Page 28 of Wrangled Love

She smirks. “I see you found my spiked hot chocolate.”

I lift the mug to my lips and take a sip. “My whiskey-to-cocoa ratio highly favors the whiskey, but I’m not sorry about it.”

She chuckles, scooting a little closer to nudge my leg playfully. “Maybe it’ll soften that serious expression of yours.”

“Let’s hope so,” I tease before glancing out at the fields ahead of us.

A deep breath fills my lungs with fresh air, the silence settling around me like a blanket. After the constant buzz of the city, I realize I missed the peace and quiet far more than I thought I ever would.

My body tenses when Briar’s hand brushes mine as she pulls away. The warmth of her touch shoots straight through me, and when I meet her gaze, she’s studying me—a silent acknowledgment that we both felt the shift between us.

She’s the first to break eye contact, yet I can’t look anywhere else. Her hair dances in the breeze, and the intoxicating scent of sun-warmed leather fills the air. Briar Halstead is undeniably beautiful, but part of what makes her so captivating is the warmth in her voice when she speaks to Caleb and the unapologetic boldness when she stands her ground.

“Am I making you feel like you can’t be in your own house?” It’s been on my mind since earlier this afternoon.

Her gaze softens, an inquisitive frown tugging at her brow. “What makes you think that?”

“You haven’t been around much in the evenings, and I figured the cottage would be where you’d want to spend your time after a long day.”

A smirk crosses her face. “Jensen Harding, have you been keeping tabs on me? If you wanted my attention, there are easier ways.”

Heat creeps up my neck, and I tug my shirt collar loose. “What? No. I just don’t want you to feel like Caleb and I are crowding your space. We’re guests and don’t want to overstep our welcome this early on.” I stumble over my words, and I can see Briar hiding a small smile behind her mug.

God, this is embarrassing. I’ve never had trouble talking to women, but now I’m tripping over my tongue with zero finesse while Briar watches, clearly entertained by every second.

“I wanted to give you both the chance to settle in without getting in the way.” She raises her hand when I open my mouth to speak. “But rest assured, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

“Good.” I pause, trying to maintain a neutral expression. “Caleb will be glad to hear that.”

So am I.

Briar wraps her blanket tighter around her waist, resting her cocoa in her lap as she meets my gaze. When she speaks, her voice is low. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I reply.

“How are you doing? I know your world has been turned upside down.”

My first instinct is to shut her down and say I don’t want to talk about it. But she’ll only feel more comfortable with me if I’m willing to meet her halfway and let down my guard. Besides, I appreciate her wanting to better understand my situation and how Caleb and I ended up here.

“That’s a loaded question,” I admit, pausing to knock back a long swallow of spiked hot cocoa, welcoming the heat hitting the back of my throat. “Finding out I’m a dad has been incredible, but it’s also painful knowing that Amelia kept it from me for so long. Now I’m just trying to figure out fatherhood and find ways to connect with my son until he’s comfortable speaking again. It’s a lot to process.” I run my thumb along the rim of my mug.

Briar rests her hand on my leg, her expression filled with compassion. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve gone through or how devastating it must have been to find out you’d missed the first five years of Caleb’s life.”

I scoff, a dull ache settling in my chest. “That would have been the normal response. Yet all I felt was frustration and confusion toward the woman who kept my son from me. She robbed me of precious time with him, and I’ll never get it back.”

Maybe it’s unfair of me to hold on to the disappointment. Amelia must have had a good reason to make the choices she did, but the fallout of those landed on my shoulders. I don’t know the specifics of her cancer battle or exactly how long she was sick, but I do know this much: she had time.

Time to call.

Time to explain.

Time to give Caleb a chance to meet his father.

Hell, I would’ve been there for her during her battle withcancer, taking care of Caleb while she fought. I may never know why she didn’t reach out for help, and that haunts me.

There’s so much I would’ve asked if I’d had the chance. When did Caleb’s love for dinosaurs begin, what’s his favorite color, and why does he prefer Swiss cheese over cheddar? All are things I may never get the answer to because Amelia kept my son from me, and Caleb may never tell me himself.

I wish I could make peace with what Amelia did, but every time I look at Caleb, I’m reminded of everything I missed—and the silence she left behind is utterly deafening.

---