Heart Captivated

by Lindsay Bergman

  “Princess of Cattle, maybe,” Logan joked, then sobered up. “I always thought you’d settle down close to home with some cowboy. Not on an island halfway across the world.” He sent me a sidelong look and turned to lean his shoulder against the porch post. “Although I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. You’ve always wanted to travel.”

  “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Trying to keep perspective, I tucked my hair behind an ear and told him, “We’re not even officially dating.”

  “Why not? Does Ashton have some sort of commitment problem?” His protective brotherly tone was noticeable.

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” I waved away his concern and thought about how to explain our love triangle. “It’s … complicated.”

  “Ah, let me guess. Sophie fell for him too, and you won’t do anything to hurt her.” At my surprised look, Logan explained, “Before you two left for the summer, it was pretty obvious that Sophie had fallen for him. Being twin sisters, I can imagine how deeply your loyalty to each other must run.”

  I tapped my nose. “You’ve hit the nail on the head, big brother.”

  “So where does this leave you and Ashton?”

  I sighed and leaned back against the post across from him. “We’re waiting for Sophie to get over him before getting involved.”

  “Do you think he’ll wait for you that long?”

  “I hope so.” Recalling Ashton’s parting words during our last night together, I felt my chest swell with certainty. “I think he’ll wait as long as it takes.” The memory of his kiss invaded my thoughts, so tangible that I could practically feel his lips on mine. I traced a finger over my bottom lip, lost in the memory, and smiled softly.

  Logan stepped over to rumple my hair, breaking me from my reverie. “It sure is nice to see you smile again, Bree.”

  I looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve barely smiled since Mom died,” Logan quietly explained. “I know that losing her was harder for you than you like to admit.”

  “I—I thought I hid it well.” My cheeks heated, and I silently chided myself for being unable to hide my embarrassment.

  Logan smiled sadly, his expression mingled with compassion. “You did hide it well. Uncle Cameron and Sophie never noticed, but my room is right next to yours.” He shrugged a shoulder, and met my gaze meaningfully. “There were too many nights when I could hear you crying through the walls.”

  “Oh … I never realized,” I mumbled, chagrined.

  Logan tugged me into his arms and hugged me fiercely. “Don’t ever be afraid to feel, Brielle. It means you’re still living.” He kissed my forehead, then leaned back to look me in the eye. “Now, let’s head inside so you and Sophie can tell me all about your trip—and if there are any cute Coradovan girls I should know about.” He winked, making me laugh.

  Brushing aside my embarrassment, I smiled mischievously and said, “Actually, we did meet a really sweet girl named Emma …”

  After seven weeks away, the familiar layout of our living room was a comforting sight. The worn, leather furniture was arranged around the heart and focus of the room—a massive, stone-to-ceiling fireplace with a gorgeous stained wood mantle built by my great-grandfather. Dark wooden planks stretched vertically across the long, rectangular room and the solid beams braced in the vaulted ceiling gave it a homey, rustic touch. Eye-catching pieces of antler-themed decor were set in various places around the room, including the grand chandelier dangling from overhead. It was country through and through, decorated by generations of proud cattle ranchers.

  Uncle Cameron gathered us together in the room, then paced quietly in front of the fireplace. He was tall and stout, with a wide chest and weathered face from years of sun exposure. His shade of auburn hair matched perfectly with ours, although it was streaked lightly with gray. His strong, chiseled jaw and almond-shaped hazel eyes were identical to Logan’s. In appearance, they looked so much alike that folks often mistook them for father and son—a compliment which had always made Uncle Cameron preen with pride.

  He paced in silence for another few minutes before finally turning to face us. Always one to be careful with his words, Uncle Cameron quietly explained why he had brought us together. “After what happened with your dad in Coradova, I thought we should sit down and talk about some things from your past.”

