Stay with Me (Cowboys of Crested Butte Book 4)

by Heather Slade

“Good to have your kitchen so close.”

  Carol put her hand on her son’s shoulder and kissed the back of his head. “I love you, sweet boy.”

  “You might be the only one who does these days. You and Daddy.”

  She swatted his head, the place she’d just kissed. “Oh, Jace. That’s a load of nonsense and you know it.”

  “I don’t know ’bout that, Mama,” he muttered.

  “You got some amends to make, boy. Once you have, your life will come back together the way it’s supposed to.”

  It wasn’t only his estrangement from his twin brother that troubled him. Jace was beginning to think he’d never find the kind of love his parents had. For a long time, Tucker believed he wasn’t worthy of love. Maybe it was Jace who wasn’t, and that was the reason he kept falling in love with the wrong women.

  “Would you like to see some pictures of the sweetest grandbaby in the whole world?”

  “You know I would.” Jace took the phone from his mother’s hand and scrolled through the latest photos from Blythe. His nephew was getting so big. As he swiped his finger across the screen, one photo made him stop. Blythe’s sister Bree held the baby on her lap. Her head rested against his, and her eyes were closed. Her arms were wrapped around him, and he leaned into her, as though it was the most comfortable place in the world for him to be.

  Jace’s arms ached. He longed to hold the baby, but it was more. He longed to hold Bree, too.

  It had been important that he be the one to tell her what happened with the accident. And, when he had, she accused him of wanting her to smooth things over between Tucker and him. That wasn’t it at all, but he hadn’t bothered to try to convince her otherwise. If she’d felt any of what he was feeling, she would’ve known that wasn’t why he told her.

  When he closed his eyes, he could see those arms, the ones she had wrapped around baby Cochran, folded in front of her. She’d closed herself off to him that day. That was the reason he left the way he had. And never looked back.

  Even when she had texted him pictures of the day Cochran was born, he didn’t respond. He couldn’t. If he did, he might be tempted to…to what? Ask her if she could forgive him? She’d think he’d lost his mind if he had.

  Instead, he ignored her. He needed to get Bree Fox out of his head. He closed his eyes and started to hand the phone back to his mother, but he stopped and took one more look. He couldn’t help himself.

  “I hear Bree is leaving Monument.”

  “What’s that, Mama?”

  “I talked to Blythe yesterday. She’s torn up about Bree leaving town.”

  “What do you mean? Where’s she going?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe you should give her a call yourself and ask her.”

  He shook his head. Was she kidding?

  Carol sat down at the table, across from her son. “I’m serious, Jace. Why don’t you call her? I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

  He waited until his mother went into the other room, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and scrolled through the contacts until he found Bree’s number.

  2

  “Thanks for driving me to the airport,” Bree said to her mother.

  Paige Cochran was her rock. Blythe was daddy’s girl, but Bree belonged to her mama. She could count on her mother to understand how she was feeling, often without her having to say a word. It was true when she was growing up, and it was true now.

  She gazed out the window at the pond just off County Line Road, a visible landmark from the interstate. “Whenever I drive by this spot, I feel like I’m leaving home. It’s this same place that welcomes me back.”

  “I know what you mean,” answered her mom. “Nothing ever changes on this stretch of land.”

  There were several thousand acres north of the road that separated Monument, in El Paso County, from Douglas County. The original homesteaders gave the land to the State of Colorado, with the stipulation that it be open space for two hundred years. The only buildings visible were part of the original ranch. Family members kept the operation going, so there were still cattle and horses on the land.

  They were almost at the turnoff for the Denver airport before either of them spoke again.

  “Are you renting a car in Hailey, or is someone from the ranch picking you up?”

  “I decided to rent a car. It’ll be easier that way.”

  “Don’t spend all your time off on your own, baby.”

  Her parents sat her down, the day before, and told her they were worried she’d isolate herself.

  Bree had spent most of the past couple of months with Blythe, Tucker, and the baby. The camaraderie of being with her sister had been good for her in some ways, and not good in others.

  “She’ll spend all her time out on that river,” she overheard her father say.

  “She needs to, Mark,” her mother answered. “She knows what she’s doing.”

  Her mother told him Bree needed this time to mourn the loss of her husband. Zack hadn’t been gone very long when Blythe was in a terrible car accident, one in which she’d almost lost her life. Shortly after, Blythe realized she was pregnant.

  Instead of grieving her husband’s death, Bree took care of her sister. She let herself get caught up in the drama that swirled around Tucker and Jace Rice. Consequently, she hadn’t spent any time dealing with her own.

  “Thanks for understanding, Mom,” Bree said as she hugged her mother on the curb at the airport drop-off.

  “I do, baby. Otherwise, I’d be going with you.”

  It wasn’t until the plane was in the air that Bree felt truly alone. It was a feeling she’d been craving. No one on this plane knew her. She doubted anyone at Idaho Rocky Mountain Ranch, where she was headed, would remember her, and that was the way she wanted it.

  Instead of staying in the main lodge, Bree booked one half of a two-sided cabin for the month of June. July and August were busier months, although the ranch manager had assured Bree she could stay longer if she decided she wanted to.

