Beautifully Broken Spirit

by Catherine Cowles

  Beautifully Broken Spirit

  Catherine Cowles

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Jensen

  2. Tuck

  3. Jensen

  4. Tuck

  5. Tuck

  6. Jensen

  7. Tuck

  8. Jensen

  9. Tuck

  10. Jensen

  11. Tuck

  12. Jensen

  13. Tuck

  14. Jensen

  15. Tuck

  16. Jensen

  17. Tuck

  18. Jensen

  19. Tuck

  20. Jensen

  21. Tuck

  22. Jensen

  23. Tuck

  24. Jensen

  25. Tuck

  26. Jensen

  27. Tuck

  28. Jensen

  29. Tuck

  30. Jensen

  31. Tuck

  32. Jensen

  33. Tuck

  34. Jensen

  35. Jensen

  36. Tuck

  37. Jensen

  38. Jensen

  39. Tuck

  40. Jensen

  41. Tuck

  42. Jensen

  43. Tuck

  44. Jensen

  45. Tuck

  46. Tuck

  47. Jensen

  48. Tuck

  49. Jensen

  50. Tuck

  51. Jensen

  52. Jensen

  53. Tuck

  Epilogue

  Bonus Scene

  Enjoy This Book?

  Blogger Master List

  Acknowledgments

  Also Available from Catherine Cowles

  About Catherine Cowles

  Stay Connected

  BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN SPIRIT

  * * *

  Copyright © 2019 by Catherine Cowles and The PageSmith LLC. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Editor: Susan Barnes

  Copy Editor: Chelle Olson

  Proofreading: Julie Deaton

  Paperback Formatting: Stacey Blake, Champagne Book Designs

  Cover Design: Hang Le

  This book is for Emma, a.k.a. my wormhole twinsie. I’ll be forever grateful the universe brought you into my life and that I get to go on this crazy writer journey with you. And because you were excited for Tuck and Jensen before I’d written a word of their story.

  * * *

  And, as always, for my dad. I carry you with me on every step of this journey. Eternally grateful to be your daughter.

  Prologue

  Jensen

  PAST

  The wind lifted my hair off my neck, swirling it around my face. It carried with it the calls of birds overhead and the scent of the surrounding pine trees. I stared out at the fields around me. They dipped and rolled, meeting up with forests that ran into snow-capped mountains.

  My palms pressed into the rock beneath me. This was usually one of my two favorite places in the world. My boulder on the five hundred or so acres that my parents had gifted me on their ranch in the hopes that I would make my home here. This was the place I came to when I needed to think. To get away. To daydream. To feel peace.

  Now, I felt nothing. Just a radiating numbness that seemed to make my fingers and toes tingle, the same way they would if they’d fallen asleep after sitting in the same position for too long. God, I wished I were sleeping. That the past three months had been nothing but a nightmare.

  Tears tracked down my cheeks. I did nothing to try and staunch the flow. I kept hoping that, eventually, I’d be all cried out. That there would be no more tears left to cry. And when that happened, I’d miraculously know what I was going to do.

  “Little J, I didn’t know you were back from college.”

  The rough voice jolted me out of my thoughts, and I quickly did my best to wipe my face. I stretched my mouth into a bright smile—the same expression I’d been forcing so often lately, it felt as though my face might crack in two. “Hey, Tuck. Surprise trip.”

  Tuck’s gaze traced over my face, and his angular jaw, dusted with dark blond stubble, went hard. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Just getting a little peace away from the crowd at the ranch house.”

  Tuck rounded the boulder, his broad frame crowding me, dominating the seemingly infinite space. “Little J…”

  I gave him my best mock scowl. “Stop calling me that. I’m not exactly little anymore.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands. “I’m well aware. Now, stop trying to change the subject. You’ve been crying.” He glanced in the direction of the ranch house. “Do you want me to go get Walker?”

  “No!” Of course, he would offer to get Walker. My brother had been Tuck’s best friend since before the two could talk. And the three of us had practically grown up together. But the last thing I wanted in this moment was my brother.

  Tuck settled himself next to me on the rock. “Jensen.” His use of my full name had tears pooling in my eyes again. He pulled me into his side and wrapped his arm around me, giving my shoulder three quick squeezes. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m in trouble.” The words came out in a hiccupped staccato beat as I tried to hold in the sobs.

  “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

  I shook my head. “I’m pregnant.”

  Tuck’s body went as rigid and still as the stone we sat on. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I whispered.

  Tuck shot up. “I’m going to kill that fucker.”

  The sobs came in earnest then, wracking my body.

