“So what happens now?” I asked quietly. “We pretend this never happened? Go back to barely speaking to each other?”
Cole wiped his face with the back of his hand. “We finish this cattle drive. We run the ranch together like the will says. We’re civil. Professional.”
“And then what? When the year’s up, I just leave again?”
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t answer. The silence between us said more than words ever could.
“That’s not fair, Cole,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Not to either of us.”
“Life isn’t fair,” he replied, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable. “If it was, your mom would still be alive. My dad would still be here. And we wouldn’t be...” He trailed off, unable to finish.
“Wouldn’t be what? Attracted to each other?” I challenged. “Because that’s what this is, Cole. That’s what it’s always been, hasn’t it? Even before I left?”
He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. “It doesn’t matter what it is. It can’t happen again.”
I wanted to argue, to make him see how ridiculous this was. We were two consenting adults who wanted each other. But the defeated slump of his shoulders, the way his hands trembled as he zipped up his sleeping bag… it stopped the words in my throat.
“Fine,” I said finally, crawling to my own sleeping bag. “We’ll do it your way. We always fucking do.”
Cole looked up sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m done putting up with your shit, Cole. I’m tired of you sacrificing everythingyouwant out of life and then makingmefeel bad about it.” I glanced over my shoulder one last time. “So, the next time you feel like sharing your feelings with me, fucking don’t. I don’t care anymore.”
Chapter 15
Cole
Driving the cattle down from the mountain took nearly two days thanks to the snow drifts. It was cold, tedious work that had everyone on their last nerve by the time we finally arrived back at the main pasture. With the cattle safely contained for the winter, I sent the other ranch hands off to put the horses away and take the rest of the night off. I’d see to evening chores myself.
Jesse, on the other hand, didn’t leave with the rest of the ranch hands. To my dismay and obvious irritation, he’d stayed close by me, helping me with the horses and falling in step as I started evening chores. I knew he wanted to be inside, probably in a hot bath after everything we’d been through. But he’d grown tougher in the past couple of months. He was almost starting to act like a rancher, which was poor timing for me because I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Not after what happened between us.
“I’ve got this,” I said to him as we headed out to top off the troughs at the edge of the pasture. “You can go inside.”
“No,” he said calmly. There was no sass, no anger, and no room for argument. “We have chores to do.”
His stubbornness was starting to get under my skin. I glared at him, hoping he’d take the hint and leave, but he just stared back at me with those determined hazel eyes.
“Look,” I said, my voice gruff with frustration, “you’ve been in the saddle for two days straight. You’re probably sore as hell. Just go inside.”
Jesse shook his head, grabbing a bucket and falling into step beside me. “I’m fine. Besides, you heard Mr. Whitaker last time. We need to actually work together.”
I clenched my jaw so tight I thought my teeth might crack. Working together was the last thing I wanted right now. Every time I looked at Jesse, all I could think about was what had happened in that tent. The way his skin felt against mine. The sounds he made when I was inside him. The shame that followed.
“We can work together tomorrow,” I muttered, quickening my pace. “The freezer guys are coming to finish the installation. There’s also the cattle need to be rounded up for processing.”
“And we’ll do that too,” Jesse replied, matching my stride. “But right now, we’re doing chores.”
I stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “Why are you being so goddamn stubborn about this?”
“Because you’re avoiding me again,” he said simply. No anger, no accusation, just stating a fact. “And I’m not going to let you. Not anymore.”
The calm determination in his voice made something twist in my chest. I’d expected him to be angry after how I’d treated him on the mountain. Expected him to yell or throw things or give me the silent treatment. This quiet persistence was somehow worse.
“There’s nothing to avoid,” I lied, resuming my walk toward the troughs. “I just thought you’d want a break.”
“Bullshit,” Jesse said, still keeping pace with me. “You’ve been practically running away from me since the blizzard. You won’t even look at me.”
I didn’t respond, focusing instead on the task at hand as we reached the first water trough. The surface was already starting to freeze over. I broke the thin layer of ice with my gloved hand before refilling it from the bucket.
