Chapter 10

It had been a hell of a week. Snow Monday, then rain ever since. Spring really was upon them, as the ranch became little more than a vehicle for mud.

Alex was thrust back into every calving season he’d endured as a kid, and it was a weird kind of nostalgia. He was living this thing he’d done as a kid, and there were things he remembered, things he didn’t, and things he’d clearly glorified or vilified at turns.

Then, in between all that, he and Gabe were trying to get the bunkhouse in some kind of order and finding problem after problem they couldn’t fix. It poked at Alex in a way he didn’t want to examine, so he always went in search of something he could fix.

“Lunch,” Jack barked from the doorway of the bunkhouse, the sun shining through it making him nothing but a dark shadow.

“In a sec.”

“You said that ten minutes ago. Get your ass out here.”

Alex sighed and looked at the floorboard he’d been carefully pulling up so he could replace it with a non-warped plank.

It could wait. This wasn’t the navy, where you didn’t take a break until the task was done. This was just life.

He rubbed at the tight band around his chest and got to his feet. It didn’t matter what he felt, as long as he kept moving. It didn’t matter how everything felt off-kilter on the inside, as long as on the outside he appeared perfectly normal.

He walked through the narrow bunkhouse and into the bright, spring day. Becca had insisted on making up sandwiches this morning, so they could enjoy the first sunny day in weeks with a picnic lunch.

Gabe, Jack, and Hick were sitting next to the bunkhouse, where a picnic table that Alex thought might predate his existence was situated on a little concrete pad. Star was happily waiting for scraps, while Ranger was likely following Becca around.

The other guys had already passed out the sandwiches and drinks and had started eating. Alex didn’t feel hungry, but skipping lunch would either earn him looks or questions, so he decided to choke down a sandwich one way or another.

“Where’s Becca?”

Hick nodded toward the stables. “Something about a rooster and a goat, and that’s about the point I stopped listening,” he said in the same smoker’s gravel he’d had since Alex could remember.

“Why don’t you go get her, Alex?” Gabe suggested innocently. Way too innocently.

Alex narrowed his eyes. “She’s a grown woman. She can eat lunch when she wants.”

“I’m done,” Hick said, tossing his baggie into the trash can next to the bunkhouse. “I’ll get her. Girl gets lost in her own head sometimes, grown woman or not.” Then he strode off to the stables.

Alex slowly unwrapped his sandwich, glancing at where Hick had gone. Becca had stepped into the doorway of the stables and was talking to Hick. The sun teased red highlights out of her dark braid, and her smile was wide and pretty even this far away.

He couldn’t hear her or Hick, but somehow he could think of exactly how it would sound if she were standing next to him laughing, instead of yards away with Hick.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should cut her out,” Gabe said in an overloud voice that had Alex jerking his head back to the conversation.

“What?” he demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m not sure she’s made of stern enough stuff for this,” Jack said before polishing off his sandwich.

“Stern enough stuff for what?”

“I don’t know,” Gabe said with a shrug. “Ranch work. A bunch of guys hanging around. She’s a skittish little thing—maybe we should keep her separate. Cut her out of the ranch stuff. Let her handle the easier stuff. You know.”

“I do not know. She’s tough as nails and knows more about ranch work than you ever will,” Alex retorted. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

Gabe and Jack suddenly exchanged grins that didn’t make any sense to Alex whatsoever.

“How long until he breaks, ya think?” Gabe asked.

“I’ve got ten bucks on a month.”

“Oh, she’s going to get to him before the month is out. I take that bet,” Gabe said, holding his hand out to Jack, who shook it wholeheartedly.

Alex scowled at them. “What the hell are you two assholes talking about?” he growled.

But they got to their feet, walking around the picnic table on either side, then slapping each shoulder as they passed.

“Just proved a point for us, that’s all,” Gabe said jovially, heading for the house.

“What point?” Alex demanded after them, but they walked away laughing to themselves and Becca was approaching and…

What damn point?

“Uh-oh. The guys been messing with you again?” Becca slid next to him and dug through the cooler to get her sandwich.

“I don’t know what the hell they’re doing,” Alex grumbled, staring down at his untouched sandwich.

“Well, pissing you off, if your look is anything to go by. Which I assume was their intention based on the way they’re laughing themselves hoarse. Is this a guy thing or a Navy SEAL thing or what?”

“What?”

“The whole purposefully pissing each other off thing?”

“I think it’s a Gabe and Jack thing.”

