Page 7 of Fragile Heart

“Be safe,” Ethan says, as serious as ever.

I nod before heading to my bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. It only takes me a few minutes to throw on a new shirt and grab my go bag. I sling it over my shoulder, shoving my phone into the pocket of my jeans. I keep the lights in the garage off, working off muscle memory as I situate myself in my truck and ease it out of the space. Another text from Sam comes through as I’m heading away from the modest house.

Pulling in the LATs for this one. Just bring yourself.

The sun is just cresting over the horizon, its rays a pale orange today, as I nudge the truck onto the highway, heading north toward Jackson and the small, private airstrip where I keep both of my planes in a private hangar.

The itchyneedjust under my sternum doesn’t lessen, though, and by the time I’m prepping my Cessna, I’m fighting back the urge to pull up the dating app I downloaded last week in desperation. Fucking that Beta last night clearly hadn’t been enough. I resist the urge, though. It’s not worth the fighting with Ethan.

Doesn’t change the fact that I clearly need something to change, though.

Chapter Four

ETHAN

Pivoting to being the single parent takes more time than I’d hoped to lose this morning. By the time I have Camden and his three favorite cars packed into the backseat of the truck, the sun has already crested the horizon. And my bad mood has soured and petrified into something dark and oozing. Emily’s teal Jeep sitting in front of our parents’ place adds the fucking cherry on top that I absolutely do not need.

It’s such a happy color to be the omen of everything going wrong. Because, without fail, if Emily is at our parents’ place before me on a work day, something is guaranteed to go wrong. And while Saturdays aren’t typical work days for me, I have no hope that it will fare any differently from typical. Facing several long hours in the saddle moving cattle, it’s enough to have me cursing.

Camden perks up in the backseat, looking up from his cars.

“Is Aunt Emily watching me?” he asks. “But you said Nana.”

I frown. “I’m not sure, kid. Grandma said she was going to watch you. Maybe they’re working on a project together.”

It would at least mean that she wasn’t here at the literal sunrise to botherme.

Camden doesn’t say anything, and I focus on getting the truck parked beside the Jeep and getting him unbuckled. He holds my hand as he climbs down. His blond hair just passes his ears, needing another trim. His cheeks are starting to thin out, the last of the baby fat fading with every passing day.

Goddamnhe looks like Brandon. He has Kayla’s bright blue eyes. But everything else? You could misconstrue him in pictures for his father.

The moment his feet touch the ground, he’s bolting up the porch steps. His happy shriek as he gets to the front door alerts everyone in the sprawling farmhouse that we’re here.

Mom and Dad’s house sits on the western portion of the ranch, nestled against the rolling hills that gatekeep the larger peaks to the north. In the same clearing, scattered far enough apart to not feel overly crowded, stand two barns, a large detached garage, and an independent workshop that doubles as an office if I really want one. Our bookkeeper and administrative help maintain offices in town, though there’d be room here if they wanted it. The buildings combine together into bookends to the sprawling farmhouse.

It’s a large enough meadow that it’s easier to drive to any of the buildings than actually walk. Sometimes I still opt to walk, though, needing the time to clear my head. Especially if I’m prepping to be in the saddle all day.

I’d thought this discontent would have gotten better over the last year. Instead, it seems to grow with every week that Cam gets older. And knowing that Caleb is happily fucking strangers again just adds a stab under my ribs that makes me want to punch something. I heave a sigh and look toward the barns.

Beau waves at me once before disappearing into the barn nearest the workshop, already working to saddle up Megarawhere he keeps her stabled with the other ranch hands’ horses—a perk of employment here if they want to utilize it. The other one, the one that’s closest to the farmhouse, is for our own private horses. Nearly all of us have at least one personal horse, though Caleb and I have several each. Even Melissa keeps her horses here rather than the semi-public barns that house the recreation ranch’s trail horses.

The door opens, and Mom steps onto the porch, snapping me out of my thoughts. She’s swapped her typical gray robe for a set of black sweats and a pale blue cardigan, but her hair is still in rollers. Her morning coffee is held carefully in one hand, and she holds it away from her body to keep it from spilling on Camden as he slams into her.

“Good morning,” she says, hugging him.

“Morning!” he says and then rushes by her, slipping into the house. No doubt he’s on his way to the toys we keep here, needing to find the perfect companion options for his cars today.

I grab his bag from the passenger seat. Mom meets me at the top of the porch stairs. She hugs me, her slight arms wrapping around my waist.

“Thanks for the help,” I tell her as I pull away.

She waves a hand. “Always happy to watch Cam, you know that. Beau’s already been by to grab a thermos of coffee. He mentioned you guys will be out for a few hours at least.”

I nod and cross the porch, following my son inside. I toe off my shoes, not missing Mom’s eagle-eyed glare from where she stands just behind me, holding open the screen door.

“They’re all the way out on the Forest Service land. It’ll take a while to get them in. Hoping to be done in time for lunch.”

Camden looks up from where he’s building a ramp out of blocks for his cars, using the armrest of the couch as a starting point.

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