Page 5 of When We Break

“That’s what the chairs are for,” she reminds me. “Since it’s quiet in here, I’m going to run next door for a coffee. Would you like one?”

“Just a black Earl Grey tea would be lovely. Thank you.”

“You got it. Back in a few.”

Riley and I settle in our favorite spot. The purple chair is deep and cozy, and Bee added a dog bed next to it just for Riley. He turns in a circle and lies down, but he’s still on alert.

“Good boy.” I rub his head before I open the book and get sucked into this talented author’s words.

Bee drops off the tea, then bustles back to work. I enjoy an hour by the window, reading and relaxing, until I finally decide to head over to the studio to prepare for my afternoon class. It was a good choice to come to Bitterroot Valley. My ankle might not have full range of motion, but I’m strangely content and at peace.

So bloody thankful.

ChapterTwo

BECKETT

“Tell me you hired him,” Brad, my foreman, declares when I walk into the milking barn after waving off the applicant I just interviewed.

“I hired him.” I nod, pushing my hat off my forehead. “And I hired the two from yesterday.”

“We won’t know what to do with a fully staffed team.” He grins. “But I’m damn happy about it. You need some time off.”

“We all need fucking time off,” I reply. “And I’m grateful you guys have put in extra hours and all your hard-ass work through the winter.”

“You gave us bonuses,” Brad points out, “and you didn’t have to. Hopefully, the load lightens up as we get closer to summer.”

I nod, but I’m not hopeful. The new guest ranch side of things is going to send me to an early grave.

Someone should have beat me with a bullwhip when I came up with the idea of building guest cabins. I’ve had enough on my plate with dairy operations that run pretty much twenty-four seven. I didn’t need the added work of tourists.

I was naive and didn’t expect they’d be so…needy.

“I have the afternoon milking.” Brad shoos me off. “And the cleanup.”

“I’ll go check on the calves. Jack and Ham will work on the evening feeding.”

Brad nods, and we’re off to handle our chores.

Before I head to the house for the night, I check on the cottage cheese and other projects in the processing barn, and when I’m satisfied, I pull out my phone and send a group text to my brothers.

Me: I’m actually done at a decent time this evening, and I need a beer. Let’s go to the Wolf Den. Dinner’s on me.

I walk into the farmhouse I grew up in, shed my dirty boots and jacket in the mudroom, then snag a banana on my way through the kitchen to the stairs leading up to my bedroom.

I inherited the ranch from my parents when they retired to Florida a few years ago. I’m not the eldest brother, that’s Brooks’s job, but I’m the one who’s worked the farm and loved this place since I was a kid.

My phone vibrates with incoming messages.

Brooks: One hour?

Blake: I’m in.

Bridger: I’ll be there.

I grin and hit reply.

Me: See you in one hour.

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