Sweet Home Montana Page 10

  She never even saw me coming when I launched at her and ripped out three of her ratty, bleached blonde extensions. And I can’t help but cringe at the thought of that memory. I always was a little crazy when it came to Colt Henry.

  “Don’t worry about Sarah Winslow,” Colt says with a shrug, pulling me back from my memory.

  “Did you hear what she was saying?” I ask, hoping like hell he didn’t.

  He nods slowly.

  I swallow hard. “I’m sorry. I—”

  He shakes his head, dismissing my apology. “They’re all the same in this town. You know how it is more than anyone.”

  This time it’s me who nods. Because I do know how the people in this town can be. Better than most. I look up at Colt as he glances out at the mountains, and I take him in. He looks handsome as hell dressed in his suit, a crisp white shirt underneath, the top few buttons since unfastened, his black necktie loose, hanging casually. A glimpse of his chest is showing, and the same silver cross he’s been wearing since we were kids flashes when the light hits it. As if he can sense my eyes on him, he removes his hat, combing his fingers through his hair as if he felt he needed to do something with his idle hands.

  “Once again, here you are saving my sorry ass!” I laugh humorlessly, rolling my eyes at myself.

  “Yeah, well …” He shrugs, putting his hat back on and stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “I wasn’t gonna just stand there and watch her talk to you like that.”

  I manage a smile, meeting his eyes momentarily. “Thanks.”

  He presses his lips together, the hint of a smile causing his dimples to pop, his eyes zeroing in over my shoulder, gazing off into the distance.

  “I don’t even wanna go back in there,” I say, glaring back at the house. “That undeniable sound of what feels like a million people whispering about you behind your back …” I trail off, feeling Colt’s eyes on me. And I look to see a crease pulling between his brows, hesitation obvious within his green gaze.

  But then he speaks, shocking me with his words. “Let’s go for a walk, then.” He juts his chin in the direction of the trail that leads down to the river.

  “A-are you s-sure …?” I ask, my brows knitting together in tentative uncertainty.

  Colt nods for me to follow, and I do, desperate to get away from that house and the people inside it.

  ***

  “So, how’s everything in New York?”

  Colt and I have been walking for a while, slow enough for me to keep up in my heels, fast enough to get the hell away from Sarah Winslow and the rest of the unforgiving Canyon folk inside my dead father’s house. We’ve been otherwise quiet, save for the amicable chitchat spoken just to fill the void of the awkward silences that keep settling between us. But this is the first time he’s asked about me, and I’m slightly taken aback by his question.

  “Um …” I search for my words, kicking at a loose pebble on the ground. “It’s– It’s okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  I shrug. “I mean, it was great, at first. I loved it.”

  “But now?”

  I lift my gaze from the ground, feeling his eyes on me, but I avoid his curious stare, choosing instead to look out over the valley that was once my home. “It’s funny. I can stand right here in this one spot, staring out at these mountains, with no one around, nothing. Nobody. And I feel whole.” I glance sideways at Colt, finding him watching me intently. He nods for me to continue. “But New York—a city of eight million people—there’s just something about it that makes me feel so lonely. So empty.”

  We stop on the hill, looking down over a huge herd of cattle grazing the rolling fields. Colt stands beside me, saying nothing, folding his arms over his chest, and together we just watch the world pass. The breeze blowing through the trees. A bird of prey circling high in the sky up above. The gray clouds rolling in with the threat of snow, enveloping the highest peaks of the mountains. It’s breathtaking, in every sense of the word. But, being here, staring out at what was my father’s pride and joy, it brings back all the memories, all the feelings, all the emotions.

  “God, I miss this place,” I whisper under my breath.

  I feel Colt look at me and I can’t help but smile. “I mean, obviously I miss my father. I miss my brothers. I … I miss you.” I don’t look at him, I can’t risk him seeing the tears in my eyes. The tears that are for him, and for everything else I was stupid enough to lose along the way. “I miss my home.” The emotion racking through me gets the better of me, and a tear falls over the edge, hitting my cheek, and that one singular tear is my downfall, causing a sob to bubble up the back of my throat. “I lost so much. I lost everything. I miss it all and it’s all my fault. I just … I just wish I could take it all back,” I cry, burying my face into my hands.

  After a moment, a familiar warmth presses against me from behind. An immediate feeling of safety and comfort comes over me. A familiar strength wraps around me. A familiar scent inundates my entire being. Colt stands behind me, his arms wrapping around me, holding me. I feel his lips press against the top of my head in a tender kiss, lingering as he gently shushes me. I breathe him in—a trembling, racking breath—my tears still falling. And suddenly, in that moment, despite my tears and the raw emotion consuming me from the inside, everything is okay. But that’s the thing about Colt. He always makes everything feel as if, no matter what, it’s going to be okay. His strength, and his warmth, and the comfort of his familiarity is all I need right now. In his arms, it truly does feel as if everything will be right again.

  We stand there for a long time. Just the two of us. I don’t even know how long. Me resting back against Colt’s strong chest, his arms protectively wrapped around me. I relax my head back against his shoulder, staring out as a violet sky settles overhead, dusk falling, turning the air cold and icy as it blows down from the mountains.

