Page 57 of Auctioned to the Cowboys

Her eyes widen, but I don’t stop. “I know that Clint is hiding a secret that is wedged into his soul like a jagged piece of broken glass. He’s a good man, but he doesn’t believe he deserves any kind of goodness back. I just… I know I can make them happy. I know I can love them… I do love them. But none of it matters if Jesse loses you in the process, Beth. Don’t you see? He can’t make a new family if his existing family isn’t behind him. It’s tearing him apart.”

She glances away, focusing on the children in the garden, but her arms unfold, and she holds onto the counter in front of her.

“If you want me to, I’ll sign something. Something to say that no matter what happens, I have no claim to anything at the ranch. I want to build my own business, not rely on anyone else to take care of me and my sister.” Her eyes narrow again, but I’m not holding anything back. She needs to know it all, just like her brother.

“Jesse, Maverick, and Clint helped me rescue my sister last night, and she’s staying at the ranch with us now.”

A flicker of irritation passes through her pinched expression. I was wrong to think she’s softening. The color rises in her cheeks, and she grasps at the counter, her fingers turning white. “I understand that you might want something different for your brother. A traditional wife who’ll fit into the community in a way that maybe I won’t be able to. Someone you approve of in advance. But he’s forty, Beth. He’s been through enough life to know what he wants. If that’s me, all I can be is grateful. I’ll always be grateful that he chose me. But I won’t let him if it means he loses you, too.”

“What are you saying?”

“That I’ll leave them all if you tell me to, Beth. I won’t be a wedge in anyone’s family. Family is too important. I know because I lost mine. All I have left is Molly, and I wouldn’t let anything come between us, even Jesse.”

She blinks, shocked, but before she can respond, footsteps pound outside.

“Mommy!” We both look towards the back door where Holt is standing. “Katherine fell off the swing. She’s crying.”

Beth is off before I can even react, her mom instincts in overdrive. I rush behind, shocked to find Katherine on the ground, clutching her head. The tips of her fingers are tinged with red.

“Jesus,” Beth yells, dropping to her knees. Holt’s frozen ten feet away, crying as he stares at the panicky scene. “Sweetie. Let me see.”

Katherine, who’s sobbing noisily, allows her mom to pull her hand away from the wound. Beth squints and gently touches her daughter’s forehead. Her gaze rises to meet mine.

“Taylor, could you get some water and a cloth? The first aid box is below the sink.”

I dash back into the kitchen, seeking out the well-stocked box and pouring water into a small bowl. I return and kneel on the grass next to Beth and Katherine. Holt has now moved closer and stopped crying, his interest focused on what will happen next.

“It’s a small cut,” Beth says. “I think she must have landed on a small stone in the grass.”

I pass Beth a wet cloth, and she dabs gently around the cut while Katherine squints against anticipated pain. In the first aid box, I find antiseptic spray, butterfly strips, and a wound dressing, getting everything ready.

“Yeah. It’s small.”

“Thank goodness.”

Beth passes me the cloth and gradually dresses Katherine’s wound. When she’s done, she presses a fierce kiss to the top of her daughter’s head. “I’m sorry that happened to you, sweetie. But I hope it’s all fixed up now.”

“I want one, too,” Holt says.

“They always want to be the same,” Beth smiles, holding out a hand so I can pass her a bandage. When Holt is satisfied with his bandage, I stand and hold out a hand to help Beth. She takes it and assists Katerine in turn.

“You know what I have inside that always makes boo-boos feel so much better?” I say with a theatrical voice.

Katherine sniffs, but she glances at the backdoor, intrigued. “What?”

“Chocolate brownies.”

“Can we have one?” Holt asks his mom.

Beth studies me, the uncertainty still there, but in a watered-down form.

“If you’ve finished your soup.”

“We did, Mom,” Katherine says, already trotting towards the house, closely followed by her twin. Inside, Beth lifts the lid and offers the brownies to the kids first before taking one for herself and offering me one. We all bite into them simultaneously, and Beth closes her eyes, making a soft, contented sound.

Katherine smiles with chocolatey teeth. “Good,” she says, with her mouth still full. Closing her eyes momentarily, she relishes the flavor. I know they’re one of my best batches to date, laced with rose water to make them even more intoxicating. I tuck a strand of Katherine’s hair behind her ear, happy to see her coloring returning to normal.

“Can I have some water?” Holt asks, tugging at his mom’s sleeve.

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