Page 12 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

Rather than answer, I grab my small purse and head down the stairs to find him waiting with the kids standing on either side of him.

It looks like such a normal family moment that my toes tense in my shoes as I descend.

Holden isn't wearing his hat tonight, and his dark hair looks good freshly washed and combed.

He's left the beard growth, but trimmed it up, and his dark jeans look brand new.

Maybe he's playing dirty tonight too.

I catch a whiff of his pine-scented body wash as I come to stand with my family and say, "Hey."

He nods, his jaw flexing. "You look nice."

My lips twitch. My scheme worked, because he's looked twice now. "Thank you. You do too."

"Figured we could ride over together, you know, keep up the image and all," he states gruffly.

And . . . my hopefulness vanishes like he's flipped a switch.

"Of course," I respond, all warmth gone from my tone. "Don't want to deal with uncomfortable questions."

I breeze past him and out the door, and the kids – subdued now by my obvious mood shift – follow me.

I'm up and into the passenger side of Holden's truck before he can get there to open the door for me.

I watch his stiff shoulders as he rounds the front of the truck, and I turn to tell the kids to get buckled.

Mason's hair has been fixed. It still looks like he put too much product in it, but now it's a little messy and less smarmy. Sadly, even that's not enough to put me in a good mood.

Holden gets us moving on the short drive to the homestead, and it's frigid inside the car.

I hold myself stiff, facing out the window, cursing the blockhead in the driver's seat.

Every time I think there's a glimmer, he has to be a total numbskull and set us back.

I'm mad. I'm glad I'm angry, actually. Anger will keep me in a realistic place, and out of the clouds.

"I didn't mean . . ." Holden says as we turn onto the dirt road to his parents' house .

I stop him by holding up a hand. "I know what you meant, and you're right."

"I don't think I was," he mutters. "It came out wrong."

"Forget about it," I say. "I know my duty tonight. This is Abe's night, and I won't do anything to hurt him."

Holden parks and glances at me with sadness in the depths of his gaze. "I know that. I misspoke. I . . ."

Mason whispers something to Josi and they hop out of the truck, leaving me alone with their daddy, who I mostly want to kick at that moment. I watch the kids walk away and sigh.

"It's fine, Holden," I say. "Let's get through tonight."

"I, uh, signed us up for the pie eating contest next week." He surprises me by saying. He sounds unsure.

I purse my lips and look toward him. "What?"

"The, uh, pie eating contest. We're signed up."

It takes me a second to realize he's talking about the second item on the Buck-It List, and when it hits me, I scoff.

"Why would you do that?" I shake my head.

He blinks. "Because it's on the list. I thought we agreed to do the list."

Oblivious man.

"We did. And then you disappeared on me for two full weeks. Doesn't make me feel like this," I gesture between us, "is high on your priority list. I forgot we were doing that."

"Is that why you're