Page 60 of Live for Me

Then, he was out of the truck, coming around to open my door.

Once my boots were on the ground, he turned, heading towards the beautiful, old two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch. The front door opened, and Denver’s teenage son, Caleb, stepped out, wearing boots, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black cowboy hat. He was the spitting image of his father, bringing up memories of the past, when all of us were kids, running around this ranch in the summer.

“Caleb,” Beau greeted. “Val here?”

The young man nodded, chewing on a piece of gum as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah, she just put NJ down for a nap.”

Beau and I stopped at the bottom step of the porch. I tilted my head back to look at the boy as he assessed me with guarded eyes. Then, he took a step down. “I remember you,” he stated plainly.

“You’ve grown up,” I said, my voice hoarse.

Caleb looked out to the field behind me. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens, I guess.”

“Jigs is down in the barn,” Beau cut in. “I’m sure he has some chores for you.”

Caleb went down the final two steps. “I’m sure the old man does,” he grumbled, brushing by me and heading in the direction of the barn and bunkhouse.

“You signed up for this,” Beau called out to his back.

Caleb turned around, smirking. “I signed up to take over the ranch, not work it.”

“One and the same, buddy,” Beau replied.

“Yeah, yeah,” Caleb said, waving his hand, disappearing down the hill.

I felt Beau move then, walking up the steps. He knocked softy on the screen door and called out for Valerie.

“Come in,” a soft voice called.

Beau looked at me over his shoulder. “Come on.”

I moved quickly as he held the door open for me. I turned to see him stepping inside and taking off his hat. He hung it on one of the hooks on the wall and looked around me.

“I’m in the dining room,” the feminine voice called from down the hall.

Beau moved then, not sparing me a glance as his boots hit the hardwoods, carrying him down the hallway. I turned in a slow circle in the middle of the foyer, taking everything in for a moment. The stairs were still the same, the floors were still the same, the walls still a lovely cream color. I stepped into the livingroom, the smell of roses and lavender hitting me as my eyes landed on the rocking chair in the corner by the fireplace.

That was Jane Langston’s chair, Mason and Denver’s momma.

I’d only met her once, in town. She’d taken the boys out for ice cream. I remember how beautiful she was, how her hair glowed, fragments of her smile. She was an angel, a damn good mom. The complete opposite of mine.

I felt heat behind me then, and Beau’s scent surrounded me. “I have to go handle something,” he informed me gruffly. “I’ll be back a bit later to get you.”

I turned around, my brows coming together. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Am I not staying here?”

Beau’s eyes were piercing and cold as he said, “You’re staying with me.”

Shaking my head, I took a step back. “I’m not wanted in the bunkhouse. I already told—”

“We aren’t staying in the bunkhouse.”

I stared at him.

He said nothing for a moment, taking me in. Then, he bent his head, muttering something about a curse.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he sighed. “Look, you know this house. You know where everything is. Valerie is in the dining room on a phone call. She said you can make yourself at home. I’ll be back to pick you up later.” He turned, his boots carrying him away from me.

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