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“That’s what your sister paid me to marry her,” he revealed evenly.

Joel’s jaw dropped and Colton had his answer. At least she was consistent.

“Care to repeat that?”

Colton held up his left hand and wiggled his finger so the gold ring winked in the afternoon light. Joel sat back for a moment, then up-ended his beer and swallowed to the last drop. Resting the empty bottle on his thigh, he regarded the check in his other hand. “She didn’t take your name?”

He’d noticed her signature, too, the moment he’d looked at the check, before he’d counted the zeros. Now, he gave a short laugh. “Seeing as how she’s in New York, and I’m here, that’s not such a shocker, is it?”

Bitterness crept into his words at the end, and Colton cringed. Damn it, he swore he wasn’t going to let it get to him.

“I don’t know what to say.” Joel handed the check over and stood up.

Tucking it back into his pocket, Colton said, “Nothing to say. She needed to be married to inherit her money, I happened to be conven—available.”

“Well, on the bright side, the money will come in handy for your dad…or a ranch of your own.”

Colton frowned up at Joel. “How’d you know about that?”

“Britt told me you’d mentioned it to Gina a few years back, when she lived here for those couple months.”

“Oh.”

Joel headed for the door, then paused. “Much as I’d hate to lose you, Colton, do what you need to do. You’re family to us and we wish you only the best, no matter what you decide.”

“Thanks.” Colton’s chest constricted. “That means a lot.”

After a moment of silence, Joel cleared his throat. “All right then. How about you lighten up? Because, you do know, if Marty and Neil quit, you have to stay.”

Colton smiled briefly. “Aye-aye, Sir.”

Joel left, and Colton thought about their conversation. Yeah, he did need to lighten up. Two things stood in the way of that happening. One, he could do something about.

****

Colton rose from the table with a sigh. “No, Mom, please, no cookies.”

He’d known this was going to be difficult. She was such a nurturer, always trying to take care of him. Hands on her shoulders, he steered her back to a chair. He was tired of living with conflicting emotions that seemed to be at constant war with each other and could only think of one way to relieve the pressure. “I need to talk to you about Dad.”

His mother looked at him with concern. “It sounds serious.”

“It is.” He took a deep breath. “It’s about that night…I…all these years…I’ve never asked you to forgive me.”

“Forgive you? Good heavens, Colton, what are you talking about?”

He dropped his gaze, unable to meet her eyes. “It was my fault.”

“No,” she denied immediately. “Of course it wasn’t. Why—”

“If I hadn’t called for a ride home, he never would’ve been out on the road.”

His mother shook her head. “You can’t look at it that way.”

“You don’t have to protect me, Mom. I know he didn’t want me to go to that party—”

She covered his hand with hers, shaking her head, halting his words. He stared at her face as he turned his hand over to clasp her fingers. She looked sad—and older suddenly. When had she developed those deep wrinkles around her eyes?

And why did her eyes shimmer with unshed tears?

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