Page 119 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

Colter grinned. “Pancakes sound good to me.”

“You’re making pancakes?” Lynlee perked up.

“I sure am,” Colter said. “I make a mean chocolate chip one.”

“You are invited,” Lynlee decreed, pointing at him.

“Best invitation I’ve had in a while,” he teased. “Well, at least since an hour ago.”

Sutton shot him a look, and he winked back. And damn it, that look made her heart sprint again.

She had almost confessed. Almost told him she was in love. Almost confessed the truth about how his DNA ended up in her daughter.

Now she had pancakes to make, a daughter watching her every move, and a secret sitting like a stone in her chest.

CHAPTER 44

Colter sat hunched at the old pine dining table, shoulders tight enough to crack. Spread across the surface were maps, genetic charts, semen catalogs, mare profiles, projected cost sheets. Enough paperwork to choke a lawyer. He traced a finger over a column, then shoved the whole folder away.

Boone whistled low. “Careful, that binder and those speculations cost us five grand. Don’t bruise her.”

“I feel like I should marry her first. Take her to dinner. Whisper sweet nothings.”

Eli snorted while pouring another mug of coffee. “That is how you find yourself knocked up with ten colts you can’t afford.”

Despite himself, Colter huffed out a laugh but the pressure in his lungs stayed. He rested his elbows on the table, fisting his hands in his hair. “I mean it. What if I screw this up?”

Boone sobered, sliding the coffee his way. “Define screw up.”

“Bad picks. Bad breeding matches. Dumping sixty grand into a stallion that turns out sterile. Tanking the program and making Dad roll in his grave.”

Eli took the chair across from him. “You think Dad never made a bad investment? He once bought a rooster that couldn’t crow. We named him Whisper. He was a menace. Remember?”

Boone nodded. “We loved Whisper.”

Colter dropped his forehead onto the table. “You two are idiots.”

Boone shrugged. “We contain multitudes.”

Eli tapped the table to refocus him. “Look at me. You are allowed to feel overwhelmed. This is a big swing, but you’re not swinging alone.”

Colter lifted his head. “It feels like it. Everyone expects the middle son to pull off the Hail Mary. Dad believed in me and I don’t want to waste that belief.”

Boone’s expression gentled. “Dad believed in all of us. He expected mistakes. The man bought thirty peacocks because he got drunk at an auction. Peacocks, Colter.”

Eli pointed a pen at him. “And he swore they would ‘bring prestige.’ One attacked the mayor’s wife.”

Colter’s mouth twitched. “I forgot about that.”

“Point is,” Boone said, “Dad was not risk-averse. He raised us the same way. If there is anything the last year and Vivi has taught me is that you are allowed to try. You’re also allowed to get it wrong.”

“And when you do?” Eli added. “Your family steps in, because that is what we do.”

“You forced your help on me,” Boone said, referring to last year when they’d nearly lost the ranch to Boone’s stubbornness. Colter and Eli had sat him down and had a come-to-Jesus talk.

The knot in Colter’s chest loosened a fraction. He looked between them. Boone’s steady confidence, Eli’s blunt certainty.

“You two ever get scared?” he asked.