“This isn’t a high school football game, Brady. I’m not impressed by your offense. I asked you to protect my sister from men like you, not to go ahead and—”
“I want to marry her.” Brady threw that out, and it wasn’t to placate his friend. It came out a whole lot more like a weapon he thought he could use here. “I love her. I’m going to marry her. And I don’t need your permission or your blessing, but I would like it.”
Riley laughed, his gaze much too dark. “Over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged.”
Another laugh. “You don’t want to fight me.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But not because I’m afraid. You and I both know that people started calling you the most dangerous of the Kittredges because you pushed Stephen Crow into a locker in seventh grade.”
“He would be the first person to tell you he had that coming.”
“The point is, it’s not because you moonlight as a ninja.” Brady opened his arms wide, the universal sign for come at me. “We can fight if you want. I already took the hit that was coming to me, but sure. Let’s make it worse.”
“Do you think this is a joke?” Riley demanded, taking another step out of the barn into the cold, gray morning.
“I don’t think it’s a joke at all,” Brady replied. “But I also don’t think it’s really about me.”
Riley scowled. “Are there other two-faced liars who’ve been messing with my sister? Because I’ll handle them too. But then Amanda and I are going to sit and have a talk about what people call—”
“I love you like a brother, man,” Brady said with a quiet ferocity. “But you do not want to finish that sentence.”
They stared at each other, both of them a little too hot in the frigid morning. Brady could see their breath like clouds. Evidence of the temper they were both clearly fighting to keep at bay.
Riley’s chest heaved and his scowl deepened, but he didn’t finish what he was saying.
“There’s something you need to know,” Brady said, holding his friend’s gaze. “I would never have gone behind your back if it was a casual thing. I would never risk a lifetime of friendship for a simple roll in the hay.”
“Good to know you save your deception for big-ticket items. That’s a real comfort.”
That stung, but Brady kept going. “I shouldn’t have done it either way. I regret that you walked in on us like that. I really hope you know how sorry I am. And how much I wish I’d handled things better.”
Riley studied him for a moment, not bending an inch. “But you’re not sorry you put your hands on her.”
“No.” Brady kept his gaze steady. “I’m not sorry about that part at all.”
Riley swallowed hard, then looked away. Away from the house and the mountains that rose up severely behind it, out toward that view of his. That rolling view over the whole of the far valley, where their families had feuded, tended the land, raised up herds and horses, and kept on keeping on without killing each other outright. For generations now.
“The Kittredges and the Everetts have had feuds before,” Brady pointed out. “We can have ourselves another twenty-year standoff, if you like. But I’ll remind you, Amanda’s younger than the both of us. She’ll wait twenty years, and then she’ll knock you upside your head when you’re too old and feeble to do anything about it.”
Riley shook his head, still staring out at the valley. “I don’t really think you should be reminding me how much younger my sister is than you.”
“Fine. A twenty-year feud it is. Good times. I’ll use Thanksgiving to notify the rest of my kin. Isn’t that how it’s done?” He rolled his eyes. “Or we could fast-forward to the part where we ride off into the mountains as enemies, but come down as friends.”
“You don’t need my input one way or another,” Riley muttered, still staring off into the distance. “I got an earful from my mother about how respectful you’ve been. How you’ve asked not only her and my father, but each and every one of us—and my grandparents—to give you the green light. She just can’t stop talking about what a forthright, trustworthy gentleman you are, Brady.”
Ouch. “Riley—”
“But you and I both know that’s not the case.” Riley turned back then, his dark gaze flat. “Because you and I also know that I didn’t walk in on you giving her a peck on the cheek. That wasn’t a sweet little kiss. It was the kind of kiss a man gives a woman he—”
He didn’t finish that sentence either.
Brady stared back at him, refusing to give an inch. “I kissed her like a man who has every intention of marrying her. But Riley. Come on. Do you really want to stand around talking about how I kissed Amanda?”
“I do not.”
“What’s it going to take?” Brady demanded. “You already hit me. I don’t think you really want to talk about it anymore. The good news is, I have good intentions. I’m guessing from your perspective, that’s also the bad news. But I’m running out of patience.”
“Patience?” Riley belted out one of those laughs. “I would not describe anything you’ve done since you got your hands on my sister as patient.”
It was Brady’s turn to laugh, suicidal as it might have been. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Riley ran a hand over his face, clearly thinking about what that might mean. And just as clearly wishing he hadn’t. Then he met Brady’s gaze again.
Two old friends. Possibly bitter enemies.
“Don’t ever lie to me again,” Riley said, his voice dark.
“I swear on everything and anything holy, I won’t.”
Another moment dragged by. Riley’s jaw worked. But nothing else moved.
Finally, he blew out a breath. “I guess this was always going to happen. And I guess it could have been worse. She could have had a teenage rebellion.”
“She could have behaved like we did in high school,” Brady said dryly. “Imagine that.”
Riley grunted. “I’ll pass.”
