“Jack and I were talking”—he cast a glance at Jack—“and we were hoping you might be able to teach us how to throw a rope before Jack has to leave tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, I’d love to. When do you have to go?”
Jack answered, “We have to leave around eleven.”
I took a deep breath, marveling at the way I could smell her on me, but hoping no one else could. “Let’s do first thing tomorrow then. Maybe nine o’clock?”
We chatted for a few more minutes and every second required an excruciating amount of effort on my part. When suddenly, I heard my son call out. “Dad! Dad!”
I turned to find Cade rushing up to me, his forehead connecting with my ribs. I wrapped an arm around his back. “Hey! You okay?”
Thankfully, Jack and Peter took Cade’s arrival as a cue and slinked off to find their wives.
Cade’s entire body trembled beneath my arm. “I didn’t—know where you were.”
I bent down, lowering my voice. “Hey, hey. Everything is fine. I’m right here.”
“Where—” His voice cracked. “Where were you?”
“Buddy, I was just in the barn talking with someone.”
He squeezed me so hard, I grunted.
“Cade.” Guilt unfurled in my chest, and I stooped to pull him into a hug. “I’m sorry for not communicating. You were hanging with Izzy and Nora and I didn’t think to tell you. I had every intention of coming right back, then just got…hung up.”
His arms circled me, holding me tight. “It’s alright.”
“I’m not going anywhere though, okay?”
“Okay.”
“You wanna help me break down tables?”
He nodded, abruptly pushing away.
For the next hour and a half, we cleaned up, folded tables, and putaway decorations. But my mind was still elsewhere. I scanned the distant parts of the ranch over and over. Waiting for Hollie to come out of the shadows. But she never did.
Every passing minute made me sicker with dread.
When I retired to my cabin, her own cabin windows were dark.
And I had a sinking suspicion I would never see her again.
FIFTEEN
Jesse
Present Day - June
Asmoke alarm went off in the kitchen.
I spat a curse and jerked the cast iron off the burner. “Cade!” I called him to action but he was already standing beneath the dramatic piece of junk, waving a pot holder at it. This was the fourth time. To think I had to cook again for the guests two hours from now infuriated me.
Man, I was not cut out for this.
But everyone at Meadowbrook—cowboys and guests alike—had to eat and I was the only person, save Bea, who could confidently use a frying pan. Tag did okay, but last time he made breakfast solo, we got extra calcium via egg shells and two bad reviews on the bnb website.
Therefore, the one with the most skill was nominated.
