Page 49 of Broken Roads (Hard to Handle #1)

Hailey

T he atmosphere in the truck feels like Christmas morning and a funeral procession all at once.

A strange mixture of celebration and caution as we bring Bradford home after six long days in the hospital.

Bradley drives with careful precision, not hitting a single pothole on the ranch's winding dirt road, while Sebastian sits in the back with their father, monitoring his every breath.

I steal glances at Bradley's profile from the passenger seat, at the tension that still lingers in his jaw despite the good news, at the way his eyes flick to the rearview mirror every few minutes to check on his father.

"Almost home, Dad," Bradley announces as the ranch house, silhouetted against the afternoon sky, comes into view.

Bradford nods, his tired face brightening at the sight of home. "About damn time. Hospital beds weren't made for old cowboys."

Sebastian snorts out a laughs. "Most patients don't try to escape three times in six days."

"Wasn't escaping," Bradford grumbles. "Just taking a walk."

"Down the fire escape at three in the morning?" Sebastian asks with a raised a brow.

Bradley's fingers find mine across the center console, squeezing gently.

The simple touch a reminder of how much has changed in such a short time.

What started as heated glances across the breakfast table has deepened into something I never expected to find here, especially not with the stubborn cowboy who fought me at every turn when I first arrived.

Ruthie waits on the porch with her arms crossed as the truck rolls to a stop in front of the house. The moment Bradley cuts the engine, she moves down the steps with surprising speed for a woman her age.

"Don't you dare try to walk on your own, Bradford Walker," she calls out, pointing a warning finger as Sebastian helps his father from the truck.

Bradford makes a show of sighing heavily, but doesn't resist when his sons flank him on either side, supporting his weight as he takes careful steps toward the house. I hang back slightly, watching this family that's become mine in ways I'm still trying to understand.

"This is ridiculous," Bradford mutters as they help him up the porch steps. "I can walk fine on my own."

"Humor us," Sebastian says. "Doctor's orders."

"Getting real tired of hearing that phrase," Bradford grumbles, but there's no real heat behind it.

Inside, they guide him to his favorite armchair by the fireplace. The relief on his face as he sinks into it is almost painful to witness. This is where he belongs, not in a hospital room with its beeping machines.

"Can a man get a decent cup of coffee around here?" Bradford asks, looking hopefully at Ruthie. "Hospital coffee tasted like motor oil."

Ruthie narrows her eyes. "Decaf. And don't give me that look. Doctor's orders."

Bradford turns to Sebastian with betrayal written across his features. "You're cutting me off coffee now?"

"Just until your medication stabilizes," Sebastian explains. "Then we can talk about one cup a day. Maybe."

I slip into the kitchen to help Ruthie, leaving the Walker men to their reunion. Though I can’t help but watch through the doorway.

Bradley and Sebastian stand near their father's chair. The resemblance between them is striking, especially now with the worst of their anger burned away. Same strong jaw. Same intensity in their dark eyes. Same protective stance as they hover near their father.

"I've been thinking," Sebastian says. "I could drive up once a month. Check your vitals, adjust your meds if needed."

Bradford waves a dismissive hand. "Don't need you rearranging your fancy doctor schedule for me. I'm fine."

"It's not just for you." Sebastian glances at Bradley, then back to their father. "I've missed a lot. Maybe too much. But if you'll let me, I'd like to start making up for lost time."

The vulnerability in his voice sends a wave of emotion through the room. Bradford's eyes shine suspiciously bright in the afternoon light, and Bradley looks away, jaw working as he processes his brother's words.

"Once a month sounds good," Bradley finally says, his voice gruff but steady. "Ranch is pretty in the fall. You should come back then, see the aspens change."

Just then my phone vibrates in my pocket, startling me out of the moment. Glancing at the screen, I see Tessa's name and picture flashing at me.

"Excuse me," I murmur to Ruthie before slipping toward the front door.

Bradley's eyes follow me as I step onto the porch, concern briefly flickering across his features. I give him a reassuring smile before answering.

"Well, look who finally remembers she has a phone," Tessa's voice booms through the speaker, warm with affection despite the scolding. "One-word text updates aren't going to cut it anymore, girl. I need details."

With a laugh, I lean against the porch railing. "Sorry. It's been a crazy week."

"I gathered that much from your cryptic breadcrumbs. How's the father-in-law doing?"

Heat floods my cheeks at the casual way she says father-in-law, as if Bradley and I are already something permanent. "He's home now. He'll be okay with medication and rest, though I'm not sure rest is in the Walker vocabulary."

"And how about the brooding cowboy?” she asks. “Still brooding?"

I glance through the window where I can see Bradley standing with his father and brother, the three of them engaged in conversation that looks almost normal. "He's good. Better. His brother showed up just as Bradford collapsed. They're... working things out."

"And you?" Her voice softens. "How are you really doing?"

The question makes me pause. When I first came here, I wasn’t sure how long I’d stay but now...

"I'm better than good," I tell her, watching Bradley through the window again. He smiles at something his father says, and my heart does a funny little flip in my chest. "I'm exactly where I'm meant to be."

Tessa's excited squeal makes me pull the phone away from my ear. "Eep. Does this mean you're staying in Montana? With Tall, Dark, and Cowboy?"

