Page 31 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

“The doors are never locked around here.” Graham sighed. “At least, they weren’t before you put your foot down with Grandfather. I’m not sure I ever thanked you properly for that.”

It had been a few weeks since Tate’s return from Chicago. Their grandsire had confirmed Tate as the main decision maker for Sweet River Ranch. Graham could only be grateful it wasn’t him… as well as grateful that Tate had refused to allow more than one evening meeting per week going forward. Plus, he’d insisted on actual weekends off.

“That pace wasn’t sustainable.” Tate studied Graham. “I’m not sure why our grandmother put up with it, but it wrecked my parents’ marriage, and Wally and Ashley weren’t doing so great, either.”

“I think my parents only handle it because they each do their own thing most of the time, anyway. It suits them to remain together and show a united front.”

“A power couple.”

Graham sighed. “Something like that. I have to say, I admire your mom for making a stand. She still manages to work for Sullivan and have an actual life of her own. Has she been seeing anyone?”

Tate shook his head. “Not that I know of. I spent months with her in Gilead over the winter, so I’m pretty sure I’d know.”

“It’s complicated being a Sullivan.”

“Tell me.”

Were Graham and his cousin actually becoming friends through this project of Grandfather’s? Maybe it was a good thing.

Graham was going to miss Tate when he began working out of the Chicago office again. Maybe Tate had the right idea — he and Stephanie were drawing up plans to build a house on the ranch. Graham could, too.

Mountain lions. Grizzly bears. Rattlesnakes. He hadn’t seen a single one of any of those creatures, and he’d die happy if he never did. Chicago was blessedly free of any and all.

Humans committing crimes against humans, on the other hand, was a much greater problem back home than here. As were noise and pollution.

But there were so many good things about urban life. He’d spent his entire life — until April of this year — living within city limits. It was home in a way his side of a staff duplex never could be.

Tate was putting down roots here. Making a home for Stephanie and Jamie.

That wasn’t for Graham. He had no desire to be a rancher or even a ruralist. Peace and quiet were nice, though. Books and movies could be his companions anywhere he hung his hat.

What about Cadence? Did she miss the city? Would she scurry back to Chicago in September and leave Sweet River Ranch behind without a backward glance? She probably would.

She’d leave him behind even if he returned to Chicago himself, which he would, of course. Someone like her wouldn’t be satisfied with a guy like him for the long-term. She didn’t have as many options here, plus there was the whole rescue thing.

He’d lose her to the fast-paced life, sooner or later.

She might not see it yet, but she would. He needed to be watchful.

Chapter Nine

We’ve landed in this godforsaken airport with another hour to get to this ranch on the backside of beyond. And I don’t even want to talk about what they consider a suitable rental car in Montana.

Cadence bit her lip at her mother’s text. It wasn’t like she’d invited her parents to visit Sweet River. Although, she should have. She should be grateful they cared enough to check up on her. She’d treated them abominably.

No, Paul Bradley had treated them all that way. It hadn’t been her. All she’d done was accept his rejection and leave town. Possibly driving for two days might seem excessive to her parents, but that’s where the refuge Graham offered had been. If it had been in a different direction, a different distance, that’s where she would have gone.

But… Graham Sullivan.

What an enigma. They’d had a moment last week on the trail ride where they’d both seemed to acknowledge feelings. At least, that’s what she’d done, and what she thought he’d said in return at the time.

But they’d gone back to awkward and possibly to avoidance, if Graham’s increased absence from the office was any indication. He always seemed to be busy… or elsewhere.

Had she misheard his words? No, he’d clearly said he was making a move. Possibly the guy played chess and contemplated upcoming moves for hours or days at a time.

Possibly he’d changed his mind. Should she ask? Because it would be nice to know exactly where she stood with Graham before her parents arrived. She’d been so hopeful…

To ask him, she’d have to find him.

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