Page 11 of Claimed by the Cowboy (Havenstone: Mail Order Brides #3)

Kitty

We’re both quiet as we clean up and dress before heading back to the house.

The guilt hits me the moment I walk through the ranch house door.

Not guilt about what happened with Tom—that was the most perfect experience I’ve ever had. The guilt comes from what we’re about to do to the arrangement that was supposed to save everything. I don’t want to be the reason Tom and his family lose their ranch.

The front door bangs open behind us, and Angus walks in with Henry right behind him. They both stop dead when they see us .

“Well, hell,” Henry says slowly. “What happened to you two?”

Angus squints at us. “Is that moss in your hair?”

I open my mouth. Close it.

Tom steps in valiantly. “We, uh… took an unplanned swim.”

Angus crosses his arms. “Fully clothed?”

“Slippery rock,” Tom offers. “Kitty fell in. I went after her.”

“Like a rescue mission,” I add, nodding too fast. “Very heroic.”

Henry raises one eyebrow. His gaze drops meaningfully to Tom’s shirt, which I suddenly realize is inside out. “You didn’t have time to dress properly after… rescuing her?” he asks politely.

Tom runs a hand through his hair, still avoiding his brothers’ knowing looks. “Things got... complicated real fast.”

“Must’ve been,” Angus says, lips twitching. “Hell of a mess you two got into.”

Tom lets out a low groan. “We slipped. That’s it.”

“Sure,” Angus says cheerfully. “And I suppose the love bite on your neck is from a rogue trout?”

I let out a strangled sound. Tom swears under his breath.

Henry clears his throat again, clearly trying to give us an out. “You two might want to clean up before anyone sees you.”

My stomach twists. Delaney.

Angus softens his tone. “We’re not judging. Just… maybe go hose off before your alibi gets any flimsier.”

I nod mutely.

Tom reaches for my hand, linking our fingers. “Hot coffee first.”

Behind us, I hear Angus whisper to Henry, “I give it two days before one of them cracks.”

Henry’s reply is low and grave. “They already did.”

Tom and I come to a halt as we see Delaney sitting at the kitchen table, realizing she must have heard everything .

She looks up from a notebook covered in neat handwriting, takes in our rumpled clothes and guilty expressions, and sets down her pen.“I’m not stupid. I see the way you two look at each other.”

Silence descends.

Henry and Angus, who’ve followed us into the kitchen, exchange glances like they’re watching a train derail in slow motion.

“Delaney—” Tom starts.

“Please.” She holds up a hand. “I was born at night, but not last night.” Her gaze sharpens on Tom.

“I’ve seen the tension between you, the way you keep finding excuses to be near each other.

You don’t look at me the way you look at Kitty.

Like you’re holding your breath whenever you’re in the same room.

You know what you want, Tom, but you’re scared to admit it. ”

“Admit what?”

Delaney studies us for a long moment, then closes her notebook with a decisive snap. “That you want to marry my sister.”

The words hang in the air like a challenge.

Tom looks at his brothers, then at me, his gaze full of everything we did by the creek. Of the moments and intimacies we’ve shared over the last ten days—not just physical, but also the quiet confessions when we opened up to each other.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I do.”

My eyes widen in shock.

Henry releases a breath.

Angus raises an eyebrow.

But instead of anger, Delaney's face shows something like relief. “Thank God.”

I would speak, but my jaw is currently trailing on the floor.

Tom frowns. “I… You’re relieved ?”

Honestly, the look on his face would be comical if the situation weren’t so fraught with tension.

“You think I wanted to marry a man who looked at me like I was a business deal?” She lets out a hollow laugh. “Tom, I came here for security. Safety. A partnership, not love. But watching you two?” Her gaze shifts to me. “That’s real.”

Tom shakes his head. “But the arrangement?—”

“Was about survival,” she cuts him off. “Not about soulmates. The will says you have to marry. Doesn’t say who.”

“You're really okay with this?”

“I wanted security for Kitty and me. A home.” Delaney’s voice softens as she looks at me. “But I won’t marry a man who’s in love with my sister.”

“What are you saying?”Henry asks quietly.

“I'm saying that if your brother and my sister want to be together, they should be together. I’m releasing Tom from his contract with me.”

Angus nods, respect glinting in his blue eyes as he regards Delaney. “And what about you?”

Delaney shrugs, but I see the vulnerability she tries so hard to hide in her eyes. “I’d like to stay… if you’ll let me.”

Tom turns to her, his voice firm. “You have a home here for as long as you want, Delaney. You belong here too.”

“Thank you. That’s... generous. I’m starting to think Montana might suit me,” she says quietly. “Even if it’s not the way I pictured.”

“Then it’s settled,” Henry states. “Tom and Kitty get married. Delaney gets a fresh start. And the ranch survives.”

