Page 11 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

Leni

It's been two weeks since the mechanical bull riding adventure, and here we are in the same place. Holden is still gone all the time, I'm still basically single-parenting it around town, and the summer heat marches along.

To be fair, one thing has changed. The kids have stopped asking when Daddy is coming back to live in the cabin.

It's sad, really. He makes an effort to be home a couple nights a week and the kids have slept in the camper with him twice, but I never in my wildest dreams thought things between Holden and me would end up like this.

From the very first moment I stopped him in the hall at the beginning of our senior year of high school, I was a goner.

I didn't play hard to get, I didn't play coy. I laid it all out on the line.

"I'm Lenora, I like you, let's date."

At which point he reminded me that he'd known me since kindergarten, he knew friends called me Leni, and he wondered why I thought I needed to introduce myself.

He said all of that with a side-tilted smile that had melted my insides until my heart synched up with his breaths and I gave up the search for anyone else.

I sassed him back with something about how he'd finally become worth noticing, and he asked me if it was because he'd hit his growth spurt over the summer and put on some muscle.

Again, I hadn't played coy. I'd nodded, told him I liked this new version of him, and reiterated that we should couple up.

He, being pragmatic to the bone, asked how I knew I liked him considering this was the longest conversation we'd ever had.

It's something in your eyes, I'd responded seriously.

He'd laughed, but he hadn't told me to stuff it and take my shallow teenage hormones somewhere else.

Instead, he asked me if my eyes had always been that brown, and I told him they'd been that color since kindergarten.

He'd grinned, and we'd stared into each other's eyes for ten whole seconds before a mutual smile tugged at our mouths, and that was the moment I'd known I had him as much as he had me. I'd found my man.

Now that man is not to be found anywhere.

I sigh as I scrunch curl-enhancing cream into my still-damp hair and work it through with my fingertips before taking a few minutes to blow it dry on low heat with a diffuser to get everything set .

The end of June always means I can count on one thing – a birthday party for my father-in-law, Abe.

The parties always involve the family, but this year things have snowballed into a community affair because Abraham Crawford is turning sixty.

Rae and I spent hours today cooking in the homestead kitchen with my kids, while Holden and his brothers mowed the backyard and set up tables and chairs, along with a few shade canopies for guests.

The grill was cleaned by Abe who trusted no one else with this job, and now we're all home getting gussied up for the affair.

It feels a little hollow standing in my small ensuite bathroom without Holden puttering around me, reaching for his deodorant, or trying to spit his toothpaste into the sink while I chat about who's coming and what I've heard recently about them.

I am equal parts looking forward to the party and dreading it.

By this point the Crawfords all know we're separated, as does my sister Steph, but I don't think word has leaked to the community.

Mostly because my kids don't want to talk about something that makes them sad, and the Crawfords all seem to be operating under the assumption that this is a phase and we'll be reconciling soon.

(Ironic, given the amount of promising and pleading Holden and I did when we got married to convince them that we could do this.

Now we're the ones unsure about our relationship while others act like it's a forgone conclusion that we belong together. Plot twist!)

I wish I had their faith. As of yet, I've not seen enough of a change in Holden to believe we have a chance. As the weeks pass, I know I'll have to make a firm decision sooner than later, but I can't stomach it yet. It's terrifying.

Which means that tonight we have a public face to put on.

I am going to have to act normally around Holden, and I've never been great at faking my emotions.

I did my yoga this morning, and kept up cheerful conversation in the kitchen with Rae, but the long day is catching up to me and I feel vulnerable and alone.

From my open bathroom window I can see the camper.

I picture that large cowboy in that tiny bathroom and almost feel bad for him.

Okay, I do feel a little bad. I want him to be miserable missing me, not overall miserable in life. There is a difference.

Jo-Jo appears in the bathroom doorway, dressed in a ruffled pistachio-colored summer dress and matching sandals. This is an occasion and Jo-Jo doesn't mind getting dressed up for those. Courtesy of Grandma Rae and their tea parties, she has plenty of fancy dresses to choose from.