  He continued on to explain more about our mother’s cancer diagnosis, the disagreement that tore our parents apart, and how we had moved on with our lives by settling in with him on the family cattle ranch. He explained how our mother had successfully used homeopathic medicine until her cancer unexpectedly progressed to Stage Four three years ago, when she finally attempted the chemo and radiation treatments that couldn’t stop it.

  Finished with his lengthy explanation, he sank down into the plush armchair closest to the fireplace and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. His hazel eyes surveyed Logan, seated in the armchair opposite him, then slid over to where Sophie and I sat together on the long couch. “Now you all know the truth. I wanted to tell you about it sooner, but your mother swore me to secrecy. Now that she’s gone, I felt it was the right time to share it—as well as what happened to the money they saved up to buy a ranch property.”

  His words hooked our attention. Logan straightened in his chair, and Sophie leaned forward.

  I frowned in puzzlement. “I just assumed it went into the ranch or paid for mom’s treatments.” My siblings nodded in agreement.

  Uncle Cameron shook his head. “Sharon refused to use it for treatments—we took out a loan instead. After Jonathan left, she decided to set up a savings account in your names. We didn’t know what would happen with her cancer, and she wanted you to be taken care of. The initial investment was four-hundred-thousand dollars. It’s intended to be split three ways, so you will all have an equal share to do with as you please.”

  We sat in stunned silence. Logan leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his cropped hair. By his serious expression, I knew his thoughts were racing.

  “Wow,” Sophie breathed out. She playfully nudged me with an elbow and joked, “Do you know how many outfits I can buy with that much money? I can build a fabulous closet like Madison’s!” When she caught sight of my expression, she sobered up and murmured an apology. “Sorry, I was just kidding.”

  I smiled dryly, then focused my attention on our uncle. Struggling to keep the emotion from my voice, I asked him, “If Mom had used that money for treatments when she first found out, do you think she could have beaten the cancer?”

  Uncle Cameron’s face softened in understanding, the pain in his eyes a reflection of my own. “Brielle, no one knows what might have happened, and it’s pointless to wonder when we can’t change the past. As much as we all miss her, Sharon is gone. Now all we can do is move on without her.”

  I bit my lip and nodded in slow acceptance of his words. He was right, of course. No amount of wishing would change the past. Logan sent me a sympathetic look from his chair, and Sophie wrapped her arm around me in a gesture of love. The room lapsed into silence, with only the occasional mooing of a cow drifting in through the open front windows.

  After a lengthy pause, I quietly told my uncle, “I don’t want the money. I wish Mom had used it to save herself, instead of leaving it for us. If I’d known about it sooner, I would have used it for her treatments … and then maybe she would still be here.”

  “Brielle, darlin’,” Uncle Cameron said gently. “Don’t think like that.”

  I quickly brushed at the tears that had fallen from my eyes. “I know, it doesn’t matter now because it’s too late.” Drawing in a deep breath, I buried down the heartache and straightened my shoulders. “I still want you to put my share into the ranch. We could use that money to hire more help, or finally build that addition to the barn.”

  “All right, Bree,” Uncle Cameron conceded. “You can use it for whatever you want.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Cameron.”


  He nodded, and the room once again fell into a slightly awkward silence.

  Tapping his hands nervously against the arms of his chair, Uncle Cameron cleared his throat. “There’s one more thing I’d like to discuss. It’s about your father.” He stood and moved to open the back door that led out onto the wrap-around-porch.

  Jonathan Parker filled the doorway, with his stetson in his hands and a hopeful expression on his face.

  The three of us tensed in our seats, but Uncle Cameron sent a stern look our way. “We’ve all spent a lot of years harboring anger and resentment because of the choices Jon made over ten years ago. But now I think it’s time for us to mend fences. Now that your mom is gone, you kids need your dad back in your life. He’s here, and he wants to reconcile.” He looked pointedly at me, then clapped a hand over Jonathan’s shoulder. “At least consider giving him a second chance to make things right.”

