Page 9 of The Roper & the Author

“I felt something with Marci,” Easton admitted in a quiet, reflective voice. “I think she might be the woman to help me move on and finally get over Cassie.” He paused. “She might betheone, bruh.”

Walker was certain someone had just shoved an ice pick through his heart. He was in pain and frozen all the way through, ice seeping from his heart and dripping slowly, agonizingly through his veins.

“Oh,” he managed, trying to think what to say.Walkerhad felt something with Marci. He was certain of it. But in allhonesty, a few weeks ago he’d thought Lily was the right woman for him. Maybe he wasn’t the devoted man he thought he was. Maybe he was fickle and any beautiful woman could capture him. If that was true, why hadn’t he fallen for the dozens of beautiful cowgirls on the rodeo circuit and worshipful female fans he interacted with regularly at the rodeos? Most of whom pursued him relentlessly.

The only thing that felt true and real right now was his connection to Marci. How could his twin brother feel the same?

“I could settle down with Marci, give up flirting with any other woman, and finally heal from Cassie.”

Easton said this all softly, very different from his normal tone of voice, but Walker took it all harshly.HisMarci could be the one to help Easton heal? He’d give up being a womanizer for her? It was surreal but an answer to his and mama’s prayers. If only it wasn’t Marci.

“Yeah. But …” Easton swallowed and his gaze became piercing. “You were giving her moony looks and saying some rizzy lines earlier. Very uncharacteristic for my best bruh. If you felt a connection and think you could move on from Lily …” He shook his head, took off his hat, hit it against his leg, and shook his head again. “I want you happy, bro. Even if we tease or fight, you know your happiness is the most important thing to me.”

Walker couldn’t catch a breath. Now somebody was twisting that ice pick they’d shoved through his heart.

Marci had to be Walker’s ‘one’, not Easton’s.

Was he being selfish and short-sighted? Had the earth not moved when he and Marci locked gazes the first time?

Only a couple weeks ago, he’d tried to force Clint to give him a chance with Lily and that had been all wrong. He was embarrassed even thinking about how selfish he’d acted. No way would he do that with another brother, especially his twin. He needed some serious time on his knees to pray for clear visionand unselfishness. If Easton was after Marci, and his brother thought she might help him move past Cassie, then Walker definitely needed to realign his thinking.

It gouged at his heart to even think about giving her up to Easton. He instinctively wanted to fight for Marci. The sad truth was he didn’t know Marci Richards. She was beautiful, funny, and unique, but he’d probably blown out of proportion the connection he’d felt. He must’ve imagined his feelings all wrong. It was a very good thing he’d be gone the next few days.

“You’re the best, Easton,” he said, his voice thick. “No way would I …” He had to clear his throat and force himself to continue. “No way would I go after Marci if you felt something special with her. I’ll pray it’s the right thing for both of you and you can finally heal from Cassie and be with the… right woman for you.”

His entire body, even his soul, rebelled at the words. Marci couldn’t be right for Easton. She was meant to be Walker’s.

Easton stared at him for a few beats and Walker could’ve sworn his brother’s blue eyes looked suspiciously bright. Then he lunged at him. Walker instinctively backed up—Easton had gotten a good sucker punch in too many times—but his brother didn’t hit him. He threw his arms around him and clasped him in a tight hug.

Easton pulled back quickly and grinned. “Thank you.You’rethe best, bruh. I don’t know how I’d go on without you. Love you.”

“Oh … thanks, man. Love you too.” It was getting a little too deep.

“Sorry it’s getting cringy.” Easton expressed what Walker was feeling with the teenage slang he liked to tease with, picked up from the younger rodeo crowd.

“All right,” Walker said. “I’m heading to my cabin. Need to pack and rest up for tomorrow.” Rest up to sit on an airplane?While Easton stayed next to Marci. What a joke and a nightmare. Walker forced a smile. “Good luck.”

It hurt him to say good luck to his own brother. If only he hadn’t felt his own powerful draw to the enchanting Marci. He’d learned some lessons in humility with the Clint and Lily situation, but apparently he needed to learn them all over again.

“You know I won’t need luck. Every woman falls for me.” Easton grinned and Walker had the awful desire to punch his twin brother in the mouth, knock that grin into next week and make it impossible for him to grin at Marci or kiss her. Easton could spend the next few days in Kalispell getting reconstructive surgery instead of kissing and holding Marci.

Easton kissing and holding Marci … Walker was going to be sick if he imagined Easton with sweet, funny, enticing Marci in his arms. It was heaven sent that Walker was leaving for the next four days. Why did it feel like yanking out his permanent molars without Novocain to walk away from Marci, to give her up to Easton without a fight?

“Too true,” Walker managed to grit out, yanking his hat off and running his hand through his hair then jamming it back on. “Night.”

He turned and strode along the path through the trees that was a shortcut to his cabin, but then he kept on walking. Thankfully there was an almost full moon as he stomped along the road that led to the lake. How was he going to let Marci go? Give up his dreams of forever with his perfect woman?

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at himself. Marci had never been his. They didn’t have some special connection. By the time he got back from Amarillo, she’d either be in Walker’s arms or back home in Florida.

In his selfish heart, he prayed she’d be back in Florida.

Then he humbled himself and prayed Easton and Marci could find happiness. He loved Easton, flesh of his flesh. He wanted his brother ecstatically happy.

Just not with Marci.

He’d not only fallen off his horse with his foot still in the stirrup, but his well-trained roping mare was also dragging him through the dirt.

He hung his head and kept praying.

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