Page 8 of The Cowboy Who Looked Again

And worse, she didn’t want to live here. She’d told him she disliked small towns, that she’d been living in Dallas-Fort Worth for the past decade, and she loved the vibrancy of the big city. She loved the fancy restaurants, and the sheer multitude of choices of such things in a place like Dallas.

He wasn’t going to get into this again. He’d already gone over it all when he’d broken up with Misty and then slept at his parents’ house for four nights. He couldn’t go back to that. He simply wouldn’t.

Daddy drove past the main homestead, Bull House, the Ranch House, and around the bend. Past Uncle Judge and Aunt June’s place, and past Aunt Etta and Uncle August’s. He turned into the driveway at the big house where Link had spent the last several years of his childhood, and he sighed. “I don’t want to come in,” he said.

“I can take you home.” Daddy looked over to Momma, and they had a conversation without a word.

Then Momma twisted and looked at Link. “You are the best cowboy in the world, Lincoln.”

He flashed her a smile that slid from his face quickly. “Okay, Momma.”

“I mean it. I don’t want you spiraling over this woman.”

“Okay, Momma,” he said in a quieter voice.

Momma looked at him with pure determination in her eyes. “I love you, my son. Promise me this isn’t going to send you back to February.”

“It’s not going to send me back to February,” he murmured. “I can just walk home, Daddy.” He reached for the door handle and opened it. The Texas summer heat hit him, and Link changed his mind. He pulled the door closed. “Just kidding. It’s hotter than Hades out there. You can drive me.”

Daddy chuckled; Momma slid from the truck; Lincoln let her open the door and hug him tightly. “Come for dinner tomorrow,” she pleaded. “I’ll take the kids to Uncle Ranger’s, and it’ll just be quiet.”

“I’m in,” Daddy said, and that got Link to smile for real.

“Okay,” he said.

“Bring Mitch if you want,” Momma said. “He’s quiet.”

He was in some ways, and in others, he definitely wasn’t. He wondered if Mitch had told anyone else he was considering leaving Shiloh Ridge again, but since Link didn’t know, he didn’t open his mouth and say anything.

“Okay.” Momma stepped back and started to swing the door closed. “I love you, Link.”

“Love you too, Momma.” The door slammed, and Daddy waited for Momma to make it to the front door before he started around the circular driveway and the road they’d just been on. He continued down another small jog, then turned left and headed along a road that split the ranch nearly in half from north to south.

The cowboy cabins where Link lived sat along this road, and out of the six of them, only four were full. The ranch had a few more cabins up in the hills just below the Top Cottage, but while they’d renovated them a few years ago, those usually only got lived in when the ranch brought in seasonal help around harvest time, for branding, or for planting.

Daddy pulled into the driveway at Link’s cabin, which was the second one down the lane. He put the truck in park and exhaled. “Where you at tonight?”

“Checking fences and gates in sector four,” Link said without thinking. Yes, he needed to go change out of his fancy wedding clothes and get back into his working cowboy jeans and plaid shirt. He’d saddle his horse and go check on their security to make sure they didn’t lose domesticated animals to the wild things that lived beyond the borders of the ranch.

“I’ll go with,” Daddy said, and that was the same as him saying he’d support Link in whatever he decided. Even if he said he wanted to get back together with Misty. Even if he said he wanted to leave the ranch and go strike his way in the world. Yes, Bear Glover had always been exceptional at championing Link, and his emotions surged.

He opened the door and slid from the backseat while Daddy did the same up front. He met Link on the sidewalk, and they went into the cabin together. “Smells interesting in here,” he said as he closed the door behind him, sealing in the air conditioning—and the leftover scent of whatever Cutter had burnt for dinner.

Daddy looked left and right, which wasn’t big enough to do more than once. “We need to talk about you gettin’ your own place.”

Link didn’t argue as he went down the hall to the bedroom he shared with Mitch. Usually only two cowboys shared a cabin, but he and Mitch had grown up together, and neither of them minded sharing with the other.

He pulled his tie loose as Daddy filled the doorway. “Link.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” he muttered. He unbuttoned his shirt and shed it, then started working on his belt. “I don’t have much, and certainly not enough to fill a house.” He looked over his shoulder to his father. “I have no wife, no family. You could build me a house that’s way too big or far too small. It’s too soon. I don’t need it.”

He stepped out of his slacks and into his jeans, then reached for his shirt before he faced Daddy again. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Why?” Link asked, because he’d really like to know. “Because you think I’m going to go back to Misty and get my heart broken again? Or because I’m not moving past her fast enough and going out with someone new? Or because I’m frozen, standing still, while everyone and everything moves forward around me?”

As he spoke, he realized he was afraid of everything he’d just said. He’d never held back with his daddy, and he saw no reason to now. “Because I’m worried about all three. But a house of my own won’t fix any of ‘em.”

---