Becca laughed, and though they’d been at this thing for weeks, cohabitating and working together, he wasn’t quite over the sound of her laugh. It was always so effortless and joyful. It always spiraled inside of him like a firework ready to go off.

But he never let it go off, because he was a little afraid of the man who’d be left.

“Here, have a Coke,” she said, sliding the red can his way. She gave him a sidelong glance. “You okay? You look…”

“I look what?”

“I don’t know. You look peaked—and don’t ask me what that means. I only know that’s what my mom said whenever she thought I was coming down with something.”

“I’m fine,” Alex muttered.

“You should try tea.”

“Tea?”

“Yeah, there’s this sleepy-time stuff—”

“I’m not drinking something called ‘sleepy time,’ Becca. I’m a grown man.”

She smiled at that, but then she reached across and touched his hand. A brief brush of her fingertips across the top, nothing that should jolt through him like electricity. “Grown man or not, you still need to take care of yourself. We need you around here.” She gave his hand a little squeeze, then moved to leave, but before her hand could leave his, he grasped it, holding her in place.

He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to let her go. This was some link to something that didn’t feel bleak and dark. Her small, strong hand in his—a lifeline.

To what, he didn’t have a clue.

“I told the guys about the name,” he said, his voice too rusty, his grip too tight. “They liked it.”

She held his gaze, though her pulse clearly fluttered in her neck. “I’m glad,” she returned, her voice sounding a little…whispery.

His skin prickled, as though he were neck deep in water on a freezing cold night. As though something important was waiting for him if he only held on to Becca long enough.

But he didn’t have his uniform, and he didn’t have his gun, and what could be waiting for him without those tools?

You’re not a Navy SEAL anymore.

He blinked down at this beautiful piece of civilian life. A cheerful woman with a heart the size of Montana and a smile that did unbidden things to some place in his chest he couldn’t name.

It might be your heart.

“I, um, better get back to work,” he said hoarsely, forcing himself to let go of his grasp on her hand. He got up and started walking toward the bunkhouse.

Walking or running?

“Alex?”

He paused in his retreat, though he didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t eat.”

He blinked over at the untouched sandwich on the picnic table and swallowed. “Right.” He grabbed it, not looking at her. “I’ll eat while I work.”

Which was a lie. He was going to give it to the dogs looking at him longingly and work away all the swirling, confusing thoughts in his head.

* * *

Becca woke up three days later to the sound of her alarm and the fleeting memory of a dream she couldn’t quite piece together. Alex had been there, which wasn’t all that uncommon, she had to admit to herself.

But there’d been an…urgency. His hand grasping hers, as though he had to hold on to be saved.

She shook her head and slid out of bed. Dreams were just that, and there wasn’t much point wasting time wondering over it.

She pulled her clothes on to head down to start the coffee. Once they had a break in the calf watch, she needed to head into Bozeman and get one of those programmable coffeemakers. Burt had been wholeheartedly against most technology, and that was one thing she would happily change about the ranch. Introduce some modern practices. Starting with a coffeemaker.

Becca got downstairs to find the coffee was already made and three mugs were set out on the counter. She found her mug and deduced based on the three that were left who had made the coffee—Alex. Whether he knew it or not, he always took a mug her mom had bought Burt for his birthday a few years ago.

But the question remained: Where was Alex? He didn’t generally take food into the living room or bedrooms. He was a little too anal for that.

“Where would I drink my coffee if I were a controlling, neat freak of an ex-soldier?” she pondered aloud into the kitchen.

She had no idea where a former Navy SEAL would take his coffee if not the kitchen, but she did know how to find him. She whistled for the dogs. They usually slept in the mudroom, trained too well by her mother, so they followed around whoever was up first until everyone woke up.

When the dogs didn’t immediately come, she figured he must be outside. So that’s where she headed with her mug of coffee.

She stepped onto the porch and there Alex was, staring off into the early-morning dawn. Both dogs were curled at his feet, and he sipped his coffee as he looked out over the ranch. He looked…focused, but not at peace—which was what she always felt sitting there as the golden ball of sun climbed its way up over the mountains.

Alex’s expression was hard, those grooves around his mouth prominent. He had dark circles under his eyes and Becca frowned. He was working too hard and not getting enough sleep. She was pretty sure he had not eaten that sandwich the other day.

And none of that was her business.

Still, he made quite the picture, even before he turned that golden-brown gaze on her. “Mornin’.”

“Good morning. Do you mind if I join you?”

“It’s a free porch in a free country.”

“Partially thanks to you, I believe.”

