The wisest course of action for me was to do exactly what I’d said. She was only here for a week. I just needed to find ways of avoiding her until she left. “What makes you so sure of that?”
“Aaron meant something to you.” She spoke slowly, each word heavy with meaning. “You won’t turn away his sister. He wouldn’t want that.”
My throat caught. She was right. Aaron would want me to talk to her. The two had always been close. They lost their parents soon after they turned eighteen, and if he hadn’t already joined the military, he would have stayed home with her. They were all the other one had.
Heat pricked the back of my eyes. I hadn’t allowed myself to consider that she was completely alone in the world. How lonely she must be. Sharing stories about Aaron would be difficult for me, but I at least owed her that. She wouldn’t get the answersshe desperately wanted, but it might be enough to provide her solace.
“I’ll saddle Ginger for you.”
She tried to hide her triumphant smile but failed. “Thank you.”
Soon we were mounted and making our way across the pasture. I kept an eye on her form until I was confident in her riding, then turned my attention to the path ahead. “Ready to go a little faster?”
“So, I passed the test?” she teased, her low laugh causing my bear’s ears to prick forward and sending shivers through me.
For a second, I let myself imagine this was my future. But only for a second. “When did you learn to ride? Aaron said he’d never been on the back of a horse.”
She maneuvered Ginger next to me. “With my parents gone and Aaron away on deployments, I had nowhere to go during college breaks. A friend invited me to stay with her family on their farm, and they had a few horses.”
“I’m sorry about your parents. It must have been hard when Aaron left after their accident.”
“It was.” She was quiet for a moment. “I went from the perfect family to all alone, except for his emails. Then when he died, I… well, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through.”
“I was lucky to have all my brothers by my side when we lost our parents. I can’t imagine going through a loss like that alone.” I cleared my throat, blocking the words that threatened to pour out of me, telling her she’d never be alone again. That she was my mate, and I’d always be here for her.
We rode in silence for a few minutes. The sun was hot overhead, but a cool breeze blew across the pasture. The rolling hills and the sounds of the surrounding ranch—the distant lowing of a cow, wind rustling the grass—calmed me, the tension in my muscles melting away. I hadn’t realized how tight I’d been.
“I need to ride more often. I’d forgotten how much I love it out here.”
“It’s beautiful. And something about the solitude is soothing.” She slid her gaze toward me. “I hate to break that. But I’d like to hear more about Aaron, if you’d be willing.”
I swung off Storm to open the fence between the pastures, using the time to steel myself against the guilt that rose when I thought about Aaron. If I gave her nothing else, at least I could give her this. “Your brother was the bravest man I ever met. I always knew he’d have my back and trusted him with my life.”
After passing through the gate and closing it, I mounted my horse and aimed toward the west side of the pasture. “He was also funny and had the entire unit laughing during downtimes. We could always count on him to lighten the mood after a tough mission. But he had a serious side too. He and I had a lot of deep conversations late into the night.”
I cut my gaze to her. “He talked about you all the time. He carried a picture of you with him always. That thing was almost ripped down the center, he opened it so many times.”
“You knew who I was when I got here.” She stated it as a fact, not a question.
“Yes.” I swallowed thickly. “It’s hard to talk about him. We bonded, and I saw him as more than just a friend. He was like a brother to me.”
Brooke
Grief filled his voice, telling me this was the most honest he’d been with me. It had my own grief welling up, threatening to overwhelm. I had the urge to both comfort him and to findcomfort with him. Maybe we could both find healing during my stay here.
Before I found the words to express what was running through me, he brought his horse to a stop next to a water trough. He swung down and dropped the reins. “You can dismount if you’d like. I’m not sure how long this will take.”
I got down, my legs protesting slightly. It had been a while since I’d ridden, and my muscles were warning me they weren’t happy. “Don’t you need to tie the horses to something?”
Mason shot me a grin. “No. They won’t go anywhere.”
I shrugged and let the reins drop. “I certainly hope not. It would be a long walk back if they did.”
He bent over the piece of equipment. I walked to his side, immediately noticing the trough was empty. “Shouldn’t there be water in there?”
“There should. Austin noticed it when he was riding by. He didn’t have time to check it out, so told me it needed fixing.” He frowned as he examined it. His expression darkened, and he let out a long, low growl.
“What’s wrong?” I peered over his shoulder, and the source of his anger was obvious. A small box was clipped over the rim with a hose running to it. Only the box was smashed to pieces, as if someone had taken their rage out on it. “Your saboteur has struck again.”
