Page 50 of Rogue Cowboy
“I don’t talk about it.I don’t think about them—much,” he qualified.“I think I tried to forget.Suppressed it.So, it didn’t hurt anymore, but when you placed that piece of chocolate in my mouth, I saw me as a little kid—maybe three in one of those booster seats at a dessert type of restaurant, and Carli—she was the oldest, she was dangling a spoon of vanilla ice cream and chocolate and caramel above my mouth.
“I don’t remember them much.Habit of shoving it all back into the dark.My grandparents raised me.They must have been hurting just as much as I was, but they didn’t let me see it, and I didn’t let them see my loss.I pretended I was whole when I wasn’t.”
She pressed sweet kisses along his jawline.“I know what that’s like,” she affirmed.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
“The main house at the Jameson Ranch has family pictures in the great room and the hallway and lining the stairway and halls leading to the bedrooms.I trained myself to never look at them.I felt like they’d abandoned me.I was mad.So angry.”
For so long.
He hadn’t really analyzed his little-boy response.
“I’d wanted to go on the stock-buying trip with them.But they said I was too young.My brother, Carson, was four years older, and he lorded it over me.My parents said another year, but…”
Riley still clung to him, and he felt like something in his body started to meld back together.
“I could have lost you,” she breathed out.“I could have lost you before I was even born.”
He didn’t know how long they sat there, holding each other.Finally Riley loosened her hold and stood up, pulling him with her.
“Come inside,” she invited.“I don’t want either of us to be alone tonight.”
When I’m too restless to sleep, I’ve started reading poetry by Mary Oliver.
Cole couldn’t remember reading a poem in his life, but he must have in high school at some point.He was happy Riley had reached out.He didn’t feel as stalkerish now that she’d started texting him more since.Previously she’d seemed on the brink of ghosting him—when she’d told him not to come to Montana to meet her family.
Do you have a favorite poem?
I love so many of them.They have me looking at Copper Mountain and trees and the Yellowstone River more intently.I thought if I read poetry I’d start thinking in song lyrics again.
Chapter Ten
“You sure youwant to do this?”Riley asked, probably for the tenth time Saturday morning.
She felt jittery—and not just from the second large Americano she’d downed, hoping to give herself a boost to sail through the day as if she’d had a full night of sleep instead of lying awake staring at the tiny glowing stars she’d stuck on the ceiling above.She couldn’t stop thinking about the little boy he’d been.How alone.She had her family, and yet he’d lost both of his siblings and his parents.She couldn’t even imagine her life without her mom and dad supporting her, guiding her, teaching her.And her brothers had teased her but had always loved her and watched out for her.
Cole had been alone—well not alone.He had a large extended family.Still.
“No place I’d rather be.”
Riley looked around the livestock barn that smelled of animal, dirt, sawdust and manure even though everyone kept the stalls clean.
“Huh.”She didn’t take that as gospel.She loved horses and the rodeo but there were plenty of other places she wouldn’t mind being.
“And last night should permanently put to bed any doubt you have about my intentions.”
“But we didn’t…” she burst out, both embarrassed and frustrated because sometime during the night, she had rolled into him, wrapped herself around him and had started kissing him dreamily.Cole had sweetly returned her kiss then told her to go back to sleep.
Hardly raging lust.
“We will when you are ready and will enjoy it—not just want to get it over with.”
Oh.My.God.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, beyond mortified.She was sending mixed signals.He deserved better.Her best.She was no longer nineteen.She should be better at this by now.
“You keep saying that.”
