Stay with Me (Cowboys of Crested Butte Book 4)

by Heather Slade

  She’d think about the time she spent in Idaho, when she was trying so hard to mourn her dead husband. How ridiculous. All she would have had to do was come here. Every day, she walked around in a state of mourning. Every day, she was reminded of her profound loss.

  There had been a time when she and Zack talked about coming back to the academy. So many grads did. In fact, the current superintendent was a grad—a woman, and a three-star general. She was the first woman named superintendent of the prestigious institution. The commandant was a grad too. He was a one-star, and a pilot. The head of the department where she taught was a grad too. He was a colonel.

  Some of them had been deployed. Some had even served in Afghanistan. They’d come back though. Unlike Zack.

  Sometimes she’d let herself imagine what it would have been like if he had. He would’ve been down at the airfield; she would’ve been up on the hill during the day. Maybe they would’ve met on the terrazzo for lunch, in the shadow of the iconic, landmark chapel.

  There would’ve been parties they would’ve gone to together. She would’ve joined the spouse’s club. And when they had children, they would’ve gone to school on the academy grounds.

  That’s what they would’ve done if Zack had come back. But he hadn’t.

  Bree was babysitting tonight, so Tucker and Blythe could have an evening out to themselves. When she walked in the back door of the house, Tucker was waiting for her in the kitchen.

  “Hi,” she said softly. “What’s wrong, Tucker?”

  “Come, sit down,” he said.

  Bree’s hand covered her mouth, her eyes filled with tears, and she started to shake.

  He walked over to her and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, Bree. Relax. Nothing happened. Everyone is okay. I wasn’t thinking. Come. Sit.” He pulled her over to the table.

  She couldn’t stop shaking. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I should’ve thought this through.”

  “Just tell me what it is, Tucker.”

  “It’s Jace, honey. I’m worried about him.” He rubbed her back when she put her head on his shoulder.

  “Why?”

  “Can’t explain it, but I think it has something to do with you.”

  Jace was losing the ability to differentiate one town from the next. And traveling with rough stock was much different than traveling as a saddle bronc rider. As a rider, he’d pull into town, pay his entry fee, cover a bucker or two, and more often than not, collect a check. Afterwards, he’d grab something to eat and a beer with the other cowboys, get a good night’s rest, and in the morning, head to the next town.

  Now he pulled in, unloaded bulls and broncs, made sure they were fed and secure, and then he’d head to the motel, get a few hours of sleep, wake up, and tend the stock again.

  Other than the towns, the only other thing that changed was his travel partner. Billy, Tucker, and Ben rotated shifts. Ben’s brothers were responsible for the bulls and broncs that stayed behind in Crested Butte, and Bullet and Billy’s dad covered the ones in Monument. Jace’s dad, along with their ranch manager, Yance, handled the stock still in Montana.

  The end of the season was in sight, although it wouldn’t last long. Once the Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association’s, or PRCA, National Finals were over, around mid-December, they’d have three or four weeks before the first events would start up again with the Professional Bull Riders, or PBR.

  He didn’t remember what it felt like to sleep in his own bed, or eat a home-cooked meal. He did go “home” between events, sometimes to Crested Butte, sometimes to Monument, less often to Montana. And while he did get a home-cooked meal when he was in either place, he was usually so exhausted that he’d unload the broncs and bulls, eat whatever was put in front of him, and then fall asleep on the closest unoccupied bed.

  The only good thing about his perpetual exhaustion was that he was often too tired to dream. When he did, his dreams only plagued him.

  On the road, driving the endless miles between events, he’d get lost in thought, and his mind would drift back to the night he’d spent with Bree. The memories were so vivid. He could remember how her lips felt, trailing over his bare body, or how it felt to be buried deep inside her. He could picture the look on her face when they made love, and hear her soft moans of pleasure.

  When he and Billy were on the road, Billy would go back to the hotel to call Renie after dinner, and Jace would go to the bar. There, he would meet cowboys he knew from his time on the circuit, but being around them made him feel like an old man. Most of them were in their early twenties.

  There were plenty of girls, but they were just as young, if not younger. Once or twice, he’d agreed to a dance, but nothing more than that. Holding them in his arms felt wrong. They’d rub themselves against him, and that felt worse. Sometimes he’d get so disgusted he’d walk away, leaving them standing on the dance floor alone.

  Eventually he stopped going to bars. When Billy, or Tucker, or Ben went back to the hotel, so did he.

  “You’re a grouchy sonuvabitch, you know that?” Billy said to him one morning at breakfast. Jace didn’t answer. He kept eating. “Take a few weeks off. Go home.”

  “I’m good,” he answered.

  “Bullshit,” Billy snapped.

  “Drop it.”

  When Billy didn’t, Jace got up, threw a twenty on the table and walked out of the restaurant.

  Billy caught up with him, and Jace felt like punching him.

  “We gotta talk about Thanksgiving,” Billy said. “We were scheduled in Nebraska, and I’ve pulled out.”

  Thanksgiving. As soon as Billy said the word, he knew what was coming next. Crested Butte. The whole family. Not just his family and Billy’s, but Bree’s family too. Which meant Bree would be there.