Brady waited.
“Given that it was inevitable,” Riley muttered, “I’m glad it’s you.”
“Why, thank you, old friend.” He didn’t actually laugh, but it was close. “I believe that’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Riley glared at him, which was better than the flatness. “You ever make her cry like that again, and I’ll take your head off. Let’s be real clear about that. You’re my best friend, but she’s my sister. If there’s a side to take, assume I’m on hers.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
The morning was still cold and gray and raw enough to be called bitter. But when Riley looked at him, Brady was relieved to see that the worst of the darkness had lifted. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was a smile he saw lurking around in there.
“If you’re marrying her, I guess that means you’re part of the family,” Riley said. Grudgingly. “It was one thing, you being only an Everett. You’re going to have to step it up if you want to be one of the Kittredge boys.”
“I don’t want that. I don’t want any part of that.”
For the first time since he’d walked into that barn on Halloween and started swinging, Riley looked downright cheerful.
“We’ll train you up right.” He closed the distance between them and slapped Brady on the back. Harder than necessary. Much harder than necessary. “We’ll get you there.”
“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, brother,” Brady replied.
He and Riley talked a bit more, had a cup of coffee to mark the occasion, and then Brady got back in his truck.
And that was that. He’d done it.
There were nothing but green lights and blessings as he set off down Riley’s dirt road, toward the rest of the valley and the start of Thanksgiving Day.
Brady had spent the past month paying a kind of penance, fighting every minute of the day to keep his hands to himself. He’d wanted to do it, but it had been sheer torture.
Near impossible, som
e days.
He’d kept reminding himself that Amanda deserved to be treated well. Respectfully. And Brady really had known her since she was in diapers. She never had been a roll in the hay, and he never should have treated her like one.
But he was tired of it. He was tired of chaste walks down Main Street. He was tired of that clawing need inside him that he was sure was tearing him up. And above all, he was sick and tired of not being able to call her his.
And then act accordingly.
He’d had vague plans to wait until after the holidays, but as he left Riley’s, he decided that he’d waited long enough. He’d spent this whole year waiting, period.
For the time to pass. For his brothers to magically come around to his way of thinking. For his fury at his dead father to go away.
He been waiting and he’d been waiting. He’d come here thinking his life was on hold for a while, not that it would have to change completely. That was why he hadn’t changed it. He’d been here in body, but not in spirit.
Just as Gray had always accused him.
Then in the course of two months, everything had changed. She had changed him. Everything was different now. Brady most of all.
He could barely remember who he’d been even back at Ty and Hannah’s wedding at the end of August, when little Amanda Kittredge had worn a dress he’d tried his best not to look at too closely, out there in the sweet grass behind the Everett ranch house.
He’d been waiting his whole life. He was tired of waiting.
He was ready for his real life to start.
Right now.
22
Amanda woke bright and early on Thanksgiving morning, agitated.
Her mother didn’t expect her until around eleven, so the bright-and-early part meant only that she was wide awake and all alone, staring up at her ceiling with nothing to do but stew in her agitation.
It wasn’t fun.
She stayed in bed as long as possible, first trying to sleep again. Then thrashing angrily around. Then lying there, furiously staring at her ceiling.
After the joy of all that wore off, she got up and took a long shower until even that became too much. Or maybe it was that the water went cold.
But then, dressed hours too early and sitting there, fuming, in the living room that felt a lot less cozy and cute now that she kept seeing Brady all over it, Amanda decided she’d had enough.
“Enough,” she kept saying, out loud. And not under her breath.
She stomped down the icy stairs outside—but she respected the ice, so she stomped slowly and with precision—and she jumped into her car. Then she headed out over the hill. She didn’t see a soul as she drove over the cold roads, and that somehow made the restless thing inside her worse. More acute.
As she crested the hill, it was like looking out over the history of her family. Brady’s family too. And that made her even madder.
So many lifetimes were tangled up in these fields, and yet here they still stood. Her life was minor in comparison. She hadn’t set out in a covered wagon to an unfamiliar land. She hadn’t homesteaded through a Colorado winter. Her ancestors had made things work. Even her parents’ marriage, the one her brothers still complained about, had worked out in the end. They’d made it work.
Why couldn’t she?
Amanda was halfway down the county road toward the turnoff for Cold River Ranch when she remembered that the last time she’d visited the ranch, it had been Halloween.
You can’t do that again, she told herself firmly. Especially if this time, you’re the one attacking Brady.
She pulled over and sat there by the side of the road for a moment. Then she turned her car around. Maybe the best thing here was not to go in guns blazing, making a big deal out of everything, and essentially announcing to the entire Everett family that she was very much the overemotional, overdramatic teenage girl they all probably still thought she was, anyway.
Maybe the best thing here was to take a breath. To regroup.
Amanda took one of the dirt roads. This one skirted around what had once been Abby’s family’s farm, headed up into Everett land, then led into one of the lower Kittredge pastures. When she got to the pasture, she took a different dirt road, this one more of a scenic route. It wound around and would eventually drop her on the county road that led to her parents’ house.
