by Maree, Kay
Ollie’s attention flicked to the side. I turned my head to find Brandon on his knees beside me with a sheen of unshed tears clouding his eyes. My heart ached so damn hard it left me light-headed. I stared for a few seconds before Brandon gave me a gentle smile.
“Ollie?”
“Yes, Mommy?”
I drew him onto my knee and angled him so he could meet Brandon properly. "This is my friend Mr. Nash."
Brandon offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ollie. You can call me Brandon.”
My son placed his hand in Brandon's large one and beamed a wide smile at their 'manly' introduction. Ollie always liked to be treated like a big kid, and this was the perfect icebreaker between the two.
“Miss Carlyle?”
Reality ripped the beautiful moment away. Both mine and Brandon’s attention shifted to the Sheriff.
“This is Patty Spencer. Ollie is currently in her care.”
Lifting Ollie to his feet, I rose to mine and quickly dashed away thick tears.
“Nice to meet you, Louisiana,” she said with a surprisingly friendly smile.
I extended my hand. “Thank you for looking after him for me.” I bit down hard on my back teeth and swallowed before asking the most important question. “Is it just a temporary… situation?”
Compassion flooded her expression. “It is. Rest assured, my husband and I love Ollie as our own. He’s a beautiful and empathetic wee man.”
Pride burst in my chest as more tears threatened. “Thank you. He really is.”
Brandon discreetly cleared his throat. “I, for one, could use a coffee and food.” The irony in his voice wasn’t lost on me, and now that the shock of my son’s visit was receding, I ducked my head to hide the smile that formed.
“You’re more than welcome to join us, Patty, Sheriff,” Brandon offered.
While they accepted, I clung to Ollie and guided him toward the house. My heart was so full it was near bursting.
“Mama, look! A dog!”
I followed Ollie’s pointed finger to where Blue sat at Jake’s heels on the porch.
“Wanna meet him?” Brandon asked.
Ollie’s eyes went wide. “Yes!”
Brandon issued a sharp whistle and Blue immediately ran over and sat where Brandon knelt.
“You can pat him. He’s super friendly—even your mom likes him,” Brandon said with a cheeky wink up at me.
I snorted. “I like Tom better. He doesn’t slobber on me.”
“Who’s Tom?” Ollie asked.
Brandon smiled warmly, solely focusing his attention on Ollie. “My cat.”
A comical gasp came from my son. “You have a cat too?”
Brandon’s genuine laugh created another bout of warmth to bloom in my chest. “I have two actually. And three other dogs, seven horses, chickens, and so many cattle I’ve lost count at the moment.”
“Can we live here, Mommy?”
My eyes cut from Jake, who watched Brandon and Ollie interact, to my son’s face that held a world of awe. I bit down a wash of sadness and forced a smile.
“Only mommy can live here at the moment. But hopefully you’ll be able to visit again sometime?” Hope thrummed through every cell in my body. “That’s over to Sheriff Wilson and Patty though, okay.”
Ollie pursed his lips and stroked Blue a few more times while nodding.
Brandon stood and clapped his hands. “Who’s up for some breakfast?” A moment after he realized what he’d said, he laughed, then cleared his throat. “I mean cookies, right, Ollie?”
My boy cheered and followed Brandon as if he’d visited this house a hundred times before. The smile slipped from my face when I heard Brandon telling Ollie that he can take him for a ride on his horse later today. I wanted to rush over and tell them both that my son wasn’t getting on a horse; the only thing holding me back was that today had to be about making as many happy memories as we could. And if Ollie wanted to ride a horse, then that was what he was going to do.
“Miss Carlyle, a quick word please,” Sheriff Wilson interrupted my thoughts and gestured me into the living room.
Ominous dread pooled in my stomach as I complied. The waves of apprehension immediately ebbed when Jake casually strolled into the room and threw himself onto the couch as if he was oblivious to the goings-on.
Wilson shot him a look of disapproval that bounced off Jake like a ball on the pavement.