  If he thought he was miserable now—he’d be willing to take the bulls and broncs to Nebraska alone to avoid spending Thanksgiving in Crested Butte.

  It was like a damn Disney movie, being around all of them. He and Bree would be the only two people there who weren’t happily married, with at least one child between them and others on the way. It made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

  Bree would be there, wouldn’t she? As much as he prayed she wouldn’t be, the other part of him, his heart, prayed she would be. He knew, down to the day, how long it had been since he’d seen her. Did she? Did she think about him at all? Or had she moved on?

  The last he’d heard, she’d be teaching at the Air Force Academy. That was before the school year started, but he didn’t have any reason to believe she would’ve done something different. If she had, he wouldn’t have known. No one talked to him about her. And he didn’t ask.

  There was one other person he longed to see as much as he longed to see Bree. He hadn’t seen Cochran since September. He’d been on the road, and had missed his first birthday.

  He could’ve gone, but that would’ve meant Billy and Ben would’ve had to be on the road at the same time, and Jace didn’t want them to have to be.

  Bree had been there; his mother showed him the pictures. She looked good. In every picture, she had a smile on her face. In most, she was gazing at Cochran, and he could see the love she had for their nephew. But he saw something else: the haunted look. He’d seen it before, back when she first got word that Zack had been killed in action. It would creep in at other times, when she was lost in thought and he knew she was thinking about her husband.

  Was anyone paying enough attention to notice? Was Blythe, or her parents, or Lyric? Was Bree haunted in silence? He hoped not.

  What was he doing? Why did he always make his way back to worrying about her? She didn’t need him. She’d made that clear. And here he was, the idiot who thought he saw something in her eyes that no one else did. She’d get a kick out of that. He had no idea how he would face her on Thanksgiving, after her dismissal of him the last time they were together.

  Bree was glad Tucker op
ened the back door when he saw her coming. Her arms were full, and she didn’t want to set any of the packages down in the snow.

  “Can you believe this weather?” he asked when she got inside.

  “It’s either ninety degrees or snowing. Autumn in the Rockies, right? Have you heard whether Monarch Pass is open?”

  “Last time I checked, it was, and the weather is supposed to get better, not worse.”

  “There’s Aunt Bree,” said Blythe, staying close to Cochran, who ran to his aunt.

  He started walking right after his first birthday and spent most of his time either falling or bumping into something. He probably wouldn’t have as many scrapes and bruises if he’d walk. Instead, he ran everywhere he went. Tucker laughed about it, but it wasn’t Tucker who bandaged up the majority of his boo-boos, amidst heart-wrenching tears.

  Bree scooped him up and showered kisses all over his little face, which made him giggle and kiss her back.

  “Bwing pwesents?” he asked, eyeing her packages.

  Bree sat him down on the floor. “There might be a couple for Cochran, but the rest are for Caden and Willow, okay, baby boy?”

  He nodded his head and studied the pile of packages with awe. “Fow Caden and Willow,” he repeated, a little pout forming.

  Bree set the other boxes aside until she unearthed one with Cochran’s name on it and scooted it in his direction.

  “This one is for you, sweet boy,” she smiled at him.

  “Open?”

  “Yes, you can open it.”

  Blythe started to intervene, but Tucker put his hand on her arm. “You know how she is, let her be,” he whispered.

  Bree looked up at them and was relieved to see her sister and Tucker smiling at her. She loved spoiling her nephew, and would have been devastated if they told her to stop.

  “Look, Mama,” said Cochran. “Dada twactah.” He pointed to the green miniature of Tucker’s John Deere tractor. He climbed on and rode it around the kitchen.

  “There are as many for him as there are for Caden and Willow. I just want to spread them out over the weekend.”

  “Aren’t you going to be here for Christmas?” Blythe looked as though she might cry.

  “Of course I am,” answered Bree. “These are Thanksgiving presents.”

  Tucker put his arm around Bree’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “What are we going to do with you?”

  “Let me be. Isn’t that what you told Blythe to do?”

  “Can I put these in the truck?”

  “Yes, please, and I’ve got a bag in the car. I’ll follow you out.”

  Tucker held out his hand for her keys. “I’ve got it,” she heard him say as he walked out the back door and closed it behind him.

  “I have news,” Blythe said when Bree turned back around.

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “Jace is coming.”

  Bree took a deep breath. This wasn’t unexpected news. She was glad he was. She hated to think he might not spend Thanksgiving with his family. Especially if his not doing so had anything to do with her. That would’ve broken her heart.

  “There’s more…”

  Oh, no. Was he bringing someone with him? Why hadn’t she thought of that possibility? And she was here already; it wasn’t as though she could suddenly change her mind about going.

  “I just thought you should know, since you’re going to be in the car with us for five hours, and we might have to stop a lot.”

  “What?” She hadn’t been listening. What was Blythe talking about?

  “It’s early, but I took a test this morning, and it’s official. I’m pregnant again.”

  Bree let out a cry of glee and put her arms around her sister. “Oh, Blythe, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. And for me—another baby to spoil!”

