Page 48 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
Anders followed suit, but guilt and frustration weighed him down. He felt out of sync with everything, including himself and his body. His moves were short and jerky, and he tossed the saddle down on its place on the rack.
“Hey now,” Axel caught his shoulder, his large hands easily spanning and holding him in place.
Just like a big brother should.
Guilt, grief, anger, so many things hit Anders at once that he stilled, unable to sort through half of them.
“You’re off your game. It’s going to translate to the animals, and if you bring it to your work next week you’re going to get hurt.”
That was Axel. Cutting to the heart of it all. His command to talk wasn’t uttered, but it was there in his expression, and Anders felt a weird burning sensation behind his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed the two words out—not what he’d been planning to say.
“For what?”
So muchAnders realized in a stab of clarity that he usually avoided. His brother had been a bull rider—second year on the tour and top of the leaderboard. He’d already had some enthusiasts comparing him to some of the legendary best. And then their father had unexpectedly died, and Axel had come home so Anders could finish his junior and senior years of high school.
Axel had taken over running the ranch and raising his youngest brother, and he’d never once complained, nor had he seemed bitter of his youngest brother’s success.
And now with Tinsley’s well-placed comment about him putting himself in danger with his job and the biggest blow that she didn’t want his kid, he suddenly realized the sacrifice his brother had made. And with a clarity that froze his blood, he knew he might have to make the same one.
Only he’d gotten six years to live his dream. Axel only two.
“You left the tour because of me.”
Axel’s expression—open, searching—closed down, but his hand maintained contact with Anders’ shoulder.
“Of course.”
“That’s it? Of course? You sacrificed a career, a dream job, hundreds of thousands in potential earnings and sponsorships and that’s all you say?”
“Nothing to say.” Axel gave his shoulder a squeeze and let go. He picked up the grooming tools for his horse. Anders grabbed the currycomb and followed where both horses stomped a little impatiently—ready for their reward after their afternoon of work.
Anders followed Axel, feeling like he no longer fit his skin.
“I never thanked you,” he said gruffly as they started brushing down the horses after their long ride. Nocturnal, a horse Axel had purchased and trained a few years ago intending to sell until Anders had taken a shine to her, nuzzled his neck.
“No need.”
Axel meant it. He harbored no resentment. None. While Anders had been seething with it since Tinsley’s angry announcement about being pregnant. He thought he’d been dealing with it, being practical, doing what a man needed to do, but he’d been a dick. Throwing down orders. Not listening. Not making any attempt to understand her feelings at all.
“That’s what families do, right? Sacrifice?”
“If it’s for family, it’s not much of a sacrifice,” Axel said, his deep voice quiet. He snuck his horse, Sundown, a carrot and then another.
“Did you…?” Anders pressed his lips together. Of course his brother would have missed the tour, the challenge, the freedom, the life. And then with a thump, he realized Axel had been about his age when he’d had to walk away from bull riding.
He jerked upright, staring at his brother, who continued grooming Sundown, a new horse he was still working on training as a ranch horse. His movements were smooth and practiced. He didn’t falter or look like anything unusual was happening. And it most definitely was. They were talking.
“Do you think I should quit the tour after the finals?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
Axel did look at him then, and he scratched Sundown’s chin. The horse whinnied and arched into the contact, stomping his hoof, and a smile ghosted Axel’s mouth.
“Lots of riders have families to come home to,” Axel said, and his hand slipped down to hold the bridle to still Sundown’s head bobs. “No more carrots for you.” He scratched the horse’s forelock. “Tinsley want you to quit?”
No judgment. Just a question. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never match Axel’s quiet strength. Ever.
