by Maisey Yates
Since then, his relationship with Ellie was about their coming together to try to fill the gap Clint had left behind. His helping where she needed it.
Helping with the house, with her grief, with Amelia.
That was all.
He got out of his truck on a groan and pushed the door open to the Gold Valley Saloon. It wasn’t too busy, being early on a weeknight, but the locals were definitely out, drinking and playing darts. Sitting around eating fried food and complaining about their bosses and day jobs—which around here often meant livestock.
A rancher was beholden to his animals, and Caleb did know that.
He wasn’t under any illusion that a life raising cattle would be an easy one. But it was the one he wanted.
His dad had wanted better for his sons. He’d said that, in his own words.
Hank Dalton had been poor trash from the trailer park made good. He’d earned himself a whole lot of money on endorsement deals and championship purses in the rodeo, and he’d expected that it would make his sons want to be scholars. Just because they had the opportunity to go to college.
Sadly for Hank, none of them had a very deep abiding interest in higher education.
After Gabe had gone to the rodeo, followed by Caleb and Jacob, he’d seemed to accept that more or less.
But Caleb knew that Hank had been hard on his oldest son.
Sometimes, Caleb wondered if it was because he had the foresight to not want them to be like him.
He hadn’t seemed to possess that level of concern with Caleb.
He’d wanted Gabe to go to college. He’d wanted it for Jacob, too.
He hadn’t even thought for a moment that Caleb would go.
But then...he’d been right. Caleb would have rather had metal rods shoved under his fingernails than continue on in school a minute longer than he had to.
Though whatever Hank did, it might have had a lot more to do with being worried his boys would follow in his footsteps. His bad behavior had caused a lot of turmoil during their growing-up years, but it was recently that the full extent of the consequences became clear.
First with the appearance of McKenna, and then with the revelation that followed about West Caldwell, and about the other as yet to be named half siblings.
All Hank’s infidelity, wandering out there in the world. Mistakes that were more than thirty years old.
Caleb frowned. He supposed that wasn’t fair. To think about other people as mistakes.
For his part, he hadn’t thought much at all about his half siblings. Gabe seemed to feel driven to make it right, and given the fact that his brother was the only person who knew that those half siblings existed back years ago, he could understand why Gabe felt some guilt about it.
Caleb had too much guilt and responsibility as it was, and he couldn’t take any more on.
He saw his brother sitting at a table over in the corner and he made his way over there, crossing the scarred wooden floor and scanning the room as he did.
There were two women who made eye contact with him. Offered him a smile.
And he waited.
For something.
For a lick of interest.
Something to make him feel hot. To make him feel that tug low inside of him. That anticipation of a potential hookup. A conversation that might lead to flirtation, which might lead to dancing and kissing and a whole lot more.
That was part of the problem with taking care of Ellie like he had for the past few years. He hadn’t been interested in other women.
At first he’d put it down to grief. He didn’t like the taste of food. Why would he want sex?
But as the sharpness of the loss faded, he’d started to realize it had to do with the proximity to Ellie.
And that was one of the things that had spurred the purchase of the ranch.
He needed something else. He needed his own life.
The fact that he hadn’t had sex in four years—nearly five—was getting a little bit ridiculous.
And the fact that he’d finally realized that made him a little bit less of a sad sack. Maybe.
“Hey,” Gabe said, nodding and pushing a beer bottle to the center of the table.
Caleb sat down and pulled the bottle toward him.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I see you got Amelia home safely.”
“No,” he said. “I left her in the truck. Told her to play with my air freshener.”
“Well, I know you’re lying, because your truck doesn’t have an air freshener.”
“Why would I cover up the glorious scent of work boots and sweat?”
“Why indeed,” Gabe said, taking a sip of beer. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“How do you know something is on my mind?”
“Because sometimes we happen to get a beer after work. But you rarely make an appointment with me to grab a beer.”
“Yeah, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Caleb said.
“Fire away.”
“I’m leaving the school.” He cleared his throat. “I’m leaving the ranch.”
“Oh,” Gabe said.
“What? You sound...”
“I don’t know,” Gabe said. “I just thought it was kind of a family thing. Especially with West coming...”
“West isn’t family. I mean, he is. Genetically. But he hasn’t earned a place with us as family.”
“That’s not how that works,” Gabe said.
“Yeah, it is. We had Clint. Clint was like family. Because we knew him. Genetics is about the thinnest link I can think of in family. And it’s definitely not necessary.”
“I’m not...trying to replace Clint with West. It has nothing to do with Clint.”
“I didn’t say you were,” he said.
“I guess not. But it sounds to me like you’re worried about it.”
“It’s just that from my perspective, having West on the ranch will give you the help that you need. It doesn’t make it...some family thing we all need to be involved in.”
“Are you...avoiding involvement with West?”