  “Shit, I’m sorry, Little J. Come on, don’t cry.” Tuck wrapped both of his arms around me this time, holding me tight to his chest. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “Cody left me.” I sucked in a breath. “He doesn’t want me or the baby.” I curled myself into a ball against his chest. Tuck’s warmth enveloped me. He was comfort. Home. I never wanted to leave this spot. Because here, there was no judgement about the fact that I hadn’t even completed my freshman year of college, and I was pregnant and alone. No judgment that I’d fallen prey to the pretty words of a handsome senior boy. That I’d thought he loved me.

  Tuck’s lips brushed my hair. “That makes him one seriously dumb fuck.” He kept his voice quiet, but I could hear the rage simmering beneath the surface.

  I burrowed deeper into Tuck’s hold. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  He pulled back, tipping my face up to his with a single finger. “What do you want to do?”

  I looked into his pale blue eyes, having no answers. Our gazes held, the seconds ticking by. “I want to go see the herd.”

  Surprise flickered across Tuck’s expression before a gentle smile pulled at his mouth. “You got it.” He stood, offering me a hand. “Come on.”

  Tuck led me towards his truck, parked just on the other side of the fence that separated our families’ ranches. The same two families who’d founded the town of Sutter Lake a century ago. I loved the history of this land, and that it held all my roots. I’d always planned to build a home and family here, and I’d thought I found the man I was going to do that with. But I was so wrong.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, at
tempting to force the thoughts from my brain. My lids opened as Tuck released my hand to launch himself over the fence. I shook my head. Always the show-off. I opted to duck between the rails. Tuck was there to offer me a hand as I straightened.

  We were silent on the hour drive to the national forest, Tuck seeming to sense that I needed more time to put my thoughts into words. That was the thing about my friendship with Tuck—we always accepted each other just as we were. No pretense or pressure. When we were together, we could just be.

  As paved roads turned to unmarked gravel paths, I still didn’t have any answers. Tuck pulled off the lane, shutting off his truck. “You up for walking?”

  I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “I’m pregnant, not dying.”

  Tuck rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what all pregnancy affects.”

  I reached over, giving his shoulder a pat. “It doesn’t affect my ability to walk.”

  “Then let’s get walking.” Tuck jumped from his rig and rounded the vehicle before I could fully get my door open. “Careful.”

  I rolled my eyes. My brother and Tuck had always been overprotective. No bullies on the schoolyard dared turn their cruelty towards me. Boys rarely asked me out for fear of the threats Walker and Tuck had leveled on the one who had. I went to prom with my AP bio lab partner, who was more interested in dissecting frogs than what might be under my dress.

  Maybe if Walker and Tuck hadn’t been so overprotective growing up, I wouldn’t have been so damn gullible, falling for the first guy with pretty words and a charming smile that I came across. And if I’d thought they were overprotective before, I had a feeling pregnancy would take things to a whole new level. I sighed. It wasn’t their fault. There was no one to blame for my situation but me.

  I lowered myself to the ground without Tuck’s help. He scowled. “I’m fine, you grumpy grizzly.” His scowl deepened, and I laughed. “Let’s go.”

  Tuck studied the forest around us. He’d always had a special relationship with nature. He seemed to hear voices that didn’t reach anyone else’s ears. Maybe it was the fact that tracking had been passed down through Tuck’s family for generations. But I thought it was a connection that was uniquely his.

  He inclined his head towards a hillside. “This way.”

  Silence reigned again as we walked. Tuck led, careful to point out any downed logs and hold back any tree branches that obstructed my path. Twenty minutes later, he slowed, coming to a stop at the edge of a clearing.

  My breath caught. It didn’t matter how many times I’d seen a similar sight. They were just that beautiful. Across the clearing, I counted at least a dozen mustangs. Wild, like they had been for generations. The stallion studied us, trying to decide if Tuck and I posed any threat. We ducked our heads, breaking eye contact, showing that we didn’t intend to challenge his authority here.

  Tuck tugged on my hand. “Let’s sit.” He pulled me towards a downed log, and we settled there.

  It was Tuck who had introduced me to these creatures. In middle school, I’d been having a tough time with some mean girls, and he’d brought me out here, just like his grandfather had done for him. I’d fallen in love. Whenever life felt out of control, this was where I wanted to go. To see the beauty the world had to offer. The magic. The wildness that still reigned free.

  My eyes caught on the tiniest of creatures behind one of the mares. Still wobbling on his new legs, the foal couldn’t have been more than a couple of days old. I fisted Tuck’s shirt. “Look.”

  “They’re puttin’ on a show just for you today.” I could hear the grin in his voice but couldn’t force my eyes away from the foal.

  “He’s perfect.”

  Time flew by as I lost myself being with the horses. Let them remind me what family should be. Protection, loyalty, love, care. I stilled as a curious mare approached.