“Alone, Jake,” the sheriff added when Jake kicked back.
"Not happening," Jake deadpanned then looked at me for confirmation that I was okay with him in here.
Immediately I nodded and gave a small smile, beyond thankful to have his reassuring presence. It made me feel less alone. Less cornered.
“I’d rather him stay.”
Sheriff pursed his lips yet nodded. "As you wish, Ms. Carlyle."
“Please call me Louisiana.”
“Okay, Louisiana.”
I sat next to Jake, and the sheriff followed my lead and sat opposite us before he began to lay down ground rules. "We will be leaving at two this afternoon to allow Patty and Ollie to get home before dinner. Under no circumstances are you to be alone with Ollie; you must have at least Patty or me with you at all times.”
I opened my mouth to object, but Jake set a placating hand on my forearm. I needed to listen to the conditions, otherwise, my time would be heartbreakingly cut short.
“If it goes well today, I will allow Ollie another visit next month on a day that suits the Spencers. Providing the rest of your time here goes smoothly, we will get you and your son set up in a welfare house in the city so you don’t have to return to your… previous situation.”
Jake stiffened beside me. What Wilson said sure sounded bad, though Ollie and I had never been in physical danger. It was more of a mental mind fuck thanks to my manipulative ex—Ollie’s father.
“Thank you,” I murmured and stood with urgency to leave the room; I was wasting precious time away from Ollie.
Everyone followed me into the kitchen except Jake, and love burst through me to find both my son and Brandon snap their wide eyes up while their hands remained wedged in the large cookie jar.
I arched a brow and leaned forward. “And just what is going on here?”
Brandon waited for Ollie to select a cookie, then straightened and squared his shoulders, speaking for them both. “We are having cookies, ma’am.”
I bit back a laugh and cocked my hip. "Ah-huh?"
The butterflies in my stomach from last night came back with a vengeance as a wide, charming smile slid over Brandon's face. He then offered the jar my way.
“Can’t say I don’t make you breakfast, darlin’.”
Scoffing, I playfully snatched the jar from his hands. “I made these, Brandon, so don’t go trying to steal my thunder.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Lou,” he drawled.
Ignoring the heat rising on my cheeks, I wrapped my arm around Ollie’s shoulders and led him to the dining table. With him perched on my knee and telling me about what he’d been up to over the last eight months, it felt like we finally belonged somewhere in the world. I felt like we were at home.
Brandon
“Can you come home now, too?” Ollie gazed up at his momma in a way that pulled hard in my chest.
I leaned against the door frame and downcast my eyes as Louisiana scooped him up and sat on the swinging porch chair. I heard her large inhale pause for a moment before she let it out slowly, and I discreetly rubbed at the spot where Ollie’s simple request created a deeper than anticipated ache.
Despite them both relishing their sacred day together, I’d dreaded this moment all afternoon.
“I can’t go home with you today, baby. I wish I could, but Mommy still has a bit more work to do here before I’m allowed to leave.”
“Aww.” Confusion scrunched the little man’s face as he tried to process her explanation.
Damn, it was tough to watch, and even as I inspected the toe of my boot, I couldn't escape the weight that hung in the air.
Jake had made himself scarce for the second time today; presumably to check the calving cattle as a way to avoid bearing witness to the goodbye between mother and child. I was grateful that Patty and the sheriff waited at the car to give Louisiana a little space to have a final moment with her son.
She kicked up her legs and swung the chair with Ollie cradled on her lap. Her enveloping hug around his little body portrayed to the world exactly what she felt within—she was in agony just thinking about letting him go.
I watched from under the brim of my Stetson as she splayed her fingers wide on his head and buried her nose into his head of wispy blond locks. After pressing a fierce and lingering kiss to his crown, Louisiana rose while holding Ollie to her chest.
Her features were tight and carefully composed to keep her internal torment hidden. The only giveaway to her true emotions was the torrent of despair playing out in her sorrow-filled gaze that avoided my own and seeing that pain created another wedge to stack in my throat.
