chores to find his mother and sister screaming in the kitchen, or slamming their respective bedroom doors. Claire was wild, used to getting her own way, with just as big a desire as his mother to be the center of attention.
Ethan stiffened. Was that true? Did his mother want attention?
He thought back to the last few years of her life. He hadn’t paid much attention to the clothing, jewelry and home decorating which seemed the foundation of his mother’s daily rounds. He was too busy working for his Dad, going to school and competing in the local rodeos when he could. He was saving money for a car, and looking forward to the day he graduated and put school behind him for good. No university for him, thank you very much. He’d leave that nightmare to Claire.
Although, in her younger years Claire had no more desire than he did to attend college. She was the best female rider this side of…well…anywhere. A natural on a horse and completely fearless. No one could touch her – not even Jamie when she was really on fire. She’d spent every spare minute with the horses, in the training corrals or out on the range riding for hours, coming home far after dinner time, sometimes far after dark. The fights between Claire and their parents got so bad that Ethan learned to pack himself enough food he could go straight to school from his chores in his morning and straight back to his chores after school without ever setting foot in the war zone of the Cruz kitchen. He spent his afternoons working any job his father set him, but whenever he could get away, he’d make his way to this pen and watch Mack MacKenzie work with the horses.
Mack had lived and worked on the ranch since Ethan was ten and felt like one of the family. He was a cowboy through and through, with a swagger to his step, a joke at the ready, and a laugh that boomed out over the yard and made everyone in earshot turn to look. He seemed larger than life – a heck of a lot more fun than his quiet father, who only opened his mouth to issue orders, or so it seemed to him at the time.
His mother would come out of the Big House sometimes to bring him a glass of lemonade, and always brought one for Mack, too. He knew she did it for an excuse to step outside and get away from the cooking and cleaning that took up her days whenever she was home. He didn’t blame her – how any woman could stand inside work when the sun was blazing away in the wide Montana sky he never could fathom. He figured her frequent trips abroad were an antidote to the boredom of being a rancher’s wife.
Claire spent plenty of time at this corral, too, of course. Mack actually let her into the pen when he was working with new horses. For someone who spent half her day screaming, she had a way about her when animals were present.
Ethan smiled at the memory, then frowned as he turned to look at the Big House and saw Autumn striding purposefully up the walk to the front door. With her damn camera in her hand.
What the hell?
Jamie turned, too. “Hey Ethan. How’s it going with your new bride? Surprised to see you haven’t sent her packing yet.” He cocked his head as he watched her turn the handle on the front door to the Big House and hesitate, as if surprised to find it unlocked. She stepped inside.
Why hadn’t he sent her packing? Because he thought she was different than all the other women in his life? Because he thought maybe she might have more sense, or less avarice, or the ability to string a couple of sentences together in a row without lying? Had he lost her because of the ranch’s debts, or because he hadn’t told her about them sooner?
“I gotta go,” he said.
“Hey, take it easy on her,” Jamie said, and Ethan looked back at the wiry man who’d taken Mack’s job when the other man left the ranch. “She’s probably just curious, that’s all. She only knows as much of your history as you’ve told her.”
“What the hell do you care?”
Jamie shook his head and
Ethan stiffened. Was that true? Did his mother want attention?
He thought back to the last few years of her life. He hadn’t paid much attention to the clothing, jewelry and home decorating which seemed the foundation of his mother’s daily rounds. He was too busy working for his Dad, going to school and competing in the local rodeos when he could. He was saving money for a car, and looking forward to the day he graduated and put school behind him for good. No university for him, thank you very much. He’d leave that nightmare to Claire.
Although, in her younger years Claire had no more desire than he did to attend college. She was the best female rider this side of…well…anywhere. A natural on a horse and completely fearless. No one could touch her – not even Jamie when she was really on fire. She’d spent every spare minute with the horses, in the training corrals or out on the range riding for hours, coming home far after dinner time, sometimes far after dark. The fights between Claire and their parents got so bad that Ethan learned to pack himself enough food he could go straight to school from his chores in his morning and straight back to his chores after school without ever setting foot in the war zone of the Cruz kitchen. He spent his afternoons working any job his father set him, but whenever he could get away, he’d make his way to this pen and watch Mack MacKenzie work with the horses.
Mack had lived and worked on the ranch since Ethan was ten and felt like one of the family. He was a cowboy through and through, with a swagger to his step, a joke at the ready, and a laugh that boomed out over the yard and made everyone in earshot turn to look. He seemed larger than life – a heck of a lot more fun than his quiet father, who only opened his mouth to issue orders, or so it seemed to him at the time.
His mother would come out of the Big House sometimes to bring him a glass of lemonade, and always brought one for Mack, too. He knew she did it for an excuse to step outside and get away from the cooking and cleaning that took up her days whenever she was home. He didn’t blame her – how any woman could stand inside work when the sun was blazing away in the wide Montana sky he never could fathom. He figured her frequent trips abroad were an antidote to the boredom of being a rancher’s wife.
Claire spent plenty of time at this corral, too, of course. Mack actually let her into the pen when he was working with new horses. For someone who spent half her day screaming, she had a way about her when animals were present.
Ethan smiled at the memory, then frowned as he turned to look at the Big House and saw Autumn striding purposefully up the walk to the front door. With her damn camera in her hand.
What the hell?
Jamie turned, too. “Hey Ethan. How’s it going with your new bride? Surprised to see you haven’t sent her packing yet.” He cocked his head as he watched her turn the handle on the front door to the Big House and hesitate, as if surprised to find it unlocked. She stepped inside.
Why hadn’t he sent her packing? Because he thought she was different than all the other women in his life? Because he thought maybe she might have more sense, or less avarice, or the ability to string a couple of sentences together in a row without lying? Had he lost her because of the ranch’s debts, or because he hadn’t told her about them sooner?
“I gotta go,” he said.
“Hey, take it easy on her,” Jamie said, and Ethan looked back at the wiry man who’d taken Mack’s job when the other man left the ranch. “She’s probably just curious, that’s all. She only knows as much of your history as you’ve told her.”
“What the hell do you care?”
Jamie shook his head and
Similar Books