He rolled his eyes, but she took a seat in the rocking chair. She sipped her coffee and watched the sun rise in the east.

“You guys have been scarce this week. Must be putting in long hours.”

“Trying to get the bunkhouse ready, plus trying to learn as much about calving as we can before they get here. Funny—when I was a kid, this was my favorite time of year.”

“And now?”

He flashed a grin that hinted at someone who wasn’t completely devoid of fun or humor. “Still is. I never was one for downtime.”

“Funny, Burt always complained about spring.”

“My mud has mud has mud.”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“He had a few sayings that never changed.”

“That he did.”

But she didn’t want to dwell on Burt. Not just because Alex usually left when she did that, but also because she wanted there to be more between them than just memories of Burt. “Going to have to start thinking about the garden soon enough.”

“You have a garden?”

“Well, Mom and I…” From one sticky subject to another. With Alex, it seemed like there wasn’t much else.

Nothing was simple or clear. She wondered if that was why she liked him. Because she was finally at a point in her life when she wanted a challenge. She was ready to deal with the hard things, done with being sheltered from them. Alex was a million hard things.

“We tried to revive your mother’s garden.”

It didn’t surprise her that he stiffened. Didn’t surprise her that he looked down at his coffee with that tensed jaw.

“She did love that garden,” he finally said. And that was a surprise. For him to say anything at all about his mother.

“Do you think it gets easier?” she asked, since he was giving pieces, and she’d gather all of them she could.

His gaze met hers, and she knew he understood that question and exactly what she was asking.

“You’re asking the man who left for sixteen years? I’m not sure it ever gets easier if you run away.”

“You’re here now. Is that why you stayed away so much? You missed your mom?”

“No, actually. I always wanted to be a soldier.” He took a careful sip of coffee. “I was four or five maybe, and I snuck downstairs and Dad was watching this movie. Some war movie. I never figured out what it was, but things were exploding and people were being shot, but one man stays calm, saves his men. I always wanted to be that man, but…” He trailed off.

There was more to that story, she would have bet money on it, but whatever it was, he pushed it away.

“I’ll admit Mom being gone probably made it easier to do it. But that was always the dream. Serve my country. Save people.”

“It’s a very admirable dream.”

“I don’t know that it’s admirable.”

“Many people wouldn’t do it. Most people are too scared.” She couldn’t imagine facing what he must have faced.

“Some men are born soldiers. It’s in the blood or the brains or something. It’s who we’re supposed to be, but some people are born to other things.”

Becca chewed her lip as she worried her thumb over the handle of the coffee mug. She caught the faintest sliver of gold peeking over the mountaintop in the distance. “What if…you have no idea what that thing is?”

“You figure it out. Knowing you, belonging here is a start.”

It left a little hitch in her chest that he would say that, think it. “I’m not sure I know that. I think I hope it, but knowing it is something else, isn’t it?” She wanted to be certain, and some days she could muster it, but…ever since the guys had come back, there were moments when she questioned her place.

“It’s a leap of faith,” Alex said as though it were a simple fact. “Belonging where you’re supposed to be.”

“A leap of faith.” She smiled at that. A leap of faith—yeah, she liked that. Because this had all been, from square one, a leap of faith. To trust Burt. To find her freedom. To make this deal with these men.

Belief and faith and hope. It was what propelled her, and if practical and sturdy Alex believed in leaps of faith, there had to be something to that.

“Is this the place you’re supposed to be?” she asked, not wanting this easy, open conversation to end. There were so few easy, open conversations in her life. She wanted to stretch it out and soak it up.

His eyebrows drew together, but not in confusion or frustration. It was as if he was giving her questions serious thought. “Yeah. I always planned on coming back. Maybe not this soon, but eventually. This is all…different than I planned, but in some ways, it isn’t.”

“We’re going to build something that matters.” The more she said it, the stronger her foundation from which to take that leap of faith grew.

His mouth curved—not quite a smile, but something soft. “Yes, ma’am, we are.”

They sipped their coffee in the icy, rain-soaked air. But the clouds had mostly cleared, and the promise of a sunny day offered the possibility of warmth and drying out a bit.

“The guys and I were talking about going to town tonight. Dinner at Georgia’s. A few drinks at Pioneer Spirit. Relax a little. Get our minds off the mud for a few hours. Show them what Blue Valley has to offer.”

“I think that’s very overdue. You guys deserve a night of fun. Hick and I will be able to stay on calf watch.”

“You should come with us.”

She blinked, and though she gaped at him, he kept staring straight ahead. “Me?” she squeaked.

