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“More reason to be on a horse, then. What’s going on, Cole?”

God, his jaw ached with the strain of his teeth grinding together. It was none of her damn business. More than that, he didn’t want her to know. He’d never thought he’d see her again, but if he’d had to choose,

she wouldn’t have seen him like this. The lowest point in his life. The weakest he’d ever been. She’d left him lying on the ground like trash, and here he was again, as if he’d been ruined by her. As if he’d never gotten up and moved on.

He imagined Grace coming through ten years from now. Imagined himself as his father, broken-down and numb and bitter.

Christ. That couldn’t happen. He’d have to find some way. He couldn’t let these people determine who he was and wasn’t. Madeline, Grace, Easy, the doctors. He couldn’t measure himself with their words, see himself through their eyes.

“I shattered my femur,” he finally said. “Broke my pelvis. I haven’t been on a horse in nearly nine months.”

“Oh, Jesus, Cole. I’m sorry. But you’re better now?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, thanks for coming to my rescue. I think that boy was scared of me.”

He grunted and eased the horse down a steep bank. Shifting again, he tried to find a way to stall the pain for a moment.

“We can walk if you want,” Madeline said quietly.

Cole stared straight ahead. “I’m not sure that would work at this point.”

She touched his hip, slid her hand over him with proprietary ease. He looked down to see her hand on his thigh, her fingers sliding slightly under the edge of his chaps. It reminded him of Grace touching him, so he let her do it. It hardly mattered at this point.

“You need help, Cole?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think cowboys have the best health-care plans, do they?”

“I had insurance,” he said dully. “I’m fine.”

Her hand rubbed up and down his thigh, and he hated that it felt good. “You’re back in the saddle now. Are you just going back to being a cowboy, then?”

“Yes. This place will be mine soon,” he said, not knowing if it were true anymore.

“That’s why you’ve been so possessive about it.”

He stayed silent, keeping his eyes on the creek as he led the mare along the shallow edges.

“Why don’t you let me help you?”

Her hand slid to his inner thigh. Cole gritted his teeth against the feeling, but his cock began to swell. “What are you talking about?”

Her hand slid up. She chuckled and scraped her nails along the fabric that strained over his erection. He wanted to tell her it had nothing to do with her. Nothing at all. It was just an automatic response to touch. But that would sound pitiful, so he just moved her hand back to his thigh.

“I know what you must think of me, Cole. But I know what I want and I go after it. And I want you. Again. The way it was before. You were good then. I know you’re even better now. More mature. A man’s touch. A man’s knowledge.”

“Just say it,” he growled.

“I’m leaving today. I’ll be in L.A. for a few weeks before coming back to film. Why don’t you come out to California with me? Like old times. You can recuperate. Relax. Sit in the hot tub. I’ve even got a personal masseuse. It’ll be good for you. You’ll be a new man.”

A new man. He’d been a new man after his last trip to L.A., too. He’d gone out there an arrogant kid, and he’d come back a man, though not for the reasons she’d think. When she’d kicked him out, he hadn’t wanted to go home. He couldn’t have imagined it. Dragging back into town with his tail between his legs. All that bragging he’d done. All the friends he’d blown off. And his girlfriend, whose family had once embraced him as one of their own—he’d broken her heart. But more than anything else, he hadn’t wanted to face his father.

His dad had been disgusted that Cole had even wanted to work on the movie set in the first place. And when Cole had decided to leave town, his dad had called him a disgrace. The worst kind of son. And a man who didn’t know how to keep his word. “You’re a fool if you think those people want you,” he’d said. “And you’re a fool if you think I’ll want you back when they’re done.”

So Cole hadn’t gone back. His pride hadn’t let him. Instead he’d stayed in L.A. with the money Madeline had showered on him. He’d partied and slept around, hoping the news would get back to Madeline and hurt her. He’d gotten drunk and popped pills so he wouldn’t have to see what he was doing to himself.

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