But Bailey, as much as I loved her, had become jaded as hell since she and Chase ended things. I hadn’t understood it. I mean, I understood that she was upset and I understood why. There was so much more to the whole thing with Bailey and Chase that no one else knew—that only I knew. Losing Chase hadn’t just been losing Chase.
What Austin and I had wasn’t comparable to the years Bailey and Chase spent together, and the way we’d ended things were amicable in ways Chase made sure things weren’t when he told Bailey he’d cheated, but goddammit if I didn’t hate the world and damn-near everyone in it.
I hadn’t reached out to Austin since she left. It was pretty clear that she didn’t want to hear from me or she’d have reached out first. Two days after she left, I caved and asked Kenny if she’d at least heard that Austin was safe. She smiled sympathetically and I fucking hated it so much, I’d grumbled out a nevermind and then left.
I figured the next time I’d see her would be through thescreen when she went live again—the same way all of this started, the way I should’ve made it stay. I guess with a hundred grand in the bank, she didn’t need to cam anymore, because I hadn’t gotten any notifications that she’d gone live.
Just because it’s on my mind, I pull out my phone and let my fingers take me to the cam site, ignoring the way my mind protests against it. I type in my email address and password, clearing my throat to drown out the way her voice echoes in my head, a memory of the way she’d made fun of me for not letting my phone remember the sign-in info one night in my bed.
I type her screen name in the search bar instead of clicking on her name in my subscriptions list—the list of one person. But when I click on her name, instead of seeing her stats like usual, I see a large red pop-up.
MUSTACHEDRANCHER AND THEIR KNOWN IP ADDRESSES HAVE BEEN BANNED
It takes several seconds of staring at it before it makes sense and then several more before my heart catches up to what my brain’s known for awhile.
Austin’s done with me.
FIFTY-THREE
MADDOX
When June starts,I finally start to feel like I’ve got my feet under me again. I go to town for groceries and grunt through people’s questions, spend a bit more time working to avoid Mama’s nitpicking, and pawn the bar off on Jamie for now. He hires someone to run it and says they’re doing a decent job, but I haven’t stepped foot in the place.
Like he has some sort of radar that tells him when I get something off my plate and have a spare spot for some extra bullshit, Colt shows up on my doorstep. I’ve barely cracked it open to ask him why he’s here when he’s pushing his way inside.
I’m immediately swallowing my frustration when my eyes rake over him in the light of my living room. He’s not wearing one of his quirky trucker hats, probably because he keeps gripping his hair like he’s going to pull it out, and he’s got two or three days’ worth of stubble on his cheeks. It’s paired with pale skin, glassy eyes and darkness beneath them, like he’s still having trouble sleeping.
“Colt, what’s the matter?” I ask him, nervous. My cabin’s the last place in the world Colton would choose to come when he’s on the edge of what appears to be a breakdown. A million thingsrun through my mind, but the dopey grin on his face derails them.
“I’m gonna be a dad, Maddie.”
I’m shocked silent. My mind whirls as the next eighteen years of Colt’s life play out before me.
“Maddie?” he asks quietly, and it hits me that he hasn’t called me that in years. It pulls my attention back to his face. The same terrified joy as before greets me.
I clear my throat, trying to figure out what question to ask first. “Does Mama know?”
“No,” he says quickly, grin widening. “I’ll tell her next, I just… Can I come home?”
“What?” His face falls a bit and I feel like shit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean… Of course you can come home, Colt. I just don’t understand why you’re askingme.”
“Oh, sorry, I got ahead of myself,” Colt says, raking a hand over his face. It doesn’t wipe away the smile. I gesture to the couch and he takes a seat. “I meant to ask if I could come home to stay. To work. Permanently.”
“To work? What about the rodeo?”
Colt nods, smile dipping as he looks down at his callused and rope-burned hands. His first love is the rodeo and it always has been. He waited all year for us to get to go when we were kids, counting down the days. You practically had to drag him away.
“Figure a kid needs their daddy to have a less risky job, don’t you?”
The breath leaves my lungs in a quiet huff and I plop down beside him on the couch. My hand finds the back of his neck easily and even though his head’s still dipped, I see his lips curve again. Damn kid seems fucking stoked. He looks up at me, eyes glassy again, and I know it’s not because he’s leaving the rodeo behind—though I figure that’ll hit him later.
“Yeah?”
He nods again. “Yeah, Maddie,” he says, voice breaking.
As much animosity as Colton and I have had between us the past several years, I can’t take one of my siblings crying, even if it’s out of happiness. I use my grip on his neck to pull him in for a hug, shoving his head against my shoulder and feeling his shake.
“When’s she due?” I ask him and then a few more important questions occur to me. “Is she your girl or was it a one-time thing? Where’s she living?”
