The memory still burns: Sophia's voice, cold and calculating."Colt's sweet, but he's just the bonus. Blackwell's the real prize. Eight thousand acres and enough money to set me up for life. Few more months playing the loving girlfriend, and I'll have him wrapped around my finger."
The way Colt's face had crumbled when I ended it. No explanation, no gentleness. Just brutal efficiency. "This isn't working. We're done."
Better he hate me than know the truth.
Better he think I was heartless than realize the woman he loved saw him as nothing more than a stepping stone to my bank account.
But was it better? Two years later, what do I have to show for my noble sacrifice?
A best friend who crosses the street to avoid me.
A reputation as the coldest bastard in three counties.
And now a dying calf because I can't swallow my pride long enough to ask for help.
The phone screen dims. I wake it back up, stare at that saved number.Brother.
I shouldn't let myself think it. Shouldn't want it. But the thought sinks its claws deep anyway.
Lucy between us.
Not like before. Not manipulation and hidden agendas, but something real. Lucy with her gentle hands and fierce heart, who looks at broken things and sees something worth saving. Who could maybe see past our damage to what we used to be.
I picture her hands soft on Colt's face, drawing out one of his rare genuine smiles. The ones he used to give freely before I destroyed his ability to trust. See myself teaching her to ride, her body warm against mine as I show her how to hold the reins, trusting me not to let her fall.
Imagine Colt and me working together again, moving with the ease of decades-old friendship.
Her as our center, our peace.
Not possession but partnership. Not jealousy but healing.
Loving her the way she deserves, completely, without reservation, without the poison of suspicion that destroyed us before.
The fantasy hits me like a physical blow. Redemption wrapped in honey-colored skin and bright laughter. Lucy's voice echoing through the ranch house. Colt and me sharing morning coffee, comfortable in our silence again. Her between us at night, safe and cherished and…
Darcy's breathing stops.
One second. Two. Three.
Then she gasps, pulls in air with a horrible wheeze. But she's fading fast. Actually dying while I sit here dreaming about impossible things, paralyzed by pride that's about to cost another innocent life.
My thumb moves without conscious thought. Finds Colt's number. Hovers over the call button as my heart hammers against my ribs.
Two years of silence.
Two years of missing my best friend like a severed limb.
Darcy makes a small, pained sound. Trusting me to save her.
I hit call.
13
Colt
The heifer's scream rips through the pre-dawn quiet like a chainsaw through silk. I'm buried elbow-deep in blood and birth fluid, muscles screaming as I fight to turn this backwards calf before we lose them both.
The Hendersons' barn reeks of sweat, fear, and the copper tang of blood. Same cocktail every calving season, but it never stops gut-punching me when they're in trouble.
