The thought should fill him with purpose, with the satisfaction of stepping into his role as the ranch’s future owner.
Instead, all he could think about was how Robert got to be the hero—the one with the knowledge Rose needed, the one she turned to with trust shining in her green eyes. While James would be out in the bitter wind, breaking ice and tending cattle, Robert would be here in the warm house, poring over legal documents with Rose hanging on his every word.
The injustice of it burned in his chest like coals.
He forced himself to focus on what mattered most. Rose’s freedom. The cattle’s survival. His own petty jealousies had no place in either equation.
“I’m going out to break the ice in the north pasture.” He turned to the door, leaving the press of thick silence behind. He didn’t let himself look back to see Robert’s reaction to the reminder of the task he’d been assigned. Maybe he had his nose so deep in the contract, he hadn’t even heard James.
As he closed the door behind him, the cold air hit his face, sharp and clean after the suffocating atmosphere inside. He stood on the porch a moment, breathing deeply, letting the wind carry away some of the bitter frustration building in his chest.
Rose. She was supposed to be his particular friend. They’d always had a special connection. Even when he first brought her home from Butte, there had been an awareness between the two of them. A tension she’d seemed to be fighting.
But now…how had Robert stepped in and stolen her attention completely? Sure, she was focused on the contract and how she could be free from that lecher, Vincent Dunhill. But they were all working to help her with that, James included.
Maybe he just needed to find a way to spend extra time with her. A way to remind her of what they’d always had.
Rose was the only woman he’d ever loved, and maybe if she finally allowed herself the chance, she would realize she loved him too.
He simply had to find ways to show her. To win her heart.
The thought crystallized in his mind as he strode to the barn, his boots crunching through the fresh snow. He’d been too passive, too willing to step back and let his brother take the lead simply because Robert had the legal knowledge Rose needed. But there were other ways to help her, other ways to prove his worth.
And more importantly, there were other ways to remind her of what they’d once meant to each other.
The barn felt warm after the bitter wind outside, the scents of hay and horses steadying him. He grabbed the ax from its pegs, hefting its familiar weight in his hands. The tool felt solid, honest—unlike the tangled mess of emotions churning in his chest.
As he headed back to his horse, who stood waiting patiently, a plan began forming in his mind. If he took Rose to some of the places they’d loved as kids, she would remember their bond. They could even create new memories in those familiar spots.
Where had they spent most of their time in the winters?
The old swimming hole. They’d devoted countless winter afternoons there when the creek froze solid enough to skate on. Rose had been fearless on the ice, laughing as she glided across the frozen surface while he’d shown off, attempting jumps and spins that usually ended with him flat on his back. She’d always helped him up, her green eyes bright, her mittened hands surprisingly strong as she pulled him to his feet.
The memory warmed something in his chest that had nothing to do with the bitter wind. They still had a box full of skates of all sizes. Surely he could make some of them work.
Yes, that would be perfect. Once this storm passed and the ice was safe, he could take her skating again. Show her that he remembered everything about their friendship, that he valued those memories as much as she did.
And the cave they’d discovered halfway up the ridge behind the house—not really a cave, just a deep depression in the rock face, but it had felt like their own secret kingdom when they were children. They’d spent hours there on winter afternoons, telling stories and sharing the cookies Mrs. Wang had smuggled to them.
His grip tightened on the ax handle as he swung into the saddle. He would take Rose to those places. Remind her of who they’d been together before the world had gotten so complicated, before Vincent Dunhill stole her childhood and turned her into this wary, guarded woman who pulled back when anyone drew near.
He’d bring her back to herself. Back to him.
CHAPTER 14
Rose glanced over as the kitchen door opened and Thomas entered the room. But it was his expression that made her pause.
He met her gaze with no hint of the easy confidence he’d shown an hour ago when he told his tale of retrieving the contract.
Instead, his jaw was set in a hard line, and something flicked in his eyes that made her stomach drop.
“What’s wrong?”
He glanced behind him, as though making sure they were alone, then stepped closer. “There was something else in Vincent’s office. Something I didn’t mention in front of the others.”
The warmth from the kitchen stove seemed to leach away, leaving her skin cold despite the heat radiating from the cast iron. She set down the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir the stew, her fingers too unsteady to hold it properly. “What kind of something?”
He reached into his coat again, producing another folded paper. “It was in the same file as your contract.”
