I can’t get enoughof the fresh air and sunshine. Even though it’s cold and the wind is cutting through my jacket and sweater, there’s something so raw and beautiful about being out in the open like this.
Scratchy shrubs and patches of grass extend in all directions, buildings and cars small in the distance. There’re no overly manicured lawns or paved driveways. Just life existing the way it should.
I can see why Bronco loves it. It’s so far removed from the mansion and country clubs I’m used to;I may never want to leave.
“Hand me those pliers?” Bronco points to the tool he needs. He isn’t exasperated at all that I don’t know one from the next.
I hand it to him, marveling a little. It feels like all I’ve done since I met him. He’s confident, decisive, and doesn’t think twice about using his hands.
We’re out at the western edge of his property where the fence and camera went down. Bronco was concerned about my safety but didn’t want to leave me behind to make the repairs. So I asked if I could keep him company.
The smile he gave me warmed me all the way to my toes.
I dressed as fast as I could, slipped the locket on, and grabbed my boots.
He loaded up the tools and drove us across almost forty acres of beautiful land.
I keep expecting him to scoff or be annoyed with me when I ask questions or linger a little too long looking at the landscape. He hasn’t. Not once. Neither Aiden nor my father have that kind of patience. Especially with me.
Bronco tugs at the wire holding the camera in place against the tree trunk. He nods, tucks the pliers in his back pocket, and puts his hands on his hips, studying the fence. The black cowboy hat shields his eyes from the winter sun, and I can’t look away.
There’s a teasing glint in his eyes when he asks, “Got any tips for resetting a fence post?”
“My tutors never covered that.”
“Pity. Could have been a whole new career for you.”
“Only if you were the teacher.” My cheeks heat the second the words are out. I shouldn’t compliment a man I’m not engaged to, but being this close to Bronco, with his broad shoulders, kind eyes, and steady presence... I can’t help myself.
His gaze skates over me and his eyes heat. “Yeah? Because of my charming personality?”
My lips twitch, a smile trying to break free. It’s only the strain of not knowing where Aiden is right now, and what he and my father have planned that holds it back. AlthoughI’ve never been one for the kind of carefree life other people seem to have.
Structure. Discipline. Impeccable manners. The three pillars of good behavior according to my mother. And the only acceptable traits a daughter of good breeding should have in order to do her duty for the family.
I wonder what sort of discipline andmanners my mother would have insisted on if she’d been kidnapped by herfiancé.She probably would have dragged him down the aisle first.
“Tutors, huh? You didn’t attend a regular school?” Bronco cuts the wires off the toppled fence post, binds them and tosses them in the back of the utility vehicle we came in.
“My parents preferred something more... curated for my sister and me.” Something more attuned to how they believed young women should be raised. The same way my mother was in a traditional finishing school.
“You mentioned your sister before. Is she older or younger?” He pulls an oddly shaped tool with two handles out of the back and uses it to dig a new hole.
“Older by five years. She’s already married, so she knows...” I cross my arms over my waist, suddenly aware of how small I must sound. “She was going to try to find a way to help me get away from Aiden.”
He scowls at the hole. “You mean she didn’t choose her husband either.”
“No.”
“Jesus Christ. Some family.” He mutters something I don’t quite catch, then attacks the hole like it’s insulted him “And I thought my brothers were pains in the asses.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
He slows and his gaze goes distant. “Two, though I almost lost one when we were kids. I’m the oldest. Ford is three years younger, and Dallas is five.”
I can’t imagine life without my sister. “What happened when you were kids?” I shouldn’t pry. It’s uncouth. But I find myself edging closer as he talks, eager for every word.
Bronco looks at me then, and the pain in his eyes is unmistakable. “Dallas decided to go ice skating at the pond when he was eleven. I was sixteen and in charge of him. He refused to listen when I said the pond was beginning to thaw.” He stabs atthe ground again, removing a large chunk of earth. “I was part way back to the house to tell our parents when I heard the crack. He fell in.” Another chunk of earth falls away. “I’ve never run so fast. When I pulled him out, his lips were blue, but he smiled at me like I was his hero.”
