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“I love seeing you so happy, Blythe.”
Bree never would’ve predicted her little sister would fall into motherhood as easily as she had. Tucker was a good match for her.
When they were growing up, Blythe was a brat if she didn’t get her own way. She was the baby of the family, and she played it well—until she met Tucker. He loved her just the way she was, and she blossomed because of it. He calmed her, settled her, centered her. He was her soulmate. Just as Zack had been Bree’s.
“I wish you could get him to talk to Jace.”
“I do too. He will, in his own time, Bree. In the meantime, Cochran is growing up so fast.” Blythe leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Aren’t you, big boy?”
It was a beautiful day for a ride. The blue Montana sky stretched on forever. When he rode the ranch, Jace was content. He felt at peace—even though it was solitary.
The ranch had two main houses. When the Beiman family had owned it, the old man lived in one and his oldest son lived in the other. When the deal went through, Jace’s parents insisted he move into the house that had belonged to the old man. It was closer to the center of the ranch, and it was the bigger of the two.
His mom said she felt more comfortable in the smaller house. After all, she told him, they were finished raising their family. She hoped, one day, Jace would fill the bigger house with a family of his own.
He didn’t see that happening soon, if ever, since he only fell in love with women who were in love with someone else.
There was one, but she wasn’t as interested in him as he was in her. Not that it would make a difference if she was. Her sister was married to his brother, and his brother never wanted to see him again.
Jace and Tucker had shared a tragedy when they were younger, after which, Tucker would often disappear for months at a time. Tucker’s part in the accident was public. He’d been as much of a victim as the girl who died. Jace’s role wasn’t only private, he’d intentionally kept it a secret. When that secret came to light, it was Jace’s turn to disappear.
He traveled the rodeo circuit for a while, but his heart wasn’t in it. After a few months, he knew he needed somewhere to settle, at least for a while. Even he didn’t know what that meant; he only knew he was tired of running.
The truth was, he’d been on the run since that horrible night all those years ago. He ran from himself, afraid of what he might see if he let himself take a good, long look in the mirror.
Owning up to what he’d done had been the first step. If he was ever going to be the man he knew he wanted to be, he had to take that long look and figure out what was inside of him that made him betray his brother in the first place.
Montana was where he settled. He heard the Beiman family was looking for help with the rough stock end of their ranching business, but in the end, it was more than help they were looking for. They wanted to sell. In under two weeks, he’d gone from having virtually nothing, except money in th
e bank, to having a lot less money and a lot of land.
Jace and his father learned the lay of the land and worked to get a handle on the rough stock business that had been part of the deal to purchase the ranch.
They had fifteen bulls and were looking to add more. It was common for their numbers to be down in the winter, when there were fewer events, but they were behind the curve for the spring and summer.
Jace offered to go out on the road, but when Hank insisted he be the one to go, Jace admitted he’d be glad to stay put. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d be forced back out on the road. If they were going to make a go of this business, both he and his father would have to be out there, delivering bucking bulls to the rodeos that contracted them.
For now, he spent as much time as he could, riding the twelve thousand acres of the land that was now his, and caring for six hundred head of cattle.
As he rode up to his parents’ place, he saw his mother waving at him from the front porch.
“Join me for breakfast?” she called out to him.
“Would love to,” he answered, leading his horse into the corral. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”
“Huevos Rancheros. Go get cleaned up, and I’ll make you a plate.”
“You got any coffee brewin’, Mama?”
She laughed and shook her head. Yeah, that was a stupid question. Carol Rice almost always had a fresh pot of coffee going. His father was addicted to the stuff.
“It’s good to have you in my kitchen,” she said when Jace sat down at the table.
“Good to have your kitchen so close.”
Carol put her hand on her son’s shoulder and kissed the back of his head. “I love you, sweet boy.”
“You might be the only one who does these days. You and Daddy.”