  Bree’s parents needn’t have worried about her being off on her own too much, since her only option for meals at Idaho Rocky Mountain Ranch was to join the other guests and ranch hands in the main dining hall.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Bree looked up into the greenest eyes she’d seen since the last time she saw Jace Rice. “Of course,” she answered, moving her tray out of his way.

  “Red Dugan’s the name.”

  “I’m Bree, uh…Fox.”

  “You sure ’bout that?” he chuckled.

  “Yes, sorry.” Bree extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Dugan.”

  “It’s Red, young lady. I heard a rumor somewhere that you’re heading out to do some fishing later this morning.”

  “Not much later. In fact, I planned to leave in a few minutes.”

  “If you can wait until I finish my oatmeal, Miss Fox, I’ll take you to one of my secret spots.”

  “Please, call me Bree, and sure, that would be…nice.”

  “You’re saying you can keep a secret, then, right?”

  Bree rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll be able to.”

  Red reminded her of someone’s sweet grandpa, and as much as she’d prefer to be on her own, tomorrow would be a good enough day to start her sabbatical.

  Bree climbed in Red’s truck after he put her rod and other gear in the back.

  “You sure I can trust ya, girl? Could always blindfold you on the drive over if you’re afraid you’ll tell.”

  “I promise,” she crossed her heart, “that I will never divulge your super-secret fishing spots.”

  “Good thing, since the only thing I could’ve blindfolded you with is this old bandanna that’s been in this truck since the day I bought it. We’re talkin’ twenty years or so.”

  “Ew,” Bree cringed and looked out the passenger-side window.

  Red didn’t speak again until he pulled off the main highway onto an unmarked dirt road.

 
“There’s been some talk about naming this old road Dugan’s Way, but I put the kibosh on that brilliant idea.”

  “Sounds like your secret’s out already.”

  “This way,” he said, pointing toward the woods.

  A ten-minute walk later, Red stopped at the edge of a tributary of the Salmon River.

  “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

  The water was high, and a deep shade of blue. The grasses along its edge were green, but not as dark in color as the pine trees that rose above them on either side of the water. The same breeze Bree felt on her face, moved the clouds quickly across the blue Idaho sky. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, remembering the last time she fished in an area not far from here.

  “How long you been fishin’?” Red asked.

  “Since before college. About ten years. It was something my husband and I used to do together.”

  “But not anymore?”

  “My husband was…” Bree’s eyes filled with tears.

  Red held up his hand. “You don’t need to say another word, young lady.”

  Bree shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m not used to talking about it. My husband was in the Air Force. He was killed in Afghanistan last year.”

  Red closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “I lost my brother in Vietnam. Never got over it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I am too. War is hell. There’s nothing that describes it better. I miss him every day, even after all these years.”

  “I understand,” she said softly, thankful to talk about his grief rather than her own. Bree closed her eyes and focused again on the breeze on her face.

  “There isn’t a minute that I don’t miss him,” she whispered after a while. The tears were back, but she didn’t try to fight them. She was here to mourn Zack, and she couldn’t keep burying her feelings. She’d never be able to move on if she didn’t allow herself to acknowledge her pain. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To move on?

  “Tell me about him.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Your young man, tell me about him.”

  Bree took a deep breath. She hadn’t planned to talk about Zack to anyone. But if she was going to grieve, she needed to talk about him.

  “I met him when I was fifteen,” she began. “At church.”

  Jace pulled his phone out of his pocket for the umpteenth time, but he couldn’t bring himself to hit the send button and place the call to Bree. He put it back in his pocket and pulled out a pair of pliers instead. He’d been working on one particular section of fencing all morning, but instead of focusing on what he was doing, his mind was on Bree.

  He was just about finished when he saw his father’s truck pull in through the ranch gates. He’d been in Texas, picking up a year-old bull, which had been sired by Little Yellow Jacket, and his dam was Cowgirl Trash. That lineage made the bull worth every penny of the $15,000 they paid for him.

  Jace left the fence unfinished and went to meet his father at the barns. With the bull being so young, Jace was more worried about the older bulls picking on him than him being the troublemaker, but you never knew. He’d keep a steady eye on him for the next few hours, and pen him off to himself for tonight, at least.

  “Long drive, Daddy?” Jace rested his hand on his father’s shoulder.

  “Not too bad. I stopped in Monument, but you already know that, don’t ya?”

  “Yeah, I know you did.” Jace walked toward the trailer.

  “Hold up, there, a minute,” said Hank. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Has anything changed with Tuck?”

  Hank hung his head and shook it. “No, Jace. It hasn’t.”

  “Ain’t me refusin’ to talk to him. You’re barkin’ up the wrong twin.”

  Jace’s mom came flying out the front door and ran into his father’s waiting arms. He spun her around and gave her a kiss that made Jace blush. That was what he wanted, but doubted he’d ever have—a love so strong that after thirty years, their kisses were still as passionate as when they met.

  His father distracted, Jace slipped away from the conversation he didn’t want to have anyway and opened the back of the trailer to unload the bull.

  “Gotta come up with a name for ya. Somethin’ fierce is what I’m thinkin’.”