  Jonathan nodded and cautiously stepped into the room. His gaze encompassed the three of us, and it was impossible to miss the regret in his brown eyes. “I’m sorry for the way things ended in Coradova, and I’m sorry for my past mistakes. I know nothing I do will ever make up for abandoning you, but I will spend my life trying to earn your forgiveness. Please, give me one more chance.”

  “What do you say?” Uncle Cameron asked softly. “Can you find forgiveness in your hearts? We could all use a new beginning.”

  After exchanging a long look with me and Sophie, Logan rose from his chair and stepped forward. His expression was serious, but open, as he directed his words at our father. “I’m not saying I forgive you. That’s going to take time, and you’ll need to prove to me that you’ve really changed. But I am willing to give you a chance. Uncle Cameron is right: we could use a new beginning.” Logan slowly extended a hand out to Jonathan, who looked down at it in stunned surprise.

  A heartbeat later, Jonathan clasped it in a firm hold and said with a tentative smile, “Thank you, son. I won’t let you down this time.” They shook on it.

  Logan braced his hands on hips and vowed, “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Sophie rose and moved to stand at Logan’s side. She wrung her hands together nervously and glanced at our brother. His encouraging smile was exactly the courage she needed to continue. “I’m not quite ready to forgive you either,” she told Jonathan. “But I know that everyone makes mistakes, and when we do we all deserve a second chance. Now that you’re here, I’d like the chance to get to know you again.”

  Jonathan’s smile was impossibly warm. “I’d like that too, Sophie-bee.” He held his arms open for a hug, and she happily accepted.

  As one, every eye in the room shifted expectantly to me.

  I tried not to squirm under their combined scrutiny, then took another moment to gather my thoughts before rising from the couch. Holding nothing back, I met my dad’s direct gaze. “You broke my heart when you left us, and it’s never been the same since. I’ve struggled with trust issues, and never feeling good enough for anyone, and because of you I didn’t know how to love without fear. I’ve spent the last eleven years trying to forget you, and I swore that I would never forgive you for abandoning us.”

  Jonathan’s face crumpled with dejection, so I gentled my words to say, “But I’ve recently learned that love is worth the risk. If you never take a chance on it, then you’ll never be able to find happiness.” I sighed and rubbed my neck, feeling vulnerable and exposed. “So what I’m saying is that even though I don’t forgive you for leaving us, I’m willing to put aside our past. Even though I was hurt and angry, I’ve never stopped loving you … and I would really like a second chance to be your daughter.”

  “Brielle,” Jonathan whispered in a gut-wrenching tone. With strong emotion written all over his face, he crossed over to me and scooped me up into his arms. “You have always been my daughter, even when I wasn’t here to show you how much I love you. I’m sorry for everything, and I promise to make it up to you. You can count on me this time, Bree-belle. I’m here for the long-haul.”

  When he pressed me close, I allowed myself to relax into him and savor the feel of my dad’s arms wrapped around me. There was no guarantee that this would succeed, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy. But I was glad that I’d been brave enough to take the chance.

  Logan and Sophie drew closer, and for the first time in over a decade, it felt like we were a family again.

  “Now there’s a pretty picture,” Uncle Cameron drawled from nearby. “A father and his children. The way it was meant to be.” He passed out drinks and raised his beer in a toast. “To new beginnings.”

  “To new beginnings,” we echoed.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The months passed as summer slowly merged into fall. By the end of November, the solid canvas of forest-green trees mingled in with shades of gold and burnt orange. White snow dusted the distant mountains on either side of the Bitterroot Valley as cold, crisp air settled in for a long winter. Cloudless blue skies brightened the landscape, adding cheer to a sometimes dreary autumn palette. While the views surrounding my home were often stunning, I missed the turquoise waves and colorful paradise of Coradova.

  In early September, Ashton had joined the Coradovan Royal Navy as intended. We’d kept in contact over the last three months through letters and the rare, occasional phone call. Every so often, Sophie and I would stay up late baking cookies to send him in care packages, along with pictures we’d taken around the ranch and other treats we thought he might enjoy. He’d loved each one, but often commented that the best care package would have been to have me delivered to his ship, wrapped up in a bow. Even though we were thousands of miles apart, his teasing still made me smile. But it also made me long for him with an ache that grew more intense with each passing day. The time apart had begun to take its toll on me after three long months.

