I wasn’t so sure.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and clenched his finely stubbled jaw. “Are you ready?”
“Um, sure.” I left the sandwiches behind.
This wasn’t the normal, confident Gideon. The only thing I’d seen shake him was the talk about babies. He’d been around a ton of kids last night. Was there a link?
I loaded into the car. When he pulled out of the garage, I dug my sunglasses out. The direction he went was toward his dad’s place.
I never tired of this drive. The landside might be different shades of brown instead of green, but with the blue sky and wispy white clouds, it was still gorgeous. The mountains in the background were already snow-tipped, but the trees remained a dark green to add a pop of color.
His family’s land was a lot like the portion Daddy had gifted me. I hadn’t shown Gideon yet, and I wasn’t going to bring it up today. The idea of taking him out there seemed like rubbing salt in his emotional wounds.
I wished my brothers would change their minds, but Hank didn’t seem like he would.
We passed the turn for the house. I craned my head to look back, but I didn’t ask where we were going. We were still on James property.
He slowed, eventually turning off the road onto a little grass patch by a fence. The tire tracks continued on the other side, following the adjacent fence line over a rolling hill.
“I’ll get the gate.” I had my hand on the door handle when he curled his fingers around my forearm.
“No. I got it.”
I had never been the lone passenger and sat out opening the gate. He got out and sauntered to the chainholding the gate shut. His big body bent over, working on loosening the metal hooks. He looked like he belonged. A born-and-raised country boy, which he was. Did he realize how easily he slipped back into the role he’d been raised doing?
When he climbed back in, the smell of cold sunshine followed him.
“We’re going to get snow soon,” I murmured, more to make any sort of conversation.
“Yeah. It’s November now.” The overtones were ominous.
It’s November now.
Kind of likeGame of Thronesand their winter tagline. November was here. Bad things were coming.
He left the gate open since there were no cattle in the pastures. We bumped over the hill. Up ahead, a small drop-off loomed. The tracks veered to the left, but Gideon pulled up parallel to the small crevice in the land.
A creek had slowly carved its way through this shallow draw to drain into what would likely be a pond at the lowest point until the countryside swooped back up. The pond would probably be as dry as the creek bed. We hadn’t had a lot of rain this fall, but it’d be a good pasture to turn the cattle out in for the early summer. Winter runoff would fill the pond. A nature-made water source.
My brothers could expand Bailey Beef and utilize the pastures that weren’t farmland. If Gideon got the property, would he do the same? Would he leave all the decisions up to a faceless ranch manager while he never stepped foot on Percival for another twenty-five years?
I was about to tell him it was really pretty out herewhen he got out of the car. The hill we’d crested was behind us and blocked the road. It looked like there was no civilization for miles, and truthfully, there wasn’t much. Another ranch bordered the field on the other side of this one, and if Gideon could go straight through, he’d reach his dad’s house, but I doubted the path would handle a vehicle.
I climbed out. “Did you used to ride horses to get out here? Or four-wheelers?”
His back was to me as he looked over the crevice. He didn’t reply.
I tucked the hurt away as I came to a stop next to him. My soft gasp carried away on the wind. The other side dropped lower than where we were standing, and on the edge was a neat little white cross. A bouquet of dried flowers shook in the breeze.
Jenni James had died when she’d rolled her snowmobile.
I put my fingers to my mouth. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “Oh, Gideon. I’m so sorry.”
He propped his hands on his hips and aimed his gaze at his boots. “She died in November.”
Would he shrug me off if I tried to hug him? He vibrated withleave me aloneenergy.
I gave in. If he pushed me away, so be it, but he shouldn’t be on an emotional island right now. He likely hadn’t had many shoulders to cry on when he was younger. I wound my arms through his and around his waist. It was like embracing a wooden pole. A breath later, he wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t have to look up to know his gaze was stuck on that white cross.