“Nope,” Caleb said honestly. “I don’t really have any feelings one way or the other about the half-sibling stuff.”
“Why not?”
“Because. Because we have a full life. I have a full life. They’re adults. It’s not like they’re children that need to be taken care of.”
“Are you upset about the idea of them getting a piece of the inheritance when Dad dies?”
Caleb drew back. “No. I don’t care about money. I have my own. I might not be rich like Dad, but I had enough to go out and buy my own ranch. That’s what I want. I want to make my own way. I don’t need to take any of Hank Dalton’s fortune.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabe said. “I guess I’m just having a hard time figuring out why you and Jacob are so disconnected from all of this. I can’t be. You love McKenna...”
“I know,” Caleb said. “And it isn’t that I’m not going to make an effort to get to know West. It’s just... I’ve got a new ranch that I want to run, and you know, Ellie will probably still need my help...”
“Is this about Ellie?”
“Why would it be about Ellie?” he asked.
A little disingenuous because he’d just been thinking about the link between her and his celibacy. But it was complicated.
It always had been.
“This is about me,” Caleb said. “You went out and did the rodeo, and now this...this school, this is what you want. Jacob is happy there, too, because he’s with Vanessa. You guys went out, you made your own thing. Why wouldn’t you think that I’d want that?”
He did want it. More than that, he needed it. Needed to prove to his dad that he could make something of himself.
Needed to prove that h
e tried, and that his best was good enough. Damn good enough.
“I guess because Jacob’s plans ended up aligning closer with mine.”
“Yeah, I know that seems surprising.”
Jacob and Caleb had been the hellions. Irish twins and always in scrapes together.
They had gone into the rodeo at the same time, and gotten out at roughly the same time, too. They had decided to get into fighting wildfires along with Clint, because the money was good, and it had seemed like an adrenaline high. Which was something the three of them were all very into.
Of the three of them, it had always been very hard to say which one was the instigator. They had been equal partners in crime, for all of their lives. And losing Clint had been a blow. One that had changed things. Even between him and Jacob. It changed the dynamic. Because they had been the Three Musketeers, and they had become two, and right between them had been a deep, intense sense of mortality that hadn’t existed there before.
Jacob had closed himself off, guilt nearly destroying him, until he’d met his wife, Vanessa. And as for Caleb...
His purpose had become Clint’s memory. Had become his legacy. Caring for Amelia. Caring for Ellie.
But Ellie was getting back on her feet. Ellie was teaching at the school again, back in the saddle of her dream. Building a life that didn’t revolve around what she’d lost. He would always be tied up in that loss. It was inescapable. Utterly and totally.
That was just one of many reasons it was best to take a step back. Perhaps take a step into something else. A different kind of life.
“Not about you, Gabe. I know that might be difficult to understand.”
“It’s not difficult for me to understand.”
“Sure it is. You’re the oldest. And a lot of things happened to be about you. And us following you. But we’re grown-ass men now.”
“Christmas tree farming,” he said.
“Cattle ranching. But I would be a fool not to make the most of the revenue that’s on my land.”
My land.
That made him feel something good. Because he was going to have something. Something that was his. He wasn’t going to work on his father’s ranch. He wasn’t going to follow in his brother’s footsteps in the rodeo.
He wasn’t the disappointment. The son who’d barely graduated high school.
The least of the three. Soon to be the least of more when they found the others, because he was sure he’d find a way to pale in comparison in Hank Dalton’s eyes, even put up against the kids he’d just met.
But now Caleb had something that was his. And it might be a Christmas tree farm.
But from where he was sitting, the idea of being out there, in one of those large flat fields, surrounded by evergreen trees...
Silence.
Yeah, it didn’t sound so bad.
“I want you to have the boys work at the Christmas tree lot,” Gabe said finally.
“What?”
Gabe rolled his eyes as if Caleb had been demanding he rephrase. “Can the boys work at the Christmas tree lot this season? It would give them something else to do.”
“Yeah, I guess it would.”
As much as this whole school thing wasn’t his ideal—hell, that was an understatement; anything to do with school was his nightmare—he did have a soft spot for the boys. Maybe because in some of them he could see himself. Kids who were struggling to do what was so easy for seemingly everyone around them.
And if he could help them out, give them something to do outdoors, show them there were plenty of vocations and passions out there for people who found sitting and reading to be exercises in torture...
Well, that was fine by him.
“Sure,” Caleb said. “How much do you suggest I pay the little devils?”
“Fair wages,” he said. “It’s been good. Physical labor. You know it’s helped.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I know.” He sighed heavily. “I may have other work, too. If you have a kid that is keeping up with his schoolwork, and who might benefit from a little bit more time outdoors.”
“I think Aiden might be a candidate,” Gabe said.
