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She met my gaze. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life,” I replied without any hesitation.
trigger warning
The following chapter contains discussions of miscarriage and a past suicide attempt. The characters reflect on grief, trauma, and the emotional weight of their experiences.
If these themes are complex for you, please read with care. Your well-being matters. If you need support, consider reaching out to someone you trust or a professional resource.
CHAPTER 34
elena
Ididn’t plan on taking Duke to Nash’s grave,ever, considering how he’d been behaving since he came back. But his genuine remorse told me that he’d respect Nash’s last wishes.
Since the cottonwood was a good twenty-minute ride out, we took the ATV instead of saddling up. The horses had worked hard enough that day, and I didn’t have the wherewithal to tack up.
The engine rumbled low beneath us, the cool April breeze cutting through the quiet. The land stretched vast and endless around us, and the twilight sky hung heavy with clouds that hadn’t yet decided if they’d break.
When we reached the cottonwood, I cut the engine, and the silence pressed in—thick and heavy. We climbed out, our boots crunching through the dry grass as we walked the rest of the way.
Duke stopped a few paces from where his father lay,hands on his hips, staring down at the simple wooden cross.
“What’s this?” he asked, but I knew he knew.
“Mama is here.” I pointed to her resting place with the cross and her name carved into it. “And…Nash is here.” I waved to the cross and his saddle.
Duke stared down at the earth, his breathing suddenly heavier, confusion etched across his face. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to grieve—or maybe he was just angry as hell. I wasn’t sure. A flicker of doubt crept in. Had I been too hasty in bringing him here?
Then his shoulders shook. A ragged breath. A quiet, broken sound.
His knees hit the ground, dust rising in a soft cloud around him.
I knelt beside him, pressing my hand against the dirt as if touching the earth meant touching the man who had raised me, the man who had broken me, the man I had loved and resented in equal measure.
Without thinking, I pulled him into me, wrapping my arms around him as he fell apart. Because I loved Duke Wilder with everything I had, and seeing him like this—raw, hurting, shattered—felt like a hot poker straight through my chest. So, I held him. Let him grieve. Let him mourn. Let him release all the sorrow, the guilt, the heartache that had been locked inside him for too damn long.
I knew what it felt like to lose a parent. But for Duke, it wasn’t just loss—it was regret. A bone-deep ache overthe words left unsaid, the chances not taken, the wounds never healed. And now, it was too late.
“He was happy when he died.” I stroked his back and felt him clutch my hips hard. The ground hurt my knees, but I didn’t care. My man was with me, and my world had never felt this right. “I told him that you’d forgiven him, that you loved him. I told him that you were going to keep the ranch and save it for your children. I told him?—”
“Lies,” he whispered, raising his head. He cupped my face. “You lied for me.”
Tears filled my eyes. “And for him.”
“But also for me.”
I nodded. I had no guardrails, no protection against this man. I never had any. Was I foolish? Yes, probably, but wasn’t love supposed to make us stupid?
“I don’t deserve you.”
I laughed softly. “You don’t have me.”
“Lying again,Florecita.”
I stilled. He hadn’t called me that since…since he left, and I felt tremors run through me at the intimacy.
“Don’t,” I murmured, wanting to protect my heart, save myself.