Page 81 of A Marriage Pact for the Cowboy

“You said you didn’t want a good woman, but that’s the only kind worth building a life with.”

“You’re going to propose to her?” Bryce rolled his eyes.

“Not today or anytime soon, but yeah, that’s where we’re headed.” Warmth settled in Maxwell’s soul. “She’s worth every bit of it.”

“I hear good women want good men, so yay for you, I guess.”

“No one is good, bro. The Bible?—”

Bryce held up his hand. “Don’t even.”

“Sorry, can’t help it. The Bible says there is no one good, no, not one. That’s why Jesus came. You heard it growing up in Sunday school, same as me.”

“But you believed it.”

Maxwell studied his brother. “I can’t make sense of the universe, of nature, of people, of hopes and dreams and satisfaction without that faith.”

“Must be nice to feel so confident. About anything at all.”

“You can, too.”

Bryce shook his head. “I don’t think so. No one cares.”

“I care.”

“Yeah, don’t spout that at me, Maxie. If there’s a God, He’s not interested in the likes of me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You are exactly who God is interested in. You remember the parable Jesus told about leaving the 99 sheep to rescue the one who needed it most?”

Bryce shook his head. “You’re in deep.”

Maxwell looked past his brother to see that others were watching them but giving them space. Eryn and the other women were adding refreshments to the table, not that it had been sparse. “Bryce? I haven’t been a very good brother to you. Sorry about that. But it’s not because I don’t care. Everyone needs a friend.” Just look how Eryn had blossomed over the past couple of months. It hadn’t only been Maxwell. It had been Paisley and Cadence and Kaci and the others, too. Aunt Nadine.

“The thing is…” Bryce raised an eyebrow at Maxwell. “It’s kind of too late.”

“Dude. You’re 30. Grandfather is 82 and look at him. He’ll be out next week for Thanksgiving, and want to make a bet he brings Eleanor for dinner? He’s doing what he can to make amends for the mistakes he made when he was young. There’s no moratorium on fixing things.”

Bryce snorted. “Where there’s life, there’s hope?”

“You’ve got it.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, but thanks, I guess.”

“What’s your biggest regret?” Since everyone was still giving them space, Maxwell might as well go for it.

“You’d never understand.” Bryce lifted his glass. “And also, why are we drinking pop like we’re underage?”

“I happen to want my faculties about me.”

“Figures.” Bryce downed the pop in one gulp. “I might call the evening early.”

“I thought you brought your sleeping bag for the sleepover.”

Bryce shook his head. “Still with the juvenile party. I doubt it. My bed’s more comfortable.”

“We didn’t get to do stuff like this when we were kids.” Both parents had made sure their boys knew they were a cut above the rest of Gilead. “I’m kind of enjoying it now.”

Bryce huffed.

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