Wordlessly, I met her at the top step and guided her down by the small of her back. I didn’t care if the sheriff got the wrong idea. I wasn’t ashamed to show that I had feelings for this momma. And to hell if he didn’t like what he saw.
As it was, Wilson’s expression was as pained as Patty’s, only he wasn’t dabbing his eyes constantly on a handkerchief. The good Sheriff was patient while Louisiana fussed with Ollie’s seat belt until she was satisfied he was safely and securely seated in his car seat. With a final handshake with me and a nod at Lou, Wilson slid into the driver’s seat and while Patty assured Louisiana she would continue to take the best care of her son.
Louisiana’s dams held steadfast while she gave Ollie one last hug and kiss. Her tears remained at bay when she carefully shut the car door and waved cheerily through the window at her boy. She held it together until the sheriff drove out of my yard at a pace that was neither in a hurry nor lingering. The moment the car disappeared from view, Lou’s defenses fell, and fell hard.
I had no recollection of moving, but I found myself on my knees in front of her, my legs either side of hers, crushing her to my chest as harrowing cries haunted the air.
I felt the moment her despair turned to anger while she tried to come to terms with the physical loss of her son all over again.
I took each and every impact with nothing more than a grunt when she kneed me in the balls during the struggle. I’d take all she dished out and a whole lot more for her. Hell, I’d even take on her ex if it came to that.
“Let it out, sweetheart,” I murmured as her physical battle ebbed into heart-wrenching sobs that left me stricken and not knowing what to do.
The ache was real and raw, and fuck, it was the worst type of desolation I had ever felt tear at my soul.
Easing closer so I could encase her with my body as much as humanly possible, I braced when she fell against me with a desperate grip on my shirt. I held her in stark contrast to last night when I got lost in exploring her body. She needed me last night and needed me even more so now.
“I can’t do this anymore, Brandon. It hurts too much.”
The torture in her voice made my gut spasm. “You can, and you will, sweetheart. I’ll help you through, I promise,” I urged with my lips moving against her hair.
“I’ve missed out on so much,” she sobbed.
There seemed to be a lull for a moment where I thought she was settling, but my chest shook when Lou’s body started trembling. Her grief filled the air and had me a little spooked. Never had I heard a woman cry like she was begging to escape on the wind. The sound chilled me to the bone.
Gathering her tighter, I found my balance and rose to my feet with Louisiana in my arms the same way she had carried Ollie mere minutes ago; legs around my waist and head buried against my collarbone.
Lou's vulnerability landed directly on my fondness for her, and having her snuffling into my neck created an overwhelming sense of protectiveness in my veins.
I gritted my teeth as I toed open the screen door, then kicked it wider. I’d be damned if I took a hand off her for a second.
Carefully carrying her upstairs, I hesitated at the landing while trying to decide if it was her bed or mine.
“Yours,” Louisiana whispered as if sensing my internal debate.
Careful not to get my boots on the bedspread, I descended onto the mattress with Lou still in my arms. She didn’t fight for distance—her body simply molded to mine as if her bones were putty. Not knowing what else to do, I squeezed my eyes closed like it would block out her pain and kept running my hand through her hair.
Eventually, she started to quieten and relax, no doubt exhausted from the highly emotional day. I sure as hell felt as if I'd been wrangling in the backcountry without the aid of a horse and a pack of dogs.
When Lou’s breathing evened out and slowed, I paused and listened hard.
Definitely asleep.
With the pace and grace of a sloth, I began extracting my limbs from our tangle. Leaving her wrapped in my coziest blanket, I toed off my boots before quietly carrying them downstairs.
Jake was sitting in the lounge and raised his brows when I strolled in. The stiffness in my shoulders was giving me a headache.
“Here, boss.” He held out a tumbler of clear liquid.
Gratefully accepting the moonshine, I slumped into my favorite armchair. “Fuck, what a day,” I sighed as what little energy I had left quickly evaporated.
