Page 15 of Cruel Expectations

She needed to step up her game.

And she wanted to.

Now that he wasn’t here, she needed to be there for her family.

She already suspected things were amiss when her credit card was declined. Obviously her father was neglecting his bills, perhaps avoiding life as depression took over.

She folded the letter and tucked it away along with the photo, but not before stealing one last look at the faces of her brother and his friends.

Dry-eyed, she looked at Meadow. “Let’s go see Daddy.”

Meadow searched her face. “Are you all right?”

She pushed out a small breath. “Yes. I’m fine. I mean…” she faltered. “It’s hard. But I’m all right.”

Her sister settled a hand on her arm. “You know I’m here for you, Ivy. I always will be. We have each other, and that will never change.”

She nodded and squeezed her sister’s fingers where they lay on her forearm. “I’m here for you too, sissy.”

The old name she called Meadow when they grew up riding their bikes to the creek and coming back sunburned with scabby knees brought a warm feel to the truck.

“Was that a photo of Forest with his friends?” Meadow asked.

She nodded. “Colton and Hunter and a bunch of others I don’t know. I’ll show you later.”

“I’d like to see. I wonder why he sent you a picture but not me or Daddy?”

She gulped around a new lump that threatened that big, solid dam she’d spent years and years building. She shored it up and swallowed hard.

“I’m not sure why he sent it to me.” Even as she spoke the words, she could guess.

Forest had sent proof that she and Meadow were not alone—his Navy SEAL family had become their family.

He’d sent Colton to Meadow.

And Hunter can shovel manure.

* * * * *

Hunter drew in a deep breath of the breeze blowing at his face, relieved that it didn’t carry notes of antiseptic and sickness like the hospital in Germany.

It definitely didn’t smell like blood.

He studied the horses in the paddock. Three were nibbling at a big round bale of hay in the corner. Two were dozing in the sun. All of them were strong-bodied, with the agile legs that made them fast.

“Good stock.”

If Colton was surprised, he didn’t show it. He nodded. “Meadow trains them and sells them at auction. Breeds them too. It’s big business for the Gracey.”

The Gracey. He talked about the ranch like it was a living being. Someone to honor and care for.

Following the grand tour of the enormous spread, Hunter could understand how Colton’s mind worked. The sprawling ranch that lazily stretched to the purple foothills looming before the sharp, jagged peaked mountains in the distance had him feeling the most alive he’d felt since the dawn before Operation Nicklaus.

Even thinking about that op made him inwardly cringe. He turned his attention to the horses again.

Colton stood next to him, legs braced and arms folded in a pose Hunter had seen him in often when they were discussing strategy—which made him wonder what Colton was holding back.

“I probably should have asked this before, but can you ride?”

---