Page 10 of A Forever Kind of Rancher

She missed her anger.

It had been so bright and glorious and wonderful. And far too fleeting.

But it had fueled her for a while there and now she was just...

Well, she was at Boone’s house.

She sucked in a sharp breath and killed the engine on the truck. She got out and the girls followed suit. Then she went around to the bed of the truck to start gathering their bags.

Boone walked out the front door.

“You made it,” he said.

She stopped, and she wished she didn’t feel like she’d been hit by a train, because she did. Just looking at him. She’d known him now going on fifteen years, and she couldn’t understand how or why the man still did this to her.

“Yes,” she said. “We did. Kind of a long drive.”

“Not as far as Arizona.” The corner of his mouth lifted.

She didn’t smile back. “Yes.” She moved to the bed of the truck to grab her bag, but he started moving toward her purposefully.

“You don’t need to get anything,” he said, and then he reached into the back of the truck and plucked up her bag, her daughters’ bags and a suitcase, which he lifted up over his shoulder. “Your place is just a walk out back here,” he said, gesturing behind his grand house.

She stared at him. At the way he held all her baggage so easily.

It was a very weird metaphor to be confronted with right in this moment, and was it bad that she wanted him to carry it all? Was it bad that she was tired? That she wanted him to carry her worldly possessions in his strong arms and over his shoulders because she was just so damned tired of...everything?

Yes, it’s bad. You need to figure out how to stand on your own. That’s your problem. You let a man carry you for too long.

Well, that wasn’t fair. Daniel hadn’t carried her, but she’d wound herself around him so tightly that cutting ties was painful.

Difficult.

But it wasn’t the same as being carried.

But she figured she could also chill out and not see her literal baggage as a metaphor. Because physically Boone was stronger than her and he knew where the house was, so why not follow him?

“How was the drive, girls?”

“Good,” said Mikey, “we played the alphabet game and also discussed elaborate ways men should die.”

“We didn’t do that,” said Wendy quickly.

“Wouldn’t blame you if you did,” said Boone.

“Not you, of course,” Sadie said.

“Appreciate it, Sadie,” Boone responded.

Boone had always had a decent rapport with the girls. It was weird that right now it made her feel...lightheaded.

But Boone had been that fun uncle figure when he’d been around, which had been often enough, and of course the girls enjoyed him.

It turned out their dad also thought of himself as a fun uncle. Which really didn’t work when you were supposed to be a husband and father.

The path behind the house led to a cottage. It was small, with freshly planted flowers all around the front, and two hanging baskets with flowers on the porch.

It was beautiful. Small, she wondered if the girls would see it as a major downgrade. But right then...she saw it as salvation.

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