Jace and Bree barely tolerated one another’s presence. She took every opportunity she could to tell him she didn’t think he had a place in Blythe’s life. That wasn’t exactly the way she put it, but he knew that’s what she meant.
“Blythe’s family is perfectly capable of taking care of her,” she’d say. “You don’t need to be here every day. Let her get back to a normal life.” That was something Bree worked into almost every conversation she had with him. What was a normal life for a single twenty-three-old woman who was pregnant with someone’s baby who no one knew where in the world he was? If it hadn’t been for Blythe, Jace would have been perfectly happy forgetting Bree existed.
“Never seen a woman rattle you that way,” Billy goaded him.
“She doesn’t rattle me. She makes my skin crawl.”
“Whatever,” Billy smirked.
“You ready to get back to work? If not, I’ll let you gossip with the girls sittin’ over there.” Jace motioned toward the barn, where Renie, Blythe and Bree sat watching them.
Billy started to laugh. Jace wanted to knock him into the dirt. That would happen soon enough. This weekend they’d be in Pueblo and the horse Billy was due to ride had bucked off its last fifteen riders. Jace was as thankful he hadn’t drawn that horse, as he was to see Billy eat a little dirt.
The baby was kicking up a storm. Sometimes it hurt, but most times it tickled. Like it was now. Blythe started to giggle. Renie and Bree were used to it. If she was laughing and rubbing her belly, they knew why.
“Can I feel?” Bree asked her.
“Of course, you don’t have to ask. I don’t like strangers touching my belly, which happens more than you’d think, but you can whenever you want.”
Bree ran her hands over her sister’s stomach, marveling at the miracle of pregnancy. She and Zack had talked about having a baby, but they’d both agreed to wait a few more years to start a family. Bree had wanted to finish her degree, and Zack didn’t want to risk being deployed while she was pregnant.
Sometimes she wished they hadn’t waited. That she was the one carrying a baby. Other times, she couldn’t stand to think what it would’ve been like for her baby to never know his or her daddy.
She and Renie talked about it. Renie told her that she hadn’t realized, until Billy made her face it, how hard it had been to grow up not knowing her father.
Bree had also talked to Liv about it. She talked to Liv a lot. There wasn’t anyone else who understood what Bree was going through the way Liv did. Liv’s husband, Renie’s father, was shot down in the Gulf War a few months after they were married. There were days that Bree felt so alone, and those were the days she’d call Liv. As Bree had, Liv had gone back to live with her parents after her husband’s death. Liv had been one who encouraged Bree to consider getting her own place.
“It’ll help you get your own life back faster,” she’d said. “You need to do that, you need to move on. Fall in love again.”
Bree didn’t know about moving on, or ever falling in love again. She’d had the miracle of falling in love with the man she believed was her soul mate. She doubted she’d ever find anyone she felt that way about again.
She heard a car drive up and turned to see it was Lyric. Things would get interesting now. They always did when Lyric was around. She never hesitated to say exactly what was on her mind, which usually resulted in the four of them, Renie, Blythe, Lyric and Bree, laughing hysterically.
They formed their own tight-knit circle. Renie wasn’t around as often, between finishing school and raising Willow, who was growing like a weed. She was eighteen months old, walking and talking like a little lady. More miracles, thought Bree. They surrounded her.
Jace watched Blythe playing with Willow. The sight filled him with joy. When she was around the little girl, she never stopped smiling. She told him she was worried about what kind of mother she’d be, but Jace knew she’d be a great one. All she lacked was confidence. Once the baby, her baby, was born, she’d be too busy to over-think herself.
Her baby. Not their baby. As close as he felt to her, and as much as he loved that bundle growing inside her, the baby would never be his. He’d be Uncle Jace. The idea of it bothered him more than it should.
He shook himself loose of the thought, only to find Bree watching him. He watched her too, when she wasn’t looking. What was it about her that irritated him so much? He couldn’t figure it out, but every time she opened her mouth, he found himself wanting to throttle her. Uncle Jace and Aunt Bree; neither of them were going anywhere. He wondered if they’d ever get along. He doubted it.
“I wanna do a spotlight on you and Billy this week,” Lyric told him. “Him retiring, you getting started on broncs. I think our followers would like hearing the two perspectives from guys who travel together. That’s weird on its own.”
He’d heard that Billy never had a travel partner when he was competing hardcore. Jace figured it was because no one wanted to be around the guy. But he’d also heard that Billy believed it was bad luck. They hadn’t talked about it, but Billy was riding great, so evidently he’d stopped believing his own superstition.
“Sure, Lyric. You know that. We’re happy to talk to you anytime.”
“Great, thanks! Oh, and Bree is going to sit in on it too. She’s got some questions of her own.”
Jace wished Lyric had told him that before he’d agreed to talk with her. If she had he would’ve pushed Billy into the interview, but bowed out himself. The less he had to talk to Bree, the better.