The question should terrify me. I've spent years running—from my past, from commitment, from anything that felt too much like putting down roots. But as I watch the Walker family, something settles in my chest. A certainty I've never felt before.

"Yes," I answer, the word coming easily. "I'm staying."

Just then the screen door creaks and Bradley steps out.

“Gotta go,” I tell Tessa. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” My thumb hovers over the end call button, and her voice faintly comes through the speaker, "Call me later with all the juicy details."

With a laugh, I tap the red icon before sliding the phone into my back pocket. When I look up, Bradley's standing closer than I expected, his expression a careful mix of concern and something deeper that makes my heart stumble over itself.

"Everything okay?" he asks, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Just Tessa checking in," I say, leaning into his touch. "Apparently my text updates have been too brief for her liking."

He traces the curve of my cheek, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "She's not wrong. Fine isn't exactly a detailed health report."

"I had more important things to focus on." I step closer, eliminating the space between us until I can feel the solid warmth of him.

Behind Bradley, through the window, I can see Sebastian helping Bradford adjust in his chair while Ruthie fusses with blankets and pillows. This family that's been fractured for so long, taking tentative steps toward healing. And somehow, against all odds, I've become part of it.

"You're thinking awfully hard about something," Bradley murmurs, hands settling at my waist.

The Montana landscape stretches out behind us. Endless sky meets rolling hills that fade into distant mountains. When I first came here, I saw only isolation in this vastness. Now I see freedom. I see home.

"I was just thinking about how different everything is from when I first arrived," I admit, resting my hands on his chest. "About how I came here planning to stay just long enough to fix the ranch's finances and then escape back to civilization."

A shadow crosses his face. "And now?"

The question hangs between us, weighted with everything neither of us has put into words yet. We've shared our bodies, our secrets, our fears. We've fallen into each other with a kind of desperate hunger that still takes my breath away. But there's one truth I haven't spoken out loud.

I take a deep breath. "I just told Tessa I'm staying."

His eyes widen slightly, hope flickering across his features. "In Montana?"

"On this ranch." I hold his gaze, watching as understanding dawns. "With you."

His hands tighten at my waist, but he says nothing, waiting for me to continue. That's one of the things I've come to love about Bradley Walker…he knows when to push and when to simply wait.

"I love you."

I don't elaborate, don't qualify it with explanations or conditions. Just three words that I've been carrying inside me, waiting for the right moment to set them free.

For one heartbeat, two, three, Bradley remains perfectly still. Then his face transforms—the surprise melting into something so warm, so open that it steals my breath. The corners of his eyes crinkle, lines etched by sun and laughter deepening as a smile breaks across his face like sunrise.

"Say that again," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

A laugh bubbles up my throat. "I love you, Bradley Walker. Even when you're being stubborn as hell. Maybe especially then."

His hands slide up to frame my face, fingers gently stroking my skin. "Fuck, Hailey." The words come out ragged. "I've been trying to find the right way to tell you the same thing for days."

My heart pounds so hard I'm sure he can feel it. "You don't need the right way. Just tell me."

"I love you. Probably have since you showed up in that pink dress at breakfast and made me forget how to breathe."

I roll onto my toes, closing the small distance between us to press my lips against his. The kiss is gentle at first, a confirmation, but quickly deepens into something more urgent. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against him as my fingers tangle in his hair.

When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, he rests his forehead against mine. "This is home," he murmurs. "You. Us. This place."

The sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of orange and pink. The air smells of pine and horses and hay and the undefinable scent that is uniquely Montana.

"I never thought I'd find home again," I confess, the words barely audible. "After my parents died, after the accident... I stopped believing I deserved one."

Bradley cups the back of my neck, his touch both gentle and grounding. "You deserve everything, sunshine. Everything good in this world."

A bark cuts through the moment, and we both turn to see Bandit bounding up the porch steps. The border collie skids to a stop beside us, tail wagging furiously as he looks between us with bright, expectant eyes.

"Someone feels left out," I laugh, reaching down to scratch behind the dog's ears.

Bradley watches us, something soft and wondering in his expression. "Family," he says, his voice low. "You, me, this troublemaker. Dad back home. Even Sebastian sticking around for a while."

"Family," I repeat, testing the word. It feels right. After years of being alone, of keeping everyone at a safe distance, I've somehow stumbled into belonging.

Bandit nudges my hand, demanding more attention, and I oblige, smoothing the soft fur between his ears. "Think he approves of me staying?"

Bradley laughs. "He approved of you before I did, the traitor. Started following you around while I was still being an ass."

"You weren't that bad," I tease, knowing full well how much he fought against my presence in those early days.

"I was worse," he admits, pulling me back into his arms. Bandit settles at our feet, apparently satisfied with his share of attention. "Thank heavens you're stubborn."

Behind us I can hear the murmur of voices—Sebastian and Bradford engaged in conversation, Ruthie's occasional interjection. The sounds of family. Of home.

"I love you," I say again, because now that the words have been spoken, I can't seem to stop them. They rise up in me like a tide, inevitable and true.

Bradley's answering smile is everything I never knew I was looking for. "I love you too, sunshine. Welcome home."