A kid who had come at the beginning of the school year, along with the rest. He was a tough nut to crack, and last month when Vanessa and Jacob had been going through some things, the stress of the tension sent Aiden over the edge. He’d ended up running away from the school.
Jacob had rescued him, because somehow he’d fallen off the trail and ended up halfway down a cliff.
He was an angry kid, and he’d been through the kinds of things that could destroy people who weren’t half as strong. He was a brat.
And they all loved him.
“Yeah,” Caleb said. “That would be good.”
“Well, why don’t I make up a schedule and send it to you? We can debate the logistics of Christmas tree farming. Maybe I can enlist Calvin to paint some signs for your lot. With Vanessa’s oversight, of course.”
Calvin was another kid at the school. One who had discovered he had a little bit of an affinity for paint.
Caleb sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m still part of your bleeding-heart project.”
“Good.” Gabe shook his head. “We are family. You can’t get rid of us that easily.”
“I wasn’t trying to get rid of you.”
It had less to do with his brother than he’d ever understand. It was about him, carving out a path for himself, a life that he’d built. Where he would have something to be proud of. Something to shove in Hank Dalton’s face.
It was easy for Gabe. He’d become a champion in the rodeo. He’d not only denied their father’s desire that they “do better for themselves” by going to college instead of working with the land, but he’d excelled, too.
Jacob had never cared what anyone thought. He’d brushed off their father’s expectations with a cocky grin and extended middle finger.
But then their father had offered to pay for college for Jacob. It had been his choice to refuse it.
Hank hadn’t offered it to Caleb.
But Clint, who had been an effortless straight-A student, had gotten an offer from Hank. And Clint had deserved it.
There was no call for Caleb to be angry that he hadn’t been offered something he didn’t want. But he would show Hank now.
“Let me buy another round,” Gabe said.
“What?”
“To celebrate. Your Christmas tree farm.”
He grimaced. “Don’t say it like that.”
“There’s no other way to say Christmas tree farm.”
As his brother got up to get that next beer, Caleb leaned back in his chair and wondered if he really was insane.
Actually, he knew he was insane. He had a decade of proof on that subject. But oh, well. Insane he was, then.
And apparently, now he was a crazy Christmas tree farmer.
When Gabe brought back the beer, Caleb knocked it back as quickly as possible.
It was going to be a very interesting holiday season, that was for damn sure.
CHAPTER THREE
ELLIE WAS FEELING a bit like a badger by the end of the next school day. Restless, cranky and unsettled.
And she was in the mood to badger Caleb. Because it was the only thing that might manage some of the emotions that were clanging around inside her.
She’d been thinking about his move, and not only the move, but what that meant for her, for nearly twenty-four hours now.
She was still a bit ashamed of herself, and the general possessiveness she felt over him and his life.
The fact that it seemed to shock her that he had dreams and aspirations.
She had never thought of him like that.
He had existed, for so long, to serve her.
And that wasn’t fair. Not really.
&nbs
p; He hadn’t come by her classroom today, either, and she wondered if she had made it so apparent that she was a selfish jerk when he had spoken to her yesterday, that he was a little bit mad.
Of course, the other piece of having a male best friend. He often didn’t pick up on subtext, which meant that he usually wasn’t mad at her when she thought that he might be. Because he hadn’t realized she had done anything that should make him mad. As soon as school ended, she left her classroom, wandering out toward the barn, hoping that she might find Caleb.
She stepped into the structure where it was dim and cool, and heard the sound of mucking stalls. The unmistakable smell of shavings, and the musky odor of horse urine, mingled with dust.
It was a strange smell to feel any sense of nostalgia about, she supposed.
But it was indelibly linked to her joining the Dalton family.
Which she had done the moment she had become involved with Clint.
With that, she had inherited this whole scope of life that she hadn’t even realized existed before.
She’d never ridden a horse, not till Caleb had taken her out on the trails one day nearly eight years ago. There had been something defining about it. Something in the memory that still made her stomach feel tense with anticipation. She could remember it clearly. The exhilaration of riding the horse along the rugged trails, the way they had broken through the trees and come out at the top of the mountain, at a clearing. And the look on his face as he took in the beauty in front of them.
He was a man connected to the land in a way that just seemed to be a part of him.
Of course he wanted a ranch. That was who he was.
His brother Jacob wasn’t like that. Didn’t seem to have the same affinity for it. No, it was more than an affinity. It was like it was in his blood. He was more than a cowboy. He was a rancher. Through and through. A man who needed to spend his life doing this kind of work.
She was the keeper of Caleb’s biggest secret. She should have known all along he would want something like this, knowing what she did.
She’d figured it out a year or so before Clint had died, and she’d felt bad it had taken as long as it had.
She’d realized it watching him fill out a DMV form, of all things. And so many moments from the years had suddenly crystallized.
