Page 64 of For Cowgirls and Kings (The Trauma Bonded #2)

FORTY-EIGHT

MATEO

“She’s all yours.” The clank of keys against my palm sounds more like a horn sounding, sending the soldiers rushing into the unknown before them. Which is honestly reminiscent of how I’m feeling.

I don’t know how I got here, and now that it’s happening, I don’t know what comes next. But I feel certain in my convictions, and even steadier in the end goal, and therefore, I’m ready to forge on into the unknown. Slay the dragon, Mateo!

I snort at that thought, and the red haired lady in front of me stares like I’ve lost my mind. Which is entirely possible.

“Sorry, thank you.” I tuck the keys into the front pocket of my work jeans, and glance down at my current attire. Work jeans still dusty from what I was doing before I rushed over here, a ratty grey T-shirt stained with sweat and Texas sand, and faded cowboy boots. Not my usual look.

Correction. Didn’t used to be my usual look. But for the first time, I feel comfortable in my own skin, even if I’ll miss getting dressed in pressed jeans every day.

“Well, I hope that it all turns out—” She purses her lips.

“Thanks, truly.” I offer her a small smile, and her cheeks pinken. She’s a pretty woman, close to my age, if not a year or two older, but she does nothing for me. Not when a raven-haired, fire-breathing cowgirl-princess used to fill my bed.

And will again, if I have anything to do about it.

“What do you plan to do with it?”

I expected this question to come about once I owned the building, but I still haven’t figured out the right answer. “Keep it the same for now. But eventually, I’d like to expand it.”

“It’s a staple for the people here,” she tacks on, a timid but straightforward statement. I nod, agreeing with her.

“I’ve come to church here for many years, with my family. Plus, it’s the home of some very special memories. I won’t be doing anything to get rid of any of that.”

She physically relaxes. “Well, I better be going.”

I nod again, and she leaves without another word. Maybe she was waiting for something more? There was no ring on her finger, and I definitely know when a woman is flirting, but I’m not single, and I wasn’t flirting.

Not when the next puzzle piece just clicked into place—the image of my future starting to take shape like a well-loved photo in front of me.

The roof of the large tin building shimmers as waves of heat dance off, recoiling back into the blue sky.

The air conditioning unit whirs loudly, mixing with the rustling of the wooden sign hanging from the large entry arch at the entrance of the parking lot.

Other than that, it’s just my steady breathing, and the slow, steady drum of my heart.

The last month has been hell without Dale, and hell because, well, upheaving the life of yourself and hundreds of others comes with its growing pains. In this moment though, I feel an overwhelming sense of calm— utter peace and comfort.

This is what I was meant to do. There’s no question in my mind, and for that I’m grateful.

I stride toward the door of the old sale barn, passing by the side of the building which causes me to pause.

I can almost picture Dale and I, ten years younger, full of innocence and hope, pressed into the shadows there, sharing a kiss that changed the entire trajectory of my life.

Maybe I didn’t know it then, but I sealed away my fate that day.

I sold her my heart, my soul, and I’ve been an empty lonely man without it every day since.

Walking into the giant open room, I flick on the light which hums as each of the bulbs fade into a warm glow.

It’s empty beyond the permanent arena that fills the room with the familiar scent of dirt and cattle, and a set of old, fading bleachers that could use a good power wash and fresh coat of paint.

The concrete floor’s dusty, and sand clings to the walls.

To the naked eye, it might look like the kind of investment someone might run from. But me? I see memories, I see traditions, I see the West and small town charm. I see home.

Now I just need to get the girl to share the dream with.

The dust settles around my truck, the enormous house stretching to the right of me in a grand, wooden “L”.

It’s an incredible house, with mature trees blossoming in every direction around it, and garden beds overflowing with bright red rose bushes.

It belongs on the front of a magazine, and I only hope that it can keep its sparkle once it gains its newest owner.

It would be a shame for it to crumple under the weight of such displeasure. But I can’t worry about that now— it’s a little too late for such concerns.

I smile as I notice the car parked in the driveway, and without pulling the keys from the ignition, I jump out, taking long strides to the door as it swings open.

“Mama.” I wrap my arms around her thin waist, crushing her to me. Her arms wrap equally as tight around me—it always has amazed me the strength she keeps hidden in this frail body of hers.

“Mateo! This place is beautiful.” She squeezes me once more for emphasis before releasing me, her arm sliding around my waist and turns to take in the image before her. My arm rests on her shoulder, her bob-style grey hair swept into a small twist and pulled to the side.

“Think it’ll be the next time you see it?”

She pinches my side, and clucks her tongue. “You have no faith. Maybe if you did, she wouldn’t feel like she has to work so hard to always prove that you’re right and that she really is the worst version of herself that she can be.”

“You’re not honestly implying that I’m the reason my older sister is a bi—” Her free hand slaps my stomach and I wince. “A not so nice person.”

“No, your sister is very much her own person, with her own demons. But she’s never wanted to protect and please someone more than she does you.

You might be her younger brother, but she envies and looks up to you.

She’s had to take care of herself, and you if I’m being honest with myself. Who took care of her?”

I look down at the top of my mama’s head, wondering if I stare long enough, if I’ll be able to see what’s going on inside. She was a good mom—fun, supportive, kind— nothing like V. She surely doesn’t think she did wrong by us?