When she saw the truck in the distance, still out in the network of dirt lanes, she sighed. Because it was inevitably going to be one of her brothers, and she didn’t want to deal with any of them. And because she couldn’t think who else could be driving around out here on private property, early in the morning on a national holiday.
But as the truck drew closer, she saw that it was Brady.
Her foolish heart thumped. Hard.
Custom dictated that since she had the smaller, more maneuverable car, she should pull off to the grassy bit on the side to let his much bigger truck go through. Instead, Amanda slammed on her brakes and stopped. She threw her car into park, switched off the engine, and then climbed out.
She wasn’t surprised when Brady did the same.
She walked toward him, keeping her eyes on him, not the vast sky overhead, heavy with the threat of snow. She didn’t look at the land all around them, rolling winter fields giving way to the forest land, then the evergreen march up the slopes of the steep mountains.
It was hard to get more private than out here in the middle of nowhere, with no one around for miles and miles.
“I’m done,” she told him, when they were a few feet apart.
And Brady laughed.
That felt unduly aggressive. Amanda scowled at him until he stopped.
“I’m tired of this,” she threw at him. “I don’t want to not hold hands, and talk on the phone, and then sit around hoping that my stupid brothers behave for once when they won’t. I don’t know why they’re a part of this discussion at all. I liked things the way they were before. I don’t understand why you got punched in the face and turned into some … Victorian.”
“I’m not a Victorian.”
“Do you have a concussion?”
“If I did, it probably would have gone away by now. Or killed me.”
“That’s not comforting, Brady.”
“I told you I didn’t want to sneak around anymore,” he said. “And I think you’re forgetting this, but neither did you.”
Amanda made a frustrated noise. “Surely there’s a middle ground between the naked late nights after the Coyote and supervised strolls that would make every pastor in the Longhorn Valley proud.”
“I can think of a decent compromise.”
But Amanda wasn’t done. “I don’t like you making decisions that you expect me to go along with when you can’t be bothered to talk them over with me. I don’t think you’d like it much if I did it to you.”
He started to answer, but she cut him off.
“And we can talk about the breakup barn like it’s funny, but you really were ending things with me. The only reason you didn’t is because I drove out to your house like a psycho, invaded your family’s home, and started yelling at everyone. Then you muttered something about courting me, and we never addressed the subject again.”
Brady was staring at her like she had a selection of heads, and that only made her more agitated.
“We address the subject all the time,” he said. “What exactly do you think we’ve been waiting for?”
Amanda flung open her arms because the only witness was the Colorado sky. She had a big mood on. “I don’t know!”
“I needed every single one of your brothers to get on board because you think they’re a barrier to the life you want to lead,” Brady said. With exaggerated patience. “Now they’re not. You’re welcome.”
“I already decided they had no say over my life. I was demonstrating it. I didn’t need you to drag us through the whole thing all over again.”
“It had to be done.”
“You keep saying that, but you won
’t say why.” She shook her head at him and felt the cold wind pick up, slicing into her. “I think you didn’t like the fact that for once, the golden child quarterback of the high school football team wasn’t universally beloved. You didn’t like the fact that this time, your education and your charm and all your usual weapons couldn’t do you any good.”
“Wrong again, killer,” Brady drawled, though his gaze on hers was hard. “First of all, if my usual weapons worked out here, Gray would have sold the ranch a year ago. Second, I work with numbers. I’m methodical. When I close a deal, I like to make sure there are no loopholes. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
She told herself it was the cold that was making her fidget, and making her throat feel tight. “Right. Closing a deal. That’s very romantic.”
He looked almost surprised.
The agitation in her seemed to swell, expanding like a wave, until Amanda had to face the fact that she wasn’t agitated. That was fear threatening to knock her sideways. She’d been avoiding this conversation for weeks, and now she’d forced it.
But it might kill her to drag herself through another day, not knowing.
She was still afraid of what she might hear. But she reminded herself that she’d grown up on horses. Which was to say, falling off horses. Amanda had been practicing falling on her face and eating dirt her whole life. Getting up again hurt sometimes, but she’d always done it. She would again.
Even if Brady flattened her, she’d find her feet. One way or another.
What she couldn’t do was stay stuck in this limbo any longer.
“You used the word courting.” It also might kill her to actually say this out loud. At least then she wouldn’t have to worry about falling or climbing back up. There was that. “You’ve made the whole town think you mean marriage. But you can be honest now. Here. Is that what you really want?”
She didn’t want to ask that. Because she still didn’t want to know the answer.
Brady looked even more shocked. “What?”
Amanda ignored her own queasiness. “You wanted to end things. Then Riley walked in, and you had to make it right. He caught you, so your intentions had to be good. It’s like a shotgun wedding, but I’m not even pregnant.”
The Last Real Cowboy Page 30
