She couldn't believe he understood, but he did.

  Maddox nodded. "If it weren't for my brothers living here, I'd never come back to this town. Ever. Neither would Ryder. Each time I walk back into town, I feel the darkness gripping me, both of my past, and what's inside me. I come back only for them, but not that often. It's just not where I want to be."

  Hannah stared at him, the tight edge of guilt that she lived with starting to ease its grip on her heart. "I always feel so guilty when I don't return their messages. Brody is the oldest. He was the protector of the group. He calls me every month, and has since the day I left. I..." She grimaced. "I haven't taken his call since Katie died. I don't know how to tell him."

  Maddox raised his brows. "They don't know?"

  She shook her head again. "If I tell him...it makes it real," she whispered.

  Maddox took her face in his hands and lifted her face so she was looking at him. His heart broke for her, but at the same time, he knew that hiding from the pain didn't make it go away. "Hannah, sweetie, you have to look at it. It is real. Katie died. If Brody and the others are the kind of family you described, they have a right to know, and I promise you'll feel better if you tell them, and let them support you."

  Tears filled her eyes, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. "Don't say that it's real—"

  "I have to say it." He stroked his fingers over her cheeks, wiping away the tears she didn't even realize she'd shed. "Katie's gone, honey. You have to accept it."

  She shook her head. "No, I don't want to—"

  "Baby, you're not dead. Do you understand that? You're here. Ava's here. Katie lives on in both of you, so you have to let yourself live."

  Grief filled her, and she tried to pull away. She didn't want to have this conversation. She didn't want to have to tell Brody what had happened. He'd be on the first plane out there to help in whatever way he could. She hadn't seen him or any of the Harts since she'd left. She didn't want to go there again. She didn't want to be the girl who needed to lean on him, or anyone else. She glared at Maddox. "Don't tell me what to do. You don't know what it's like—"

  "I don't? Really?" He held out his arm, showing her the scars. "I know darkness, honey. You know how I know it? Because my father was a violent alcoholic who beat the hell out of us kids, and my mom. She was seventeen when she met him, and she came from a hellish situation. She wanted to be saved, and she fell for him. She was eighteen when she married him, and had me and Ryder six months later. She was young, and scared, and fragile. He was an asshole who broke her spirit, which was already in shatters when she married him. She died of a broken soul, even more than a broken body, Hannah. Even her own sons couldn't give her enough of a reason to survive."

  Hannah stared at him, her heart breaking for the anguish she felt in his voice, for the pain on his face. "I'm so sorry, Maddox—"

  He shook his head, cutting her off. "When I was sixteen, I fell in love," he continued. "She was the daughter of the town's minister, with the purest spirit I'd ever met. I honest-to-God, thought she was an angel sent to save me. I worked my ass off, saved money, and bought a diamond ring to give her at graduation. I was going to marry her, and walk away from my hellish life."

  Dread filled Hannah. "What happened?" She was afraid to ask, afraid to open that door, but she needed to know, and she knew Maddox needed to tell her.

  Maddox dragged his gaze off Hannah, staring past her shoulder at a blank spot on the wall as memories of that night flashed through his mind. He was suddenly back in that moment, that moment when he finally had to stop lying to himself about what he was. "Her name was Beth. My dad was out binge drinking, so I'd made a candlelight dinner for her on the back porch. I had just taken the ring out and gone down on one knee when my dad came home." He could still smell the acrid scent of burning rubber as his dad had careened into the driveway. He remembered his heart freezing in horror as his dad stumbled out. He recalled with perfect clarity that he'd gone absolutely still, praying that his dad wouldn't see them out back. He remembered the flash of absolute fury at himself that he'd been stupid enough to think it would be okay to have the dinner at home.

  "My dad came home. He saw us as soon as he got out of the truck, and stumbled over. He saw the ring in my hand and started yelling at me, cursing me to hell and back, cursing my mother, shouting about how love would destroy everything, and I was a stupid fool to think I could be anything more." He pulled away from Hannah, needing space as all the old emotions came flooding back.

  He stood up, pacing away from her. "Beth was horrified. She knew he was a bastard, but she'd never seen him in a rage. I was watching her face as she watched him, and I knew it was too much for her. She was too pure—" He stopped, trying to stay hard, to shut down his emotions, but the images were too powerful, coursing through him. "Then my dad came on the porch. He... fuck..." He looked at Hannah, who was still sitting on the couch, her face stricken as she listened. "He hit her. He just slammed the back of his hand across her cheek and knocked her down."