I mean, she was never the most involved or present—being the wife of a powerful man didn’t give her a lot of time to play hostess and mom, and maybe she did prefer being our friend over a mother, but it could have been so much worse. I turned out happy and healthy, and she’s to thank for that.

Right?

“I can practically hear the wheels turning Mateo.” She clucks, before dropping her arms and walking towards the front door of the house.

“I’m not saying I was a bad mom, I did the best I could.

But Valentina, she played a major role in raising you.

That’s what older sisters do. And I know I relied on her too heavily, expected too much of her, pressured her too much.

She stopped being a kid a long time ago, forgetting what joy feels like, because I forced her to be the parent when I didn’t want to be.

You never had to deal with any of that. She made sure of it. ”

I don’t remember my childhood that way at all. It was full of being a wild child, finding my place within the mold my father carefully sculpted for me. My sister was always just in the background, and angry, as far as I can remember.

Mama turns to me, her brown eyes glistening with tears. “I hate that she’s fallen so far from the girl I remember. And I know this will hurt her at first, and we have to prepare for the inevitable fall out, but I think what you’re doing is right.”

“Dad would hate it,” I whisper, more to myself than her. To my surprise she nods.

“He would. And I loved your dad, in the best way I could, but he was a miserable man. And in the end I think it was the pressure he put himself under that killed him. That robbed us all of a happy life together.” She rushes back to me, her hand sliding up my face.

“You’re more of a man than he ever was, because you’re doing what’s right, not what others want of you. ”

I can’t fathom the words, even as they tumble from my mother’s lips.

They always seemed like a fit match, never arguing or disagreeing.

But if she’s so openly disagreeing with how my father lived now, what else did I miss as a child?

I had blinders on no doubt, but now I’m wondering if it was more of a hood.

“Show me this house, and tell me your plans for V. I have to get back to the airport by seven.” I follow her toward the large brass door, the weight of her words pelting me.

Just like that, she’s jetting right back out of my life. Maybe she was right and V had to deal with so much more than I realized. Would I be as bitter and angry if I was her, and in the end got nothing? No recognition or power or thanks even for everything I’d done?

The wooden floors creak as we walk in, and that new found sense of peace settles over me as I consider the answer.

Because honestly, yes, I think I would be. And hopefully, when she gets over the betrayal, we’ll be able to start over.

“So, everything is settled?” Gus asks, his mouth full of french fries.

I shrug. “It will be soon.”

“I still think you should be talking to Dale, telling her what you’re doing. I feel dirty keeping secrets from her,” Stetson interjects.

“How is Dale?” I haven’t spoken to her since she moved out, per her request, and it’s eating me alive. I had the camera’s taken down, and I only check her social media once a day. Okay, maybe twice.

“Oh no!” Stetson wavers her hands in front of her face. “You’re not using me as a middle man.”

“Come on. He’s working hard here, the least you can do is give the poor man a crumb of hope.” I smirk at Gus’s words. We’ve all but returned to our previous friendship—full of dry humor and sexual innuendos, but caring at its core.

I’m grateful. Without him, I’m not sure I’d be surviving right now.

Stetson rolls her eyes. “She’s good. She’s been at teacher training all week, which has wiped her out, but instead of drinking herself into forgetting every night, she’s been going for runs. Her therapist recommended it. There, that’s all I’m saying.”

I nibble on my lip, already berating myself for the question that’s going to spill from my mouth the second I open it, “And is she seeing anyone?”

Stetson freezes, her fork suspended midair. And then she turns the most vicious, heated glare in my direction, and I all but wither beneath it. Gus is scary, but Stetson? I’d be more terrified of her in the dark.

“You’re stupid. You know there isn’t. She loves you Mateo, and although everyone thinks she’s some hussy, you and I both know she’s not. Never has been. She just didn’t see any other option—” She sticks the bite in her mouth. “She might have, if you had told her sooner.”

“I can sympathize with Mateo, little filly.” Gus brushes his shoulder against hers.

“You would. You’re both a couple of pussies when it comes to the women you love.”

I snort, unable to deny her logic. I am scared, but only because I want things to be perfect for Dale—she deserves that much.

As if hearing my thoughts, Stetson shakes her head.

“Don’t wait too long, Mateo. She might think you don’t love her the way she thinks you do.

Dale won’t ask for anything, doesn’t mean she doesn’t want it. ”

“I know it.” I offer her a small smile and as if pleased by it, she physically relaxes. “On a different note, you’ll be glad to know I got my pen finished today, and will take Sven and Childers to my place tomorrow.”

“Want to leave Childers? I like him,” Gus states.

I shake my head, “We rode them together when she was first coming out of her darkness—he’s special. Plus, an old stable hand told me that Dale spent almost every afternoon with him that last month she lived at my house. I’m not letting him go; she’ll want him.”

“I’ll admit, that’s pretty sweet.” Stetson smiles.

“Oh yes. ‘Here my love, I kept this horse for you,’ sounds way less romantic than ‘I sold my families entire empire to move to a shitty town no one actually likes, just to be with you,’ ” Gus grumbles and Stetson and I bark a laugh in unison.

I still don’t have the right words, but the sentiment is the same. I love Dale, and I’ll do everything to show her that.