Lyric had an ulterior motive in setting up the interview. Once they’d gotten what they needed for RodeoChat, Bree was going to throw in some questions about twin connections, and whether Jace believed in it the same way other twins had reported. Lyric was prepared to add in enough of her own story to keep Jace talking.
Everything worked like a charm, the way it usually did when Lyric was involved. Soon Billy got up and left, since no one was asking him any more questions.
“When was the first time you realized you knew what your brother was thinking?” Bree asked him.
“I don’t know, exactly, it was always that way. Not so much that I knew what he was thinking, more it was what he was feeling.”
“Do you know what he’s feeling now?”
He did, but he wasn’t sure he could put it in words. Conflicted was the best one he could come up with, but that wasn’t anywhere near strong enough.
Bree asked him more questions, mainly about how it was when they were growing up. She asked if they’d ever talked about the connection they shared.
“All the time,” he laughed. “Especially when we met your sister.” Why had he said that? He didn’t want to talk to Bree about this.
“You both love her, don’t you?”
The way she said it, Jace had to respect her. Like she was in awe of feelings that powerful.
“We do, but not in the same way.”
“It’s exactly the same way,” she murmured.
Yep, she was right, but he’d never admit it out loud. He had a hard enough time admitting it to himself.
“What if he never comes back?”
“I don’t know. I don’t like to think he won’t. Maybe after the baby’s born.”
“Do you think he knows how you’re feeling? About Blythe I mean? Do you think he knows you’re in love with her?”
She wasn’t going to give up on this. She kept probing the same topic, from a differing directions.
“I’m sure he does.” There, he’d as much as admitted it. Didn’t change how Blythe felt though.
“How do you do it?” Again, she was speaking so softly, he had to lean in to hear her.
“What choice do I have?”
“You could leave too.”
“Never.” It was that simple. He’d never leave. He promised Blythe he’d be there for her and the baby, forever. It wouldn’t matter if she tried to push him away, he’d always be in their lives.
As hard as it was for Bre
e to admit, she admired him. Jace Rice was a good man, and her sister was lucky to have him in her life. She’d watched them, and Blythe was careful when she was with him. She never did anything that Bree believed would make Jace think she felt anything for him other than sibling affection.
She wondered if Jace would ever allow himself to meet someone else, fall in love. And how would Blythe react if he did? This was the real subject of her research. She was masking it in the story about extreme sports, but that wasn’t what fascinated her. She wanted to explore two twins, in love with the same woman.
As much as she wondered what might happen if Jace found someone else, she also thought about what would happen if Tucker suddenly reappeared. How would Jace handle it? He and Blythe were so close, could he walk away?
“You got another question for me, or are we finished here?”
“What if he comes back?”
How could he answer that question? He missed his brother so much he ached. He also ached with empathy for Blythe. And what would it be like if Tucker did come back? His damage would remain. It might even be harder on Blythe if she came to the realization that Tucker would never allow himself to love her and the baby unconditionally, the way Jace knew she loved him.
Tucker’s love would always have one condition. He’d never stop believing that it would be wrenched away from him. He’d always hold a part of himself back, or even all of himself, because of what happened on Thanksgiving, all those years ago.
“Jace?”
He hadn’t answered her, and he didn’t plan to. “We’re done here,” he said as he stood and walked away.
“How did it go?” asked Lyric.
“He said he thought Tucker was conflicted.”
“I’m beginning to think it’ll work better in the opposite direction.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that Tucker needs to feel what Jace is.”
“He loves her.”
“That’s what I mean. Tucker is going to know Jace is in love with her. That might bring him back. I have a feeling that’s what happened before, at the National Western. She and Jace were gettin’ pretty close, and then in walks Tucker.”
That made Bree mad at him all over again. Why did he keep putting himself in this position with her sister? He didn’t seem like a stupid man, but his actions certainly were.
***
Tucker dreamt about Blythe almost every time he closed his eyes. The more he drank, the weirder his dreams got. They were becoming illogical, jumbled up things he couldn’t understand.
He still dreamt about another woman, but often, as it had when he drew her on Thanksgiving, she and Blythe melded together, and became the same person. At least now he understood why.
***
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Bree heard Lyric say when she walked into the house.
“Jesus Bullet. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Bree kept walking to her bedroom; she didn’t want to intrude on Lyric’s conversation.
“I can’t help you with this one bro. You’re on your own. I warned you the last time I wouldn’t intervene again.”
Bree closed her door and put her ear buds in. Lyric’s voice was getting louder the longer she was on the phone.
The last thing she heard her shout was, “Fucking idiot,” before she heard what sounded like the front door slamming closed.
It was a couple hours before Lyric came back, and when she did, she acted as though nothing was wrong.
“Blythe is ready to move, let’s go help her pack.”
“She is? That’s news to me.” Bree didn’t mind; there was plenty of room in the four-bedroom house. It surprised her since she and Blythe hadn’t talked about it being a possibility.
“You didn’t walk in on her argument with your mom like I did.”
