Page 52 of One Night Bride
Wyatt shook his head. “Nah. Nothing is hopeless. I got Oakley shot, and she still forgave me. Go to him, E.”
Oakley nudged me. “Just apologize and mean it. We all saw the way he looked at you. That cowboy loves you.”
I shook my head, trying to bat down the hope that flared in my gut. “I don’t think it’s that easy. I hung him out to dry with no consideration for his feelings.”
Vee popped up on my other side, the little eavesdropper. “Then you better make the apology fucking good, missy.”
“Watch your mouth, Ulva Waldo!” Mom called out across the room.
Vee just rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “Yes, Mom…”
23
Remington
“Cock-a-doodle-doo, fucker.”
Ruger kicked the end of my bed and I woke with a start. Every single muscle in my body ached. Not from hard ranch work like I was used to, but from driving eighteen hours straight to get home to Wyoming right before the sun came up on a new day. Shit. Felt like there was a hammer pounding away in my skull and sand jammed in my eyelids.
He placed a cup of coffee on the nightstand and had a seat over in the chair in the corner of my old bedroom. He crossed one dirty boot over his knee and sat back to study me in silence. I tried to rub some life into my eyes and sat up to grab the coffee like a life preserver thrown to a drowning man.
The first sip nearly scorched my throat, but I kept going until the caffeine hit my system. The coffee tasted bitter, kind of like my heart right now. I’d had eighteen hours alone to go over every last detail of my relationship with Esme. More than once.
“You got about ten minutes before Mom comes marching up here and demands some answers. You’re welcome for the coffee to kick-start your brain before the interrogation.”
Ruger smiled smugly. I gave him a head nod, about the only thing I could manage at the moment, and checked the time. Not even ten in the morning, though that was practically the end of the day in ranching terms.
“You going to be alright?” Ruger tried again.
I set the empty coffee mug down and got out of bed, stretching my arms above my head. My low back screamed at me and I realized driving the entire way in one go probably wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had.
“Yeah. I’ll make it,” I replied, the words scraping my throat.
He nodded. “Good. But I suggest you put some goddamn pants on before Mom gets here. Nobody needs to see your junk.”
I looked down. “I got boxers on.” But I stepped into my jeans from yesterday anyway, because he was right. I needed to have my wits—and pants—about me to deal with Mom.
The door swung open, and we both jumped. Mom stood in the doorway like a thunderclap. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a wooden spoon in her hand, ready to beat my ass.
“You’re lucky I gave you time to sleep,” she said, stepping into the room and going to shut the door, but a heavy boot stopped her.
“Well, fuck,” I muttered, seeing Dad step into the room. I’d need to bring in some chairs if they all wanted to chat in my bedroom. “Want to invite Killam too?”
“Don’t be a smartass with me, young man,” Mom snapped, coming over to make my bed like I was still a little boy who needed help keeping his room tidy.
I gave her a kiss on the cheek as she bustled around me, which seemed to mollify her for the moment. She sat on the edge of the bed when she was done and pulled me down next to her, laying a hand on my shoulder.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
Dad grunted from the doorway where he leaned with his arms folded across his chest. I’d thought about this last night, right as I crossed the state line into Wyoming. I’d need to look my family in the eyes and tell them the truth. I’d told Esme to do it and she’d failed. I wouldn’t follow the same path.
“Mom, Dad. I don’t want to run the ranch.” I ripped the truth off like a Band-Aid. “I love this lifestyle, I really do. But it’s also not for me long term. I want to make an impact on the world in other ways. I’ve already started the paperwork for a nonprofit foundation, helping other boys like Killam.”
Dad didn’t say a word, his severe expression not even twitching at my honesty. Mom squeezed my shoulder.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
I nodded, hoping that she’d understand. “It really is. My heart is in it.”