  Hannah sat up straighter, looking at him, and suddenly, Maddox didn't want to say anymore. What the hell was he saying? He didn't want to bring that darkness into this room. And he didn't want Hannah to see the rest of the truth, the truth that defined him, not just his father. "So, yeah, I get it," he said, abruptly cutting off the story. "I get how you can have a past that is so dark that you want to rage whenever it comes near you. I know how being with people from that time can bring it back." He turned to face her. "But I also know that without my brothers, I'd be in jail now, or dead, or something worse. Yeah, they're from my past, but having anchors who know the darkness you come from, can anchor you. My brothers are my rock, and if you've got someone willing to be yours, hang onto it." He strode back across the room and sat back down. "Don't hide from Brody and the rest of the Harts. They can help you. Think about it."

  She searched his face for a long moment, then finally nodded. "I'll think about it."

  "That's all I ask." He sat down next to her, relieved to know that she would consider reaching out to her family. He needed to know she had a support team when he left... fuck. When he left.

  He didn't want to leave. At all.

  Shit. How had that happened? But it was true. He didn't want to leave her. Or Ava. N
ot just today. Ever.

  Chapter 15

  “What happened next, Maddox?"

  Hannah's question jerked him back to the present. For a split second, he didn't realize what she was talking about...and then he realized she wanted to hear the rest of the story after his dad had hit Beth. He glanced over at her, at her beautiful, trusting face, and his heart tightened. He didn't want her to know the rest. He didn't want her to look at him the way Beth had. He needed her to look at him like there was hope for his soul. He needed it so badly that it actually hurt. So, he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

  Hannah sighed and wrapped her hand around his arm. She set her head on his shoulder, and snuggled up against him. Maddox froze at the intimacy, his entire soul screaming out for her. He was caught in such darkness that Hannah's touch felt like a salvation, a breath, a chance not to fall into the endless chasm. But he couldn't drag her into it. He couldn't do it again. But he knew he couldn't stand up and walk away, not from this moment, and not from the house when they were finally plowed out. He needed the connection with her too much.

  It had to be her who pulled back, because he couldn't do it. She had to make the choice for him. She had to choose to push him away, and for that to happen, she had to understand how bad he was.

  Hell. He didn't want to do this, but he had to. He swallowed hard, his skin ice cold as he realized there was only one way to make Hannah protect herself from him. The truth. Maddox bowed his head and closed his eyes, his forearms braced on his quads. He didn't want her to know the truth about him. He didn't want to ever see her looking at him like she saw the monster inside.

  But he also knew that for her sake, he had to show her, because he wasn't going to be strong enough to walk away. She was making him want something he hadn't dared want since Beth, even though he knew better.

  "Maddox?"

  He didn't look at her. He just began to talk, his voice ragged as he began to strip away the image she had of him, the one he wanted her to have forever. "When my dad hit Beth, something inside me snapped. I went after him, and my only goal was to kill him. I unleashed seventeen years of hate and fury onto the drunken bastard. I couldn't even think, or see, or even hear anything. I was in a blind rage, and all I wanted was his death." Maddox fisted his hands, remembering that day, that horrific day when he became like his dad. "My brothers dragged me off him. I was still screaming, trying to get free of their grip. My hands were bloodied from punching him, my knuckles torn. I'd even broken my thumb from hitting him so hard. I fought like hell against my brothers, but six-on-one wasn't in my favor. They got me off him, and Chase was shouting at me to look at Beth. So, I did...and everything stopped for me."

  God, he'd never forget the look on her face. "She was back against the railing. She was screaming, her hands clutched over her heart. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she had blood spattered on her nice white dress. My dad was on the ground at her feet. His nose was busted, there was blood everywhere." Maddox wanted to look at Hannah, but he didn't dare. He couldn't handle the expression he knew would be on her face. The disdain. The disgust. Maybe even hate or fear. "My dad was long past being able to defend himself and I was still attacking him. I would have killed him that night with my own fists if my brothers hadn't stopped me. I would have killed him in cold blood. Beth looked at me, and I saw the absolute horror on her face, and that's when I knew. My dad was a monster, yeah, but so was I. She knew it, and we both knew right then that it was over between us. She grabbed her purse and ran, and we never spoke again."

  Maddox remembered that moment when she'd backed away, a look of terror on her face, as if she were afraid Maddox would come after her next. "I let her go," he whispered. "And I never forgot that lesson." He bowed his head. "I still have that ring." He hooked a finger around the collar of his shirt and pulled out a silver chain. Dangling from the end of it was that engagement ring he'd once been so proud of, a ring that had once symbolized his foolish belief that he had a right to believe in hope and light and goodness. Today, the ring had a different purpose. "I still wear the ring as a reminder never to trust myself, never to get too close to a woman, never to let myself feel too much. It reminds me to protect others from the monster that lives within me." He dropped it back under his shirt, but as he released it, Hannah caught it and drew it free.