"Grampa likes green," she says, twirling around in her dress, her long dark hair whirling with her. She's wearing the flower crown Rae bought her last month and it looks adorable on her. "I'm a fairy princess."

"You are," I smile down at her. "How thoughtful of you, Miss Jo, to wear green for your grandpa."

She smiles, toothless and happy, and I motion for her to come into the small room so I can do her hair.

"How fancy?" I ask, hanging the wreath of flowers on a towel hook before running my fingers through her locks to comb out some snarls.

She bites at her lips in thought. Josi is not one to make spontaneous decisions.

She's thoughtful and likes there to be a reason for the things she does.

Basically, she's more Holden than me. It's really fun to parent someone who needs an explanation for everything.

Thankfully she's mostly good natured and can reason things out quickly, but before she could talk it was a bit touch-and-go there.

"No curls. Two braids, with bows on the end," Josi states.

It's a good choice. I can quickly do two braids and tie ribbons at the bottom.

No curls will save even more time, and for bonus points, it will keep her hair out of her face and off her neck on this warm night.

The floral crown will top it off perfectly.

I hum a lullaby while I braid, and she stands quietly watching in the mirror with her big round eyes taking it all in.

If she keeps observing me so closely, I suspect she'll be able to braid her own hair by a far earlier age than I learned to.

I didn't figure out how to do my hair until I was twenty. True story.

I'm tying the bows when Mason pops in. He's dressed in a short-sleeved Henley tee and joggers, and I have to try not to laugh at the fact he's left the top buttons on the tee open and pushed the collar to the side to show some chest. Man, this kid is trying so hard to be Walker, and it's cracking me up.

His dark hair is slicked back behind his ears, and he's giving off desperate bar patron seeks company , which is not appropriate for a twelve-year-old even if I want to snap a pic and send it to Steph with laughing faces.

"Mace, I'm going to have to make some changes here," I say as I tie off Josi's last bow.

His face is set in stubborn lines that Holden would say remind him of me. "No way," Mason replies.

"You're not old enough to dress like that," I state, while praying that by the time he is old enough to dress that way he'll choose not to.

I mean, at least he's not in sports gear for once.

"What's wrong with it?" he asks, looking down at his outfit.

"Let's do up that button and close the collar a little," I reach out and do it while he grumbles and pouts.

"Walker leaves his shirt open," Mason argues.

Not actually true. He doesn't button it up like he's some prim country maid, but he's not showing off his belly button either.

"Walker is grown up," Josi says, turning to look at her brother. "What's wrong with your hair?"

I tamp down on a laugh and watch as Mason pushes past his sister to claim the small spot in front of the mirror. He turns his head and does his best to look at the back of it, and when he faces Josi again it's with a frown.

"Nothing's wrong. It looks fine," he says.

Josi giggles and shakes her head. "It's strange. "

Mason tosses her a patronizing look. "Just shows you know nothing about fashion."

Josi turns her bright eyes up at me. "Tell him, Mama. It's strange."

Mason rolls his eyes. He's grown a lot in the past year and I've only got an inch or two on him at this point. Pretty soon he'll outgrow me, and I can already see shadows of that man when I gaze at his set jaw and flashing eyes.

"Leni? Kids?"

Holden's deep voice calling from downstairs interrupts us before I have to break Mason's heart by telling him his hair actually does look strange.

The kids immediately forget what we were doing here and take off with smiles, headed down the stairs to greet their dad.

I'll let Holden drop the news on the hair. It's his turn.

I work my way to my bed where I've laid out my outfit.

My hair has finished drying, and I fluff it a bit to give it some lift before changing into the violet halter-top dress.

I picked it on purpose to make Holden look twice.

He loves me in violet. He says it makes my eyes even more stunning.

I liked it a lot when Holden thought my eyes were stunning.

I'd like it even more if he ate his heart out tonight.

I finish off the outfit with black sandals that have enough of a heel to make my toned calves look amazing. Yeah, I'm playing dirty tonight.

"Leni?" Holden calls again, and I'm honestly surprised he's still here. I expected that he'd take off with the kids and I'd meet them at his parents' place, but I guess he's waiting. "You almost ready?"