“You deserve a little fun too, don’t you think? Hick said he can handle it, and he’ll call us if we’re needed. You should come with us. Think of it as one of those corporate team-building exercises.”

“I’ve never…” Georgia’s was one thing, but Pioneer Spirit? She’d never been in a bar before, especially that bar, which was not exactly known for its upstanding clientele. Mom would have locked her in her room for even thinking about going to Pioneer Spirit.

“I’m not going to be offended if you say no.”

“No. I want to go. I just… A bar.” And three men who intimidated her on a social level. Well, that’s what you need to work on, right?

“Tell me you’ve been to a bar before,” he said, clearly amused.

“Sheltered, remember?”

“You shot that whiskey the other night like you had some practice.”

He’d obviously said that without thinking, because tension crept into him. Likely at the reminder of when she’d given him a shot of whiskey—after his nightmare. She was so tempted to poke him, to press him about it, but after her…whatever it was with Gabe last week, she had no desire to relive that.

So she answered the question without any mention of that night in Burt’s office. “A couple months after I turned twenty-one, there was this church trip Mom wanted to go on, but she didn’t want to leave me. Somehow, someway, Burt convinced her to go. Which was a big deal—she’d never been away from me for more than twenty-four hours. Somehow he convinced her to go though. Three days, two nights. The first night she was gone, Burt took me up to the barn and gave me my first drink. Developed a taste for whiskey, gotta admit.” She grinned at him, but there was an odd look on his face.

“On the west side of the barn? Next to the fence?”

It was her turn to give him a quizzical look. “Why do you know that?”

“I came home for a couple days before I was deployed the first time. This was before our parents got married. I’d just turned twenty-one. Granted, I’d had my night out with my buddies at a bar, but the night before I left for Afghanistan, Dad took me out there and gave me a shot of whiskey. Wished me luck and told me to make sure I got my ass home and mostly in one piece.”

Even though it wasn’t her story, Becca felt a little emotional over it. It made her miss Burt and what Alex and Burt might have had.

“Guess I should have told him to keep his ass alive.”

Becca’s throat tightened, but she couldn’t keep herself from talking, from offering, from trying to soothe. “I know you don’t like it or it hurts or whatever when I say things like this, but I can’t keep my mouth shut. He was so proud of you, and he missed you so much.”

“I know you mean well when you say that, but I don’t really want to hear it right now. I’m…”

“Still grieving. That’s okay. I just… I’ll try to stop myself.”

“What’s it matter to you if I know he was proud of me anyway?” Alex muttered, his grip on his coffee mug so tight his knuckles were white.

“Because I loved him. And he loved you. I’ll go inside. Stay. Enjoy your coffee and the sunrise, and I will…” She mimed zipping her lips together.

He shook his head. “You’re a funny girl, Becca Denton.”

“Not a girl,” she muttered, pushing out of the rocking chair.

“I’ve got almost ten years on you.”

“And Burt had almost ten years on my mom.” Which was so not what she should have said. Because that was insinuating…things.

He was quiet for a while and whatever he had going on in his head was all in his head. An unreadable secret. If she had an ounce of sense, she’d stop trying to figure it out.

“FYI, I don’t want to sleep with you.”

She jerked hard enough some coffee sloshed over her mug and spilled onto her fingers. “Excuse me?”

“The guys seem to think I want to sleep with you, and I just want make sure it’s clear that that is not the case.”

She could only stare at him, mouth gaping open, eyes practically bugging out of her head. She’d never even been kissed by a guy, let alone slept with one, and he was sitting there saying…

Well, what she would’ve known always and forever. Of course he wouldn’t want to sleep with her! He was older and mature and had seen and experienced a million things. She was a girl who talked to animals and had never been kissed. Yeah, him not wanting to sleep with her was no surprise. Him announcing it though… What the hell?

He got to his feet. “I just wanted to make that clear.”

“Believe me, I never thought otherwise,” she muttered, even as a blush suffused her face. How were they talking about this?

“The correct answer is, you don’t want to sleep with me either,” he returned.

Before she processed that, he walked inside, Star tagging along after him as Ranger stayed put next to her.

She blinked after Alex, emotions grappling for purchase—embarrassment or shame or the undeniable truth that sleeping with him was quite the interesting prospect.

She tried not to think about that. She’d rather be irritated that he’d declare what the “correct” answer was. Rather be offended he’d be so up front about something like sleeping together. She’d rather be all those things, instead of embarrassed.

And she’d especially rather be all those things than interested.