  “Did Colt talk to you about the lawyers?” I ask quietly.

  “No.” He moves, and I know he’s shaking his head. “What about?”

  I know I should let my brother tell him. But I can’t help myself. I want to see the look in his eyes. So, I turn in his arms, glancing up at him through my lashes. His jaw remains tight, in that way he does so as to not give himself away. And while his arms remain around me, his gaze is set intently straight ahead, focused over my head, out over the valley.

  “My father’s will,” I begin, biting back my smile. “He left you ten percent of this place.”

  I feel him stiffen. His chest stops rising and falling. He isn’t breathing. He doesn’t even blink. In fact, the only thing giving anything away is the reflection of the setting sun causing his eyes to glisten with the tears he’s so clearly trying to hold back.

  “He loved you,” I continue, and I know those words affect him. I can feel it in the way his hands grip me a little tighter.

  Colt doesn’t remember what it was like to feel the love of a parent. His grandmother loved him. But the love of a grandparent differs significantly from that of a parent. And Colt never had that love.

  “We should head back to the house,” he finally says, his raspy voice breaking the steely yet companionable silence.

  I crane my neck, looking up at him, his arms still secured around me, like he can’t bear to let me go even if he wanted to. I stare into his eyes, finding a conflicting emotion deep within his gaze. He’s scared, nervous, and everything in between. And so am I. It’s obvious. Something suddenly feels different between us. I can’t be imagining it. I know he feels it too.

  But there’s something else in his eyes. His secrets. His past. Whatever it is he’s not telling me. He’s guarding himself because he knows it’s safer. He knows the pain I’m capable of inflicting upon him, and that tears at my heart, shredding at it with sharp, violent claws.

  After a few beats I nod, my stomach twisting at the thought of going back there to the Sarah Winslows of the world and I can tell he notices my apprehensions.

  “I’ll walk in
with you.” He offers the hint of a smile, and, for the first time since I’ve been back, I witness that magical sparkle within his emerald eyes, and it momentarily knocks the air out of me. “Strength in numbers,” he adds with a casual shrug.

  I nod again, pressing my lips together in the hope of stifling my smile at least a little.

  His arms move from around me, and I feel a brief sense of loss, but then he offers his elbow, and I meet his gaze for a moment before linking my arm through his. He smiles again, leading the way, and with that one tiny gesture, my heart is whole.

  Chapter 11

  I’m helping Shelby tidy up once everyone has finished eating our food and drinking our drinks, piling out of the house in drunken hordes. The servers are doing all the hard work, but I had to do something. I was about to send myself crazy, completely overthinking my moment with Colt back on the hill. Even now, as I’m collecting discarded wine glasses from the great room, my gaze is intently focused on the man himself as he sits with Cash, the two of them in the middle of what looks to be a rather serious conversation, Colt gripping a copy of Dad’s will in his hands.

  “He misses you, you know?”

  I jump at the sound of the hushed voice so close to my ear, almost dropping the glasses in my hands, causing them to clang together loudly. Cash and Colt glance over at me, but I turn away quickly, my eyes bulging when I find Shelby standing right there, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she looks from me, to Colt, and back again, quirking a brow.

  “What?” I hiss, my brow furrowed. “What are you even talking about?”

  “Oh, like you haven’t spent the last forty minutes staring at him longingly from a distance?” Shelby chuckles quietly. “CJ is more discreet than you. And he’s only four years old.”

  I roll my eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I turn and head back up the few steps, hurrying the hell out of the great room, Shelby hot on my heels.

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice you two disappear for an hour,” she whispers loudly as we walk into the kitchen. “Where’d you go?”

  I stop, placing the glasses onto the island counter before I do drop them, searching the room for the possibility of anyone who might care to eavesdrop. The coast is clear, save for two servers oblivious to us as they pack away their empty trays, and I take a deep, fortifying breath. I glance at Shelby, finding her staring at me incredulously, her eyes wide and desperate for an explanation. And, I mean, if I can’t trust Shelby, who the hell can I trust?

  “We went for a walk.” I shrug, as if it isn’t a big deal. “I’d been attacked by Sarah Winslow—”

  “Ugh,” Shelby groans with disgust, interrupting me. “She’s such an old cow.”

  I bite back my laughter. “Colt saw it happen. He stepped in. Pulled me away before I killed her with my bare hands.”

  Shelby cups her hands to her chest, right over her heart. “He rescued you!”

  For the third time in as many days, but I don’t dare divulge that piece of information. “You read far too many romance novels.” I roll my eyes again.

  She guffaws. “So? What happened on your walk?” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

  “Calm down, Shelby.” I balk at her reaction. “I just buried my father. It’s not like I took Colt to the back barn and got it on in the loft!”

  Her cheeks flush as she smiles to herself, loading the dishwasher. “I need a life.”

  I lean against the island, watching her, her words repeating over and over again in my head. “What did you mean when you said that he misses me?”

  She stands, looking at me, and she’s suddenly serious, her eyes flitting from side to side, checking the coast is still clear. She moves a little closer, resting against the counter beside me. “Promise you won’t tell anyone I told you?”

