Page 43 of Live for Me

I nodded. “Abbie still here?”

A grunt came from him. “She is, but not where you want her.”

My muscles tensed, my back snapping straight. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Relax, Beau. She’s fine,” he said, taking another drag and walking by me, his spurs jingling as he went. Mine joined his as I followed him out of the barn, pulling off my hat. We stopped just outside the barn, my hand running through my hair, my body wanting sleep. “She’s just not in the bunkhouse.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I looked up to the main house, my brows coming together. I could understand Val inviting her to stay in the guest room, but I also knew Denver wouldn’t allow that. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Denver Langston wasn’t a fan of my ex. He would allow her to stay on his ranch, but in his house? That was a far stretch.

“Valerie found her then, yeah?” I assumed.

Mags dropped the bud of his cigarette on the ground, putting his boot over it and grinding it into the dirt and gravel.

“She’s at Mason’s, Beau.”

My head jerked. “What?”

“Soon as Harmony heard she was here, she came running, and despite Mase’s protests, Abbie ended up going with them,” he explained.

Harmony and Abbie?

“Is she okay? Was everyone alright?”

Mags’ dark eyes slid over to me. “Beau, I came out here for you about two hours ago. I wasn’t here when all that shit went down,” he grumbled, sounding thankful. “The twins caught me up on everything.”

I looked over to the bunkhouse, a new form of guilt settling over my shoulders.

“I should’ve come back,” I muttered.

“No, you needed time.”

My head shook, and I turned back to him, ready to disagree, but he leveled me with a look. “You’re wound tight, Beau. Notelling what would’ve happened if you came back this afternoon without distancing yourself for a bit,” he said, his voice quiet. “You brought her back to where you’re trying to heal. It also happens to be the place where she hurt you—deeply.” He looked away, his eyes scanning the bunkhouse, the corral, and then the dark fields beyond it underneath his hat. “Hallow Ranch is your home, but it’s also your own version of hell. No one blames you for needing time, even if it was just a few hours.”

His words pierced something inside my soul.

Hallow Ranch is your home, but it’s also your own version of hell.

My throat worked. and when he looked back at me, I murmured, “This was never supposed to be my hell.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t get to decide where our heaven and hells are. That’s fate’s choice.” After a few moments of silence, he asked, “Now, are you alright? Or do I need to stay?”

That was Mags.

A lonely man.

A broken cowboy.

A damn good friend.

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Go back to your cabin. Get some sleep. We both need it.”

He grunted and readjusted his hat. “Damn right about that,” he grumbled, moving away from me, heading to his four-wheeler. “See you in the morning.”

I waited until his headlights were in the field, facing the tree line, before I moved, walking to the bunkhouse. With one hand on the doorknob, I looked up to the moon one last time. “My life was never supposed to be like this,” I whispered to the night sky, praying someone up there would realize their mistake.

Chapter Eleven

Abbie

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