“Did you not know he was turning up?” Jake almost accused.
I growled under my breath, then snapped. “Do you think I would have been still in bed if I knew he was comin’?”
Jake remained still, so I continued. “Apparently Wilson rang yesterday evening, but by that stage Lou and I were already at the dance, and I left my phone in the truck. I’m assuming it’s still there because we came home in a whirlwind and I didn’t stop to grab it.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “What happened last night?”
Snorting, I gave him a dry look. “Jolene got inside her head, that’s what. I’ll fill you in later.”
Jake hummed into his glass. "I'm not sayin' you didn't do the right thing by organizing today, Bran, but that was hella rough on Louisiana."
Normally referring to her as jailbird or some other bastardized name, his heartfelt concern was clearer than the moonshine in my hand.
“She needed to see her son again, Jake. It had been almost a year—she missed his fifth birthday, for Christ’s sake.”
He sat forward and rested his forearms on his knees, the tumbler poised between them. "I know, brother. What I'm sayin' is, there have obviously been lines crossed…" He lifted a brow and smirked, because fuck yes, he did catch us in bed naked this morning. "...and I'm askin' as a friend whether you've fully thought this through. Like, really thought, Bran. There can’t be a gray area of convenience now that her son’s been here. Either you get real and decide without a doubt that you want to play happy families, or quit dippin’ your dick in the candy jar.”
“Jesus, Jake!” I ran my hand over my face, wishing the motion would bring me a strike of clarity.
Jake spread his hands, indicating that he’d laid it bare, and it was time for me to do him the same honor.
“I really like her, man. Just like you, her past doesn’t bother me.”
“Respect,” Jake murmured with a thoughtful nod.
I took another sip and tilted my head back as the burn wove down my throat. “I want her to stay,” I stated gruffly. “Her and Ollie.”
The flare then narrowing of Jake’s eyes gave away his thoughts. “Brother, raisin’ another man’s kid ain’t easy. I hated my stepfather for a long time, and all because he took my mama’s attention away from me. Kids are assholes like that.”
He didn’t open up much about his life before crime, s
o this new little insight made the harsh reality crack the potential life I envisioned.
“Did he spend time with you and your siblings?”
Jake sat back and adjusted his already wide knees. “Nah, man. He didn’t do shit apart from turn on the TV whenever he wanted five minutes in the bedroom with her. Enough about that now.” He waved a hand in dismissal, effectively closing the topic.
My jaw worked as I mulled over his words. From what I’d seen of Ollie today, I liked the little guy. His excitement about exploring the ranch had somehow turned on my biological clock, and I found myself wanting to teach him everything I knew about ranching. The way he’d taken to horse riding today left pride ballooning in my chest and tears in Louisiana's eyes. He was a natural.
“Bran.”
I flicked my eyes up to find Jake watching me closely.
“For what it’s worth, you’d make one hell of a stepfather,” he said with honesty hardening the lines in his expression.
Nodding, I took a deep breath then stood, taking my drink with me. I needed to clear my head. Today’s events had rocked me more than I initially thought. Waking with Louisiana in my bed, meeting her son, then wanting them both to stay here with me hit me like a charging bull at the rodeo, and left me equally breathless.
Sure enough, I found my phone in my truck with a couple of missed calls and a voice message. Leaving it on the porch railing to grab later, I then found myself in the barn, inhaling the familiar scent that never failed to restore a sense of calm when nothing else helped.
The sun had begun to set, and while the calving herd in the far pasture had been checked, the mares in foal hadn’t.
Making my way out the rear door of the barn, I sipped the remainder of my moonshine as I slowly strolled through the field without disturbing the horses. One caught my attention at the far end, pacing a little and stretching frequently.
Striding back to the barn, I snagged a bridle and lead off the wall, left my empty tumbler behind, then quietly approached the birthing mare.
If it had been morning, I would have left her out here in the field, but with nightfall not too long away, her and the foal would be safer indoors tonight.