  His heart started to pound, but he didn't look at her. He just stared at the wall on the other side of the room, his vision blurring. Even though he wasn't looking at her, he was aware of every move she made, of the brush of her fingers against his chest as she lifted the ring to look at it.

  "This is quite extraordinary," she said softly. "How could you afford this as a seventeen-year-old?"

  "I found it in an old thrift shop. The guy held it for me for eight months while I earned the money." He laughed softly, remembering the number of hours he'd poured over the counters at the assorted thrift stores in the area, borrowing his brother Zane's motorcycle to head to nearby towns in his search for a ring worthy of Beth. He knew exactly what the ring looked like without even looking at it. The center solitaire. The six smaller diamonds set on the platinum band. The intricate carvings that wrapped around each stone, almost as if the setting was embracing each stone. "I liked that it was old, that it had a history, that someone had loved it before. I thought the love it carried would protect us." Shit. He couldn't believe he'd said that aloud.

  Her fingers closed around the ring, hiding it in her fist. He looked down at her hand, her small, delicate hand, holding so tightly onto the ring that had once been his beacon of hope and faith in the darkness of his life. No woman had touched it since he'd bought it, and seeing her holding it made something inside him turn over. Silently, unable to stop himself, he wrapped his hand around her closed fist, holding her fingers tightly around the ring.

  "That's beautiful," she whispered. "You're such a romantic."

  "I was, but not anymore." He couldn't take it anymore. He had to know what she was thinking. Slowly, unable to stop himself, he turned his head just enough to see her face...and then froze in shock.

  The expression on her face was such warmth, such kindness, such empathy. She was looking at him as if she wanted to take him in her arms and hold him until his past vanished. There was no judgment, no fear, no disgust...just...God...caring...almost love...

  Yearning pulsed through him, a raw, visceral ache to reach out and draw her into his arms, to lose himself in the energy she was pouring into him. So, he shook his head. "Don't look at me like that, Hannah. My dad's monster lives inside me, and I will destroy any woman I love, just like my dad killed my mom, and I broke something inside Beth that day."

  She shook her head. "Don't do that to yourself, Maddox, You're wrong—"

  "No." He squeezed her hand more tightly, more urgently, almost desperate to make her stop talking, stop saying things that his soul was crying out for. "Never forget what I am, Hannah. I would have killed my own father with my bare hands if my brothers hadn't stopped me." He held up his hands to her. "Never forget the blood that was on these hands, the blood that will be on them again if the monster ever wins again." He looked at her. "My brothers are all that have kept me from adding to the stain on my soul. You have family that will do the same for you. Don't let them go."

  Longing flashed across Hannah's face, a yearning so achingly heart-breaking that he couldn't help but reach out and grasp her hand. "I don't know how to connect with them," she whispered. "I don't know how to trust anyone. I don't know..."

  She was so lost and so vulnerable that something inside him snapped. He'd admired her fierceness and her courage. It made him feel safe to be around her. After his mother and Beth, he was terrified to be around women who were soft, who he could break emotionally, so the vulnerability on Hannah's face should make him want to run away... but it didn't.

  It made him want to be her strength, to hold her, to protect her, to make her strong again.

  Silently, unable to stop himself, h
e traced his finger along her jaw, staring down into her upturned face. "I know what it's like not to trust," he said softly. "But if you pick the right people, it's worth everything."

  "I trusted my mom and Katie. I don't know how to trust anyone else." She searched his face, her dark brown eyes so rich with emotion. "But you make me feel safe," she whispered. "For the first time since my mom died, I feel safe. Is that trust? Do I trust you?"

  Her words touched a chord deep inside him, a chord that was so beautiful that it seemed to swell up and resonate through every cell of his body, breaking through years of rust and shadows until his entire body was vibrating. "You trust me?" He knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn't allow it, but it felt so good, so incredible.

  "I don't know. I just know that I feel safe with you, and that is the most incredible feeling." She laid her hand along his jaw, her gaze steady on his. "Thank you for that, Maddox. Thank you for making us feel safe. We needed it so much, and I didn't even know it, until you gave it to us."

  Warmth flooded him, a deep, longing that came from a place inside him that he'd crushed so long ago. A longing to connect with her, to kiss her, to lose himself in the softness that could come from only one place: her. "I need to kiss you," he whispered, thumbing her lower lip. "Tell me not to."