  Being away from him was harder than I’d expected, particularly since we weren’t actually in a committed relationship. Letters and phone calls could only do so much. I missed his voice, his dimpled smile, and those ocean-blue eyes that made me feel warm and dizzy at the same time. I missed the feel of his hand holding mine, his arms wrapped tightly around me in a hug, and his swoon-worthy kisses—I’d relived every single one at least a hundred times, maybe a thousand.

  But the more time passed, the more my hope for a life with him seemed to dwindle.

  When I’d first arrived back home, the love between us had been so new and rich with possibilities. It had seemed like anything was possible—even a fairytale romance between a prince and a cowgirl. The specifics hadn’t mattered. Whether we lived in Coradova or Montana, all that mattered was a life together. But over the last three months, the practical Brielle had resurfaced. I’d pondered questions and logistics that had no answers. I couldn’t expect Ashton to follow me here—even as the youngest prince, he still had royal responsibilities. I couldn’t exactly move to Coradova when my family counted on my help to keep the ranch afloat. If we were never together, how could I expect our relationship to survive? With each unanswered question, my hope had grown dimmer.

  Now, after three months apart, my once happy heart was forlorn. The dream of a life with him seemed to grow further out of reach with each passing day.

  With a sigh, I set down Ashton’s latest letter recounting his adventures at sea, and tugged on my cowgirl boots, hat and a warm winter jacket. I had chores to get to that wouldn’t take care of themselves. After feeding the horses and mucking out stalls, I climbed up the ladder that led into the hayloft. I flung open the small square door to expose the expanse of pasture. It spread out before me in a golden field, stretching out across the land to where our small farmhouse sat nestled against the trees.

  From here I could make out the faded green siding that was in need of a new coat of paint, the white plantation shutters framing each window, and the flower bed my mother had lovingly tended before her passing. The metal roof was a bit tarnished, but would last us through several more cold, Montana
winters. As worn out as the old farmhouse was, it was still my beloved home. It was filled with memories as far back as one hundred years, when my great-grandfather had first built it. Good bones and a sturdy frame would see it through many more years, and hopefully many new generations of Parkers. Since Uncle Cameron had no children of his own, he was planning to leave the ranch to Logan; making him the last line of Millers to run the Hidden Creek Ranch.

  Plopping down onto the creaky wooden planks of the hayloft, I swung my legs over the side and settled in for a long, quiet, and chilly stay. My thoughts unsurprisingly strayed to Ashton, until I spotted the red Chevy truck rambling down the dirt road to our house. My dad was bringing his family down for Thanksgiving weekend. Since our reconciliation in late August, we’d met his new family on more than one occasion. Although slightly strained, our meetings had grown less awkward each time. Jonathan had yet to waver in his newfound role as our father. He called us regularly to check in, and offered ranching advice when needed, along with a helping hand. The wounds between us were healing, the fences mending, and the gaps bridged. It wasn’t always easy to allow the memories of the past to remain forgotten, but we were all determined to give this new beginning the very best possible chance for success.

  Letting go of the past was harder for me than my siblings. There was an ache caused by abandonment that I didn’t entirely believe would ever disappear. But what surprised me the most was the day I met my eight-year-old half-sister, Annabelle. Her sandy-blond hair was the same as her mother’s, but her soft brown eyes and high cheekboned face strongly resembled mine and Sophie’s—so much so that it was uncanny. At first I had felt tormented by the sight of a girl who was the miniature version of me. But Annabelle had been thrilled with the news that she had two older sisters, and in no time at all, I had become enamored by her sweet, bubbly and unassuming nature. It was impossible not to love her. Even if I could never forgive my father for the sins of his past, I owed it to Annabelle to give our newfound family a chance.