  Bree looked away, hoping that, when she looked back, the look of pity on Blythe’s face would be gone. If this was her destiny, to be the world’s greatest aunt instead of a mother herself, so be it. No amount of pity would change the cards she was dealt.

  14

  Bree sat in Liv and Ben’s kitchen and looked out at the view of the ranch. Everyone had something to do but her. Until their mamas put them down for naps, Bree had had the babies to play with, but now that they were sleeping, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

  Blythe was resting. The five-hour drive from Monument to Crested Butte wore her out. Tucker and Ben were out in the barn, tending to the livestock. She had no idea where Liv and Renie had disappeared to, and didn’t know when her parents were arriving.

  She pulled her iPad out of her bag and opened an e-book, but she couldn’t focus enough to read. No one had said when Jace and his parents would be arriving, and she didn’t want to ask. The thought that they might be driving into the ranch at any moment was an inescapable distraction.

  “There you are,” said Liv, joining her in the kitchen.

  “Where was I supposed to be?”

  “Nowhere. It was so quiet I thought maybe you were resting too.”

  “No,” Bree answered wistfully. “I have more time to rest than you all do.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Liv winked.

  “Was I wishing for something?”

  “Have you talked to Jace?”

  Bree didn’t appreciate Liv’s implied segue between wishing for something and asking her about Jace. In fact, it annoyed her.

  “I don’t have any reason to talk to Jace.” Bree stood and slammed the cover closed on her iPad.

  Liv rested her hand on Bree’s shoulder. “Yes, you do. If nothing else, the two of you are friends. I know you care about him, and I also know he cares about you. If there are two people who need to talk to one another, it’s you and Jace.”

  “There’s something you should know, Liv. I accepted your challenge that night. I walked over to the Villa, to join Jace for dinner. He was otherwise engaged, chatting up a pretty girl at the bar. As for being friends, Jace Rice is my brother-in-law. He’s not my friend.”

  “You know it isn’t that simple. As for what you saw that night, there is always the possibility that it wasn’t what it seemed. I stand by what I said a minute ago—you and Jace care about each other, and you do need to talk.”

  Liv was grinning. Grinning!

  “You’ll see for yourself soon enough. Whatever you’re picturing between Jace and me exists solely in your imagination.”

  “I’m not the only one who sees it, Bree.”

  “Soon you’ll all realize there isn’t anything to see.” And when they did, maybe they’d stop pestering her about him.

  She hoped they weren’t doing the same thing to him.

  “I hope you’re hungry. We’re going to a wonderful new place in town, called the Sunflower. It’s a farm-to-table restaurant.”

  She wasn’t hungry, and she had no interest in going along. “I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind.”

  “I do mind.” Liv pulled Bree back over to the table. “Sit.”

  Bree sat.

  “I’m not letting you hide out this weekend.”

  “Just because I don’t want to go to dinner doesn’t mean I’m hiding out.”

  “Does your mother let you get away with this crap? Because I can tell you, if I was spewing the bullshit you are right now, she’d be all over me about it.”

  Bree looked up at Liv, and saw she was smiling again.

  “I’m glad you think this is funny—you with your idyllic life, married to a man who thinks you walk on water. And your grown, beautiful, also happily-married daughter,” she waved her hands around. “Not to mention all this. It’s easy to cajole me when you have it all, isn’t it, Liv? How about you leave me alone instead, and while you are, remember what the last couple of years have been like for me.”

  Bree’s eyes filled with tears, and she wished she could take back every ridiculous word that had just come out of her mouth, but it was too late.

  “I’m sorry, Bree, but the last pers
on who is going to indulge your self-pity is me. I’ve lived the life you’re living now for twenty years. I won’t sit back and watch you live it for half as long.”

  “It was different for you.”

  Liv raised her eyebrows. “Please, elaborate.”

  “You had Renie.”

  “Ah, I see. I wasn’t all alone.”

  Bree stared out the window.

  “It changed for me when Renie went to college. I suppose that was when I really started feeling sorry for myself. I was a forty-year-old woman, with what looked like a very dull life ahead of me. That’s what your mother saw, a woman believing her life was over. Can you imagine the tragedy that would have been?”

  Bree nodded her head but still hadn’t turned to look at Liv.

  “The only thing worse I can imagine is a twenty-seven-year-old woman believing her life is over, when really, it has barely begun.”

  “Let me ask you this. Be honest. If Ben died today, would you start over? Would you put yourself out there, believing you were going to find someone else?”

  Liv didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine.

  “It would be very difficult to think I could find someone after Ben. You’re right about that. But from the outside, looking in, I see things so differently. I understand your mother’s frustration with me, why she pushed me so hard to get back out there and live a life less isolated. Watching you, I want to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you.”

  “I need more time,” Bree said quietly.

  Liv put her arm around Bree’s shoulders. “I know, sweetheart. Just be careful how much more turns into.”

  The place where they went for dinner wasn’t very big. When they walked in, Bree wondered if they would have room to accommodate everyone in their party. When she overheard one of the owners welcome Liv and Ben, and then saw him turn the open sign to closed, she realized theirs would be a private party.