Bree wasn’t surprised to hear they were arguing. She’d always been the one who got along best with their mom. Blythe was daddy’s little girl, and Brooke—Bree wasn’t sure if Brooke was close to anyone. She’d always been the most independent of the three of them.
“I’ll head over there and see if I can smooth things between them.”
“I still think she’ll be ready to move in here.”
“Okay, come with me then. I don’t think she has that much to pack, we can do it all in an hour or two.”
“Hold up, I want to change rooms first.”
“Why?”
“The room I’m in shares a bathroom with the room we aren’t using. Blythe should have my room.”
“Again, why?”
“We gotta start thinkin’ about settin’ up a nursery Bree. Jeez, for somebody who seems so dang smart, you sure are slow about certain things.”
Bree laughed. She was getting used to Lyric yanking her chain. She liked it in fact. She tended to take herself a little too seriously sometimes. Lyric didn’t have any trouble bringing her back down to earth.
“Don’t just stand there, come help me.”
***
Jace had been looking at houses whenever he had the chance. He’d only mentioned it to Blythe once, and she shot him down instantly. It was too much for her to think about, he understood that. But sometime soon she was going to have to. Time wasn’t standing still. She needed to figure out where she and the baby would live. He wanted them to live with him. That was the only way he could help her the way she’d need him to.
“What are you doing?” Jace asked when he walked up and saw Bree and Lyric carrying boxes to Lyric’s car.
“Movin’ her to Palmer Lake,” Lyric answered.
“Wait. Why?”
“She’s ready.”
“But she’s going to have to move again.”
“What are you talking about?” Bree’s arms were full of clothes, still on their hangers. She looked back and forth between Jace and Lyric, who were both standing empty-handed.
“Could one of you open the car door for me?”
“Of course, sorry.” They both moved to the car door at the same time. Lyric stepped back and let Jace open it.
“Now, what were you talking about? Something about Blythe having to move again?”
“Don’t worry, I switched rooms. We’re ready for her.”
“What are you talking about?” Jace was ready to pound his head against the side of the house.
“I moved out of the big room, the one that’s connected to the smaller one. It’s got a bathroom between them.”
“But she and the baby aren’t going to be living there.”
Bree was almost in the house when he said it. She stopped where she was.
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re going to live with me.”
There had to be smoke coming out of her ears, she was so mad. “What is with you? Have you ever, once, considered asking anyone else what he or she wants to do? Or are you in the habit of making decisions no one asked you to make?”
“Blythe and I have discussed this.”
“You have? And what did she say about it? Because the last time I checked, she was the one who told us she wanted to move to Palmer Lake.”
Jace stormed in the house, looking for Blythe. He found her sitting on the bed, crying.
“Oh no, what’s wrong,” he said, sinking to his knees in front of her.
“Why can’t we find him? Why won’t he come home?”
He wished he had an answer for her. But he didn’t. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer so her head rested on his shoulder. When she did, she started to cry harder.
“What have you done now?” Bree asked from the doorway.
He ignored her.
“Blythe, honey, what’s wrong?” Bree sat down on the bed next to her sister and rubbed her back.
“Tucker,” Jace spit out.
Tucker. No matter how angry Blythe got at Jace, she was angrier with Tucker. How could he have left? He hadn’t even said goodbye.
Oh God. Oh no. Bree felt as though her che
st was suddenly caving in. Just like Zack. Tucker left like Zack had—without saying goodbye. She had no control over the tears that started spilling from her eyes.
What was Bree crying about? Jesus, he had his hands full with Blythe. “What’s wrong with you?”
Bree opened her mouth as though she was going to say something, but turned and left the room instead.
“You shouldn’t be so mean to her,” Blythe whispered, her tears subsiding.
“I’m not mean to her.”
“You are. I’ve never seen you be mean to anyone Jace, but you’re mean to my sister. She lost her husband a few months ago; it would do you good to remember that. You could be kind, you know.”
Blythe wiggled herself free of him. “Go apologize.”
Ah crap. The last thing he wanted to do was go apologize to Blythe’s bitch of a sister, but he supposed he had to.
“Go,” Blythe shoved at him.
He had no idea where she’d gone. He looked through the house and didn’t see anyone. Just when he was about to go back and tell Blythe that Bree had left, he saw her, huddled on a bench on the back deck. Her head was down, but he could tell by the way her body shook that she was still crying.
He opened the sliding door and crept out. “I’m sorry.”
“Go away Jace.”
“Can’t do that. I made you cry, and I didn’t mean to. So I’m here to apologize.”
“You didn’t make me cry. Don’t give yourself that much credit.”
If it were up to him, he’d go back in the house, but if he did, and Blythe saw her sister still crying, she’d be mad.
“Come on now,” he knelt down in front of her, the same way he had with her sister. He put his hands on her arms and pulled them away from her body. He kept pulling until her head rested on his shoulder. As he’d done with Blythe. She didn’t wrap her arms around him, but she didn’t move away from him either. She kept crying, and he let her.
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