  “Steady now,” Tuck whispered, keeping his head lowered while fixing an eye on the mare.

  “I know.” I didn’t move a muscle as the horse drew closer. She sniffed the air around me, my hair, my shoulder, and then zeroed in on my belly. At three months along, there was no bump, but she sensed something. The horse sniffed my middle and then nuzzled my stomach. I sucked in a breath.

  “She’s pregnant, too.” Tuck’s voice came quietly from my side. “She wants to show another mama some love.”

  Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I took in the mare’s swollen belly. I resisted the urge to stroke her, to throw my arms around her neck and bury my face in her coat so I’d know that I wasn’t alone in this. The stallion let out a whinny, and my new friend backed away, returning to her family.

  I met Tuck’s Arctic blue stare. “I’m scared.” I ducked my head, unable to keep his gaze.

  Tuck lifted my face with a single roughened fingertip under my chin. “Being scared just means you care about something. Nothing there to be ashamed of.” Our eyes locked. Held. Tuck dropped his hand and balled his fist.

  I bit my lip and nodded, my palm traveling to my belly. “I love this little person already.”

  “I know you do.” Tuck gripped my neck lightly, giving it a squeeze. “You’re not alone, Jensen. Families can take any shape, and sometimes, the unique ones are the most beautiful.”

  1

  Jensen

  PRESENT

  I grimaced as I swallowed a mouthful of coffee. I hated coffee, but I was desperate. I needed all the caffeine I could get these days, and I would take it in whatever form was the most potent.

  Footsteps thundered on the stairs. Noah swung around the corner, almost taking out a vase of flowers on his way.

  “Hey there, Speed Racer, what’s with the zero to sixty?”

  Noah’s adorable little nose twitched. “Do I smell pancakes?”

  I grinned. “You do.”

  Noah threw his arms around me, his face burrowing into my belly. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best. It’s not even the weekend.”

  I soaked up his easy affection. I knew it wouldn’t always be this way. At nine years old, he’d soon be too cool to tell me that he loved me or to give me a hug. He’d be asking me to drop him off down the block from school instead of right out in front. So, I would try to create as many of these moments as possible, no matter how little sleep I got. And I would do everything I could to hold onto the feel of his little-boy arms wrapped around me.

  I ruffled Noah’s hair. “What do you think? Banana and chocolate chip?” This earned me his beaming smile and an enthusiastic nod. “You make sure your backpack is all ready to go and then head to the table.”

  Noah took off down the hall. He had two speeds—full-out, and slow as molasses. Pancakes meant full-out. “Mom, I can’t find my hat.”

  “Did you check in your karate bag?” Our house wasn’t large, only two bedrooms and a den, so there were a limited number of options as to where things could hide. But Noah always amazed me with how he could lose stuff. I let my gaze travel over the space that was supposed to be temporary, wondering if it was time for us to find somewhere new.

  The house wasn’t even really mine. It was the guest cottage a few hundred feet from the ranch house that was home to my parents and grandmother. When I’d gotten pregnant, this had seemed like the perfect setup. Close to help and support. But now, I wondered if it was just pathetic that I still basically lived at home.

  Noah charged back into the kitchen. “Found it!” He pulled the hat over his head as he scooted onto a chair at the kitchen table.

  I tilted my head in his direction. “What’s the rule about hats at the table?”

  “I just don’t want to lose it again.”

  I stifled a giggle. “Hang it on the hook with your coat, then you won’t forget it.”

  He looked up at me skeptically as he trudged to the coat hooks by the door, as though the hat might run away on its own, never to be found again.

  I plated a stack of pancakes for Noah and a single one for myself and then sat down at the table. Noah immed
iately began shoveling food into his mouth. “Fank you these are so gooh.” His words were barely intelligible around the food.

  I disguised my laugh with a cough. “Why don’t you swallow before you talk, mister?”

  Noah took a gulp of milk and grinned, white mustache and all. “I can’t help myself. They’re too good.” He shoved another bite into his mouth.

  I cut off a bite for myself. Slowly, I chewed. It tasted like everything else had lately. Bland. No flavor. I wondered if lack of sleep caused all your senses to dull.

  I looked over at Noah to find him studying me. “Not hungry?”

  I forced a bright smile. “I had some before you came down,” I lied.

  Noah’s gaze narrowed, but he nodded, continuing to chow down. My little boy was far too perceptive, and I needed to get my shit together.

  A knock came from the front of the house. “Come in,” I called.

  The door pushed open to reveal a scowling Walker. “You have no idea who’s there, and you just say, ‘come in?’ And why isn’t your door locked?”

  I took another sip of my coffee. “And good morning to you, too, brother dearest.”