Everyone smiles. It’s tidy. Neat. Wrapped up in a bow.

“Not quite settled,” I say, my voice rising with my anger above the hum of satisfied agreement. “Has anyone asked me what I want?”

The room goes still.

All eyes turn to me. It’s like the air gets sucked out of the kitchen.

“I mean, really asked me,” I continue, my chest tightening.

“Not assumed I’d go along with the plan.

Not made decisions around me like I’m a.

.. footnote in someone else’s story. All my life, decisions have been made for me.

Where I live. What I eat. Whether I can go outside if the pollen count’s too high.

Whether I remembered my damn inhaler.” I turn my gaze to my sister.

“I get it—you worried, Delaney. But I’m not a child anymore. ”

Delaney’s face tightens, pain flickering in her eyes.

“I don’t want to be the girl who’s only safe if someone else is managing her life,” I finish, chest heaving.

Delaney stands and reaches for me. “Kitty, I?—”

“No.” I step back. “I don’t want to be handed over like a solution to a problem. I’ve spent my whole life following everyone else’s plan. First our parents, then you, then this whole ranch arrangement.” My voice cracks. “Does anyone even care what I want?”

Delaney looks stricken. “That’s not what I meant?—”

“I know,” I say quickly. “But it’s how it feels.”

Tom takes a step toward me, but I shake my head.

“I need some air. I need to breathe. I need... space.”

I turn and walk out the back door, boots thudding against the porch steps as I flee into the afternoon light.

I don’t go far. Just to the new barn with the stripes of sage that Tom and I painted, where the land opens wide and the sun spills across the grass in long, forgiving shadows. I wrap my arms around myself and stand there, shaking—not from cold, but from everything that just happened.

Footsteps approach, soft but sure.

Delaney stops beside me. “I wasn’t trying to control you.”

“I know,” I whisper.

We stand in silence, the warm wind tugging strands of hair across my face. Finally, I say, “I need to feel like someone sees me —not the little sister who needs protecting. Not the one everyone decides things for.”

Delaney exhales, long and quiet. “I’ve been doing that, haven’t I?”

I shrug. “You didn’t mean to. But yeah. ”

“When Mom and Dad died, I was drowning,” she admits quietly. “Eighteen years old, and suddenly, I had to be everything. I didn’t know how to grieve and protect you at the same time, so I skipped the grieving part. I went into survival mode and just… stayed there.”

I glance at her, and for once, she’s not composed or in control. She looks raw. Real.

“You gave up everything,” I whisper.

“So did you,” she replies. “You lost your childhood. And I never let you grow out of that role.”

A breeze stirs the grass. We both look out over the ranch, the sun slanting across the pasture. For a moment, I see us as we were years ago—two sisters clinging to each other in a too-small apartment, scared of everything but certain we at least had each other.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Delaney says, voice breaking. “Not over this. Not after everything we’ve survived.”

“You’re not losing me,” I whisper fiercely. “You never could. But I need to choose what comes next. Not for safety. Not for someone else’s plan. For me. For once in my life, I want something wild and selfish and mine.”

She nods, tears spilling now. “Then do it. Be brave. You’ve earned it.”

I turn to her, startled.

Her mouth lifts in a trembling smile. “I’m tired of making all the choices, Kitty. Tired of holding up the world.”

I’ve always known my sister sacrificed for me—knew she worked herself raw and carried more weight than anyone should have at her age—but standing here now, I see it.

The shadows under her eyes, the brittleness in her voice, the way her shoulders sag as if she’s only now letting herself feel the years of strain.

All those nights she sat up with me through asthma attacks. The times she went without dinner so I could eat. The endless jobs she juggled, the careful lists and plans, the way she tried to hold everything together when she was barely more than a kid herself.

I thought I understood, but I didn’t. Not really. Not until this moment, when I realize how heavy the burden has been and how much she’s willing to carry, even now that we’re safe.

My heart aches. For her. For both of us.

“You don’t have to hold it up anymore,” I whisper. “Not alone. Not for me.”

Her breath shudders out. “This is your life now. Your choices. It’s your time to shine. To live .”

My throat closes, and a tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it, followed by another.

Delaney opens her arms. Not as a parent, not as a protector, but as my sister. I step into them, burying my face in her shoulder. She smells faintly of laundry soap and ink, achingly familiar.

“I’m scared,” I whisper into the fabric of her shirt.

“I know,” she murmurs, holding me tighter. “But you’re so much stronger than you think. Stronger than any of us know. You always have been, and I’m so proud of you.”

A throat clears behind us.

Tom .

I pull back from Delaney, scrubbing my cheeks with the heels of my hands.

Delaney glances between us, then touches my arm. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

She brushes past Tom, leaving us alone in the lengthening light.