Page 52 of Coming Home to Maverick

“Me too.”

He grabbed her hand again, and they walked slowly toward the bridge, the thing growing in height with every step.

Then Bailey made her way to the side where a long metal railing started at the ground and lifted in a gradual slope to the top of the bridge. The metal had large bolts at intervals, just large enough to grip with her hands and use as a foot brace as she climbed to the top.

Maverick grunted behind her. “Don’t look down.”

“No way. Not ’til I’m sitting at the top.” She remembered the view was amazing. It was even more awesome when a train raced beneath them, practically touching their dangling feet. But that rarely happened.

She climbed higher.

“I still like this view I’ve got right now.”

She snorted. “You did not just say that.”

“Well, why not? I love you in a pair of tight jeans.”

Her laugh carried out over the area beneath them. “Unfair timing.”

“What? ’Cause you can’t retaliate?”

“No, ’cause I can’t do anything fun about it.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

She pushed on. They were almost at the top, and inching out over the top of the bridge required concentration.

“Easy now,” Maverick cautioned.

“Yeah.” The ground seemed so very far away. “Maybe not the best idea.”

“We’ll be careful. And then maybe not do this again.” He laughed. “Our younger selves would be rolling their eyes at us.”

“Oh, we’d be shamed.” But she had Gracie to think about now, and he had his whole family depending on him.

“How’s the ranch and everything?” She eased out over the top on hands and knees, then scooted forward to make room for Maverick behind her.

“Not great.”

Shocked at his answer, she maneuvered so that she could turn around to face him.

He carefully straddled the top of the bridge and then let out a long exhale. “That was way scarier than I remembered.”

He hadn’t yet met her eyes. But she waited. Something was bothering him.

“I’m a mess.”

“Maverick, you are not a mess.”

“No, I am. All the guys are mad at me, Mama’s worried. I keep getting after everyone to do their job. And the ranch is losing money. The guys aren’t all in. Until Mama looks at us all with her soft sad eyes and talks about Dad—then everyone bucks up and works harder. I was happy to take over, sort of, but suddenly I’m wanting the guys to pick up more of the slack.”

“As they should. Why does it all fall on you?”

“’Cause Dad left it to me.”

“But I’m sure he was thinking you would delegate, right? Hand out responsibilities?”

“Probably, but it’s different telling my brothers what to do.”

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