  “You talkin’ to bulls, now, instead of your daddy?” Hank was following Jace into the barn. “And don’t you go sayin’ the bull’s got more sense, or I’ll clip you one.”

  Jace laughed. “No, I wasn’t gonna say anything like that. But, can we table the Tucker talk? I got nothin’ to say on the subject, and I doubt he did either.”

  “Your mama and I aren’t giving up, Jace. You and your brother need to resolve this thing between the two of you. You’re both hurting. In the meantime, you’re missing out on seeing your nephew grow up.”

  That was the hardest part for Jace. His brother’s baby was eight months old, and he still hadn’t met him.

  “How is Cochran? Growin’ like a weed?”

  “He looks just like you.”

  Jace laughed again. “Tuck and I are twins, in case you forgot. I’m guessin’ he looks more like his daddy than me.”

  Hank raised his eyebrow. “I could tell the difference between you boys from the minute you were born. And I’m tellin’ you; he looks like you, Jace.”

  “What do you think of Cowgirl Stinger as a name for this one?” Jace pointed at the bull.

  “I like it,” his father smiled. “Seems fitting.”

  “Yeah, I like it too. Who knows, maybe it’ll be a female bull rider who’ll be the first to cover him.”

  His father put his hand on Jace’s arm. “I’m not letting it go, Jace. We’re gonna talk about Tucker, and we’re gonna do it right now.”

  Jace sat down on a bale of hay and settled in for the lecture he knew his daddy was going to give him. Once Hank Rice got something stuck in his craw, there was no dissuading him until he got whatever he had to say off his chest.

  The dinner bell rang, a half hour later, otherwise his daddy might’ve talked all night. Both he and Jace knew better than to keep his mama waiting when dinner was on the table.

  “What news from Monument?” asked his mother not five minutes into their supper.

  “Well, Carol,” his father answered. “There’s a fella in Larkspur I want to go see, and, Jace, you should meet him too. Ty Rinaldo is his name.”

  “Heard of him. He’s got a good operation goin’ down there. But, Daddy—”

  She rested her hand on his arm. “Jace Porter Rice.”

  Jace knew, when his mama used his full name, he’d best keep quiet. Why was it he’d thought living so close to his parents would be a good idea?

  “As I was sayin’,” Hank continued. “TZ Bucking Bulls has been a family operation for three generations, and Ty’s gotten in good with the National Western Stock Show. That’s something I’d like us to be a part of. Next year, if we can make it happen.”

  Jace wondered if he could come up with an excuse good enough to get out of going to Monument. He doubted it.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, Jace heard a raucous coming from the barn. He pulled on his Wranglers and stuck his feet in the boots that were always near his bed. When he got outside, he saw his father headed toward the barn from the other direction. The bulls had broken through the pipe fencing, and there was a fight going on.

  In his rush to get to the pen, Jace tripped when his jeans caught on a piece of the broken pipe. When his leg twisted around, he felt a pain he’d hoped never to experience again. The pain was ingrained in his memory, and he had no doubt that an MRI would simply confirm what he already knew. He’d just torn his ACL. Four years prior, he’d torn it skiing. At the time, he doubted he’d ever ski, or ride a bull or a bronc, again in his life. It had been a long road of rehab, most of it self-prescribed, but he’d done it.

  Given his injury, Jace and his dad postponed the trip to Larkspur indefinitely. Han
k wouldn’t be able to leave the ranch until Jace recovered, and that might take weeks.

  Jace got up and put the brace on his knee. The news hadn’t been as bad as he initially thought it would be. The ligament wasn’t torn completely, only partially. It wasn’t any less painful, but the recovery would be much easier. And quicker.

  He’d dodged a couple of bullets. One, with the injury itself, since it wouldn’t require surgery. And two, by getting out of a trip to Monument.

  He heard his mother downstairs, puttering around in his kitchen. She came by every morning to make him a pot of coffee and a hot breakfast. She also left lunch and dinner for him to heat up later.

  Getting downstairs was painful, but Jace was determined to sleep in his own bed on the second story of the ranch house. If he stayed downstairs, he’d be forced to sleep on the couch, and if he did that, his back would hurt as much as his leg.

  “Mornin’, Mama.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  “How’s the leg?”

  “Sore. But better than it was yesterday.”

  “You take anything for the pain?”

  “Not yet. Gonna try to get by with over-the-counter stuff today. I don’t like the way the prescription medicine makes me feel.”

  She set a plate of bacon and eggs on the table in front of him.

  “You don’t have to come over and make me breakfast, you know.”

  “I know, but I like to do it.” She sat down in the chair across from him. “I’m worried about you.”

  “I’ll be okay, Mama. It’ll take time to heal, that’s all.”

  “It isn’t your leg I’m worried about, Jace. It’s your heart.”

  Jace wanted to tell her he was fine and that she shouldn’t worry about him, but he couldn’t. “Me, too,” he said instead.

  Bree leaned over and picked up a rock near the side of the stream. She and Red had been fishing at different places on the Salmon River for a couple of days. Bree wouldn’t have minded going off on her own, but Red was easy going, and she got used to being with him.