  I nod, my heart rate increasing from the secretiveness within her whispered tone.

  She leans in even closer, so close I can smell the scent of her sweet vanilla perfume. “Cash walked into the bunkhouse to speak to the ranch hands. Colt was coming out of the bathroom, dressed only in a towel …”

  My brows lower, pulling together in uncertainty as to where the hell this story is heading.

  Shelby’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “He’s got your name tattooed right over his chest. Right where his heart is!”

  I blink at her, processing her words.

  Colt has my name tattooed on him?

  A permanent reminder of me etched right over his heart?

  Now I don’t quite know what to think.

  “Cash didn’t say anything to him about it,” Shelby continues as she goes back to loading the dishwasher. “He just pretended he didn’t see it. But he told me as soon as he came home. I swear that big, burly man is a true romantic on the inside …” She smiles wistfully at the thought of her husband.

  I glance back in the direction of the great room, trying so hard to wrap my head around this. Sure, the tattoo could be old. But he sure as hell never had it before things ended between us. And then he had his accident. He was in a coma for nine weeks, and intense physical therapy afterwards for an entire year. He hated me for so long. Why on earth would he have his skin permanently branded with my name?

  “Shelby, can I ask you something?”

  She secures the dishwasher door closed, pressing a button before standing back up, meeting my eyes. She nods with a kind smile. “Sure, go ahead, honey.”

  “Is there something I should know about him?”

  Her brow furrows in confusion.

  “I know there’s something going on.” I shake my head. “He’s still here, working at the ranch, living in the cabin. He’s not married. He’s single. He hated me. And, after what I did, I deserved that hate. But now you’re telling me he has my name tattooed over his heart. The same heart that I broke?” I laugh once, emphasizing my exasperation. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

  Shelby goes to say something, but then she hesitates, gauging me.

  “I know you know.” I implore her with my eyes. “I could see it yesterday morning, when you asked me about him bringing me back to your place …”

  “It’s not up to me to tell you, Quinn.” Shelby looks down at her hands before meeting my eyes once again. “You should speak to Colt.” She wipes her hands with the dishtowel, offering me a sad smile. “I gotta get back to the house to relieve the sitter. Little bitch charges triple after ten, just to eat all our damn food.” She touches my arm, squeezing gently before turning and walking out.

  I stand there in the silence of the empty kitchen thinking about what she said, allowing her words to sink in. Pulling myself up onto the counter, I release a heavy breath and look down at my hands.

  Could I really stay here for good? Could I really give up my life in New York and come back to the Canyon? I mean, I’ve got nothing left in the city. No job. My reputation has probably taken a serious nosedive since being let go by Edward Hawkins, himself. I’ve received countless text messages and voicemails from Oliver, asking how I am, if I need anything, telling me that he’s keeping my client list serviced in the hope that I return. He’s literally all I have back in that city. One person in eight million.

  But can I really go back there now, after everything? In three days it feels as if so much has changed. My father is gone. Cash is in charge of the ranch. Tripp has completely lost his mind. Colt has my name tattooed over his heart. As much as I wanted to get out of here all those years ago, I can’t deny that this place is my home; maybe this is where I need to be right now. Maybe it’s where I’ve needed to be all along.

  ***

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here in the kitchen, on the island countertop, considering everything, but I’m pulled abruptly from my thoughts by the blur of Cash as he runs past the doorway, followed by Colt chasing quickly after him.

  My brows knit together as I push myself off the counter, slowly walking out into the hall in time to see the two of them disappear into Dad’s
office.

  “What’s wrong?” I call out, picking up pace after them.

  When I enter the office, Cash has the safe door open, and I watch on as he takes out a few bundles of cash.

  “Um … Excuse me? What the hell is going on?” I raise my voice, stepping inside.

  Colt glances at me, his face fraught with concern. “Tripp’s in jail.”

  My heart kicks into gear as panic sets in. “What? What do you mean he’s in jail?”

  “Got into a damn fight. Sheriff took him in.” Cash moves past me, tucking the money into the back pocket of his dress pants. “I’ll deal with it.”

  I grab his shirtsleeve before he can get away. “Cash! You have a wife and a kid. You stay. I’ll go.”

  “Over my dead body you’re goin’ out there on your own …” Cash shakes his head, and I can see the frustration in his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

  I gawp at him, placing a hand on my hip. “I am a grown-ass woman!”

  “God dammit, Quinny!” he snaps, and I stiffen, hearing a tone in his voice I’ve never heard before, one that sounds just like my father.

  Colt quickly steps in between us, glancing down at me. “It’s all right. I’ll go. You can come with me.”

  Cash relents with a heavy sigh, handing Colt the money. And I grab Colt’s arm, pulling him toward the door, my heart racing as fraught desperation takes over. I have to go get my brother. He’s in jail. He needs me.

  ***

  The drive into town is silent. The air between us is obviously thick with something I can’t quite put my finger on. Tension and something else. Something not completely unbearable. It feels so weird to be sitting in Colt’s truck, in a position I’ve been in so many times before, but now, ten years later, after everything, it feels so different. But, at least this time I’m sober.