Page 29 of A Montana Fake Marriage (Sagebrush Ranch Sweethearts #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Why did he feel so… lost?

Years.

Caleb had been friends with Sammie for years, and suddenly it felt like he’d lost hold of even that. It didn’t matter that he told her he’d be there for her. Nor did it matter that he told himself he wouldn’t abandon her.

He knew better.

Caleb got one look at her when she entered the bedroom the other night, and all he wanted to do was pull her into a body-crushing embrace. He’d craved her touch, and fighting that craving had nearly done him in.

Then she’d cried.

Those tears ripped right through him, shredding his resolve. In that moment, he’d wanted so badly to tell her he didn’t care how she felt about him, he was going to keep her all to himself. He’d nearly offered anything just to get her to stop crying.

But he didn’t.

Caleb had held her close, rubbed her back, and whispered that they’d be okay. They’d come out of bad situations before.

Only this time, the bad situation was breaking his heart more than anything else.

He hadn’t told his parents what happened. They’d asked. His father had brought it up several times already. His mother was concerned.

A divorce? Didn’t he want to wait? To think things over before he let go of the woman he loved?

Of course he did! That was the problem. He’d let himself get so deep into the throes of love with the woman that he couldn’t think straight.

But she didn’t love him. She’d made that perfectly clear as far as he was concerned.

She’d gone against him in every sense of the word.

She’d reached out to her father, she’d let him weasel into her mind and her heart. And she’d lost faith in him.

If she’d loved him, nothing like that would have been so easy.

Caleb grunted as he threw his back into using the fence post driver.

He’d intentionally chosen to help the wranglers today—the guys who needed to repair some of the fence that sat between them and the property to the north.

The last thing he wanted was for their cattle to get out and graze on something that would put his project at risk.

He was still monitoring the feed he’d given them and all the other animals he was working with. If anything got compromised, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to mentally handle it.

There were two other guys working with him. He wasn’t sure of their names, but he didn’t care to. Sweat beaded his brow as he hammered down the fence post again. After he was done, the guys would come over and put the wire where it belonged.

The metal of the fence poster clanged against the metal of the bar he hammered into the ground. It rattled and vibrated, making his arms tingle when he hit it at just the right angle. Unfortunately, that sensation wasn’t enough to tear his thoughts from Sammie.

Where had he gone wrong?

That was the question he couldn’t stop asking himself. He’d shied away from falling for her in the beginning—unwilling to accept that she might have feelings for him. But she had. He’d seen it. He’d felt it.

It just hadn’t been enough.

Could he have done something differently? Her issues with finances were similar to his own—they each worried about taking care of themselves. It all came back to that blasted prenup. Why hadn’t he thought about signing one?

Duh.

Because he wasn’t after her money. How on earth was he supposed to prove a negative at this point? There would be no way to convince her of that fact. Her father had found the perfect little crack in his daughter’s relationship. The guy was good.

Caleb seethed, thwacking the fence poster down even harder.

“Easy, Reese. You need to get it in the ground, not strike oil.”

He turned his dark gaze on the cowboy at his side. The man took one look at him and lifted placating hands before backing up a few steps. “Never mind. Drill away. But don’t get mad at me if you end up hurting yourself.”

Caleb was already hurting. It was the most excruciating pain he’d ever experienced.

It knocked the air from his lungs and made him reconsider everything he knew about himself.

If losing Sammie in the capacity he’d had her hurt this much, then what would happen if he lost her altogether?

The second they finalized the divorce, she could slip off to hidden parts of the country and never see him again.

He was going to be sick. There was no other way around it.

The little voice that kept warning him he’d made the wrong choice only grew louder the more time he thought about what had happened.

Would she even take him back if he apologized?

Probably not. With the way she let down her walls and cried the other night, chances were slim she’d ever want to take him back.

Caleb scowled at the food on his plate. As much as he wanted to avoid Sammie entirely, he couldn’t.

It wasn’t just the fact that his folks insisted they still had family dinners.

It was the fact that he couldn’t seem to stay away.

Even with the way things had ended, he craved being with her.

He wanted to ask her how her day had been. He wanted to take her out on a date.

Shoot!

He’d become so addicted to being with her that knowing he had to keep his distance seemed to be making him physically ill.

“Caleb? You okay, honey?”

A sharp dig to his ribs startled him from his thoughts, and he became all too aware that everyone at the kitchen table was staring at him.

Caleb avoided looking down the table at the one pair of eyes he couldn’t bear to look into.

Sammie.

She was finally joining them for dinners as well.

There was some sort of hangup with the paperwork and her inheritance.

She hadn’t gotten her money yet, and he wasn’t going to risk finalizing the divorce until he knew she would be okay.

He knew all too well how hard it was for someone to get their feet under them after a major life event like this one.

Caleb glanced up at his mother. Her sad eyes were so easy to read.

They weren’t just sad. There was worry there.

And pity. He could see it plain as day. While she hadn’t outright told him that he shouldn’t get a divorce yet, she hadn’t hidden the way her mouth had thinned when she bit back that motherly advice.

He nodded, pushing away from the table. “I just don’t feel good. I’m heading to bed early.”

Once he was in the room he temporarily called his own, he pulled out the divorce papers that he’d hidden beneath his pillow.

All the tabs were in place for where to sign.

He couldn’t bring himself to sign the dang things early, even if he didn’t give them over to Sammie yet. Signing them felt too final.

The cot came up beneath him as he collapsed onto the firm surface. Eventually, he’d have to give them to her. Eventually, she’d give them right back. She’d take her money, and then she’d flee to whatever part of the country felt right for her.

He felt empty inside. Maybe he should just give her the documents and let her sign them first. Then at least he knew where her heart was.

Before he could second guess his decisions, he took the offensive documents and placed them on his old bed—the bed where Sammie currently slept.

Eventually, she’d finalize the stuff with her dad.

Then she could sign the document. She already had the post-nup—a promise that neither one of them would try to take what the other had.

It was all so… juvenile.

At least that’s how it felt to him.

He would never let her suffer out in the world on her own. And he wished she had been able to trust him.

The following day, as he continued to fume over his impossible situation, he was prepared to come home and attempt to talk Sammie into having a better discussion.

It had only been about a week since they’d decided to part ways.

All the red tape that held them in limbo might actually be a good thing.

The second he stepped through the door, his mother shoved a letter into his chest. Her utter delight had him wondering what on earth she could be so thrilled about.

Then he looked down at the envelope.

His patent.

He slipped his finger into the flap of paper and slid it across the top. Hands shaking, Caleb didn’t dare breathe. This could be one of those letters to inform him that the patent wasn’t going to be approved because he didn’t have anything unique to offer. He’d prepared himself for such a notice.

The slip of paper he unfolded said otherwise.

“What does it say?” his mother gushed.

Approved .

All that work. All his effort. He’d finally gotten something he’d wanted. He lifted his head, and a disbelieving smile crossed his face. “I did it.”

She let out a whoop and pulled him in for a hug.

This was the most exciting thing to happen to him since his graduation. And there was only one person he wanted to share his news with.

“I’m going to fix us a celebratory dinner!” His mother pulled back and patted his cheek with her hand. “And whatever dessert you want.” She hurried off to the kitchen, and Caleb cast a glance toward the stairs.

He hadn’t seen Sammie outside. She must have finished her work early.

His whole body warmed with the thought of sharing this part of his life with her. Wife or not, she was still his best friend, and he needed her to revel in his accomplishment with him.

“Sammie!” he called, taking the steps two at a time. His heart beat faster, and the desolation he’d felt upon coming home had faded to a dull ache. Right now, he could be happy. He could celebrate with the most important person in his life. “Sammie, guess what?—”

He burst into their old room and froze. The first thing he noticed was an obvious emptiness.

It wasn’t just the fact that she wasn’t in the room itself.

It was the lack of anything that belonged to her.

The suitcase. The occasional article of clothing.

Not even her phone or perfume lined the table beside the bed.

All that was left of her was a stack of paperwork on the bed.

Before he approached, he knew what it was. Caleb couldn’t bring himself to walk toward it—as if the stapled set of pages would strike out and bite him. He knew danger when he saw it.

Caleb eyed the pristine sheets of paper, more dread flooding his body than he was prepared to admit. He swallowed hard and took his first step, the letter in his fingers falling to the floor in an arcing swoop.

The divorce papers in all their ugly glory had been signed, left open on the final page where Sammie’s eloquent handwriting swooped over the last line.

Hot tears burned behind his eyes. She’d actually signed them.

Somehow, he’d actually held out hope that she wouldn’t do it, that she wouldn’t be brave enough to sever the ties between them.

But she had.

He couldn’t touch them, couldn’t look at them. Simply being in this room was making him feel suffocated and like he was going to lose his head. He turned on his heel and strode from the room, not looking back, that letter lying on the floor mocking him.

Sammie was gone.

She was actually gone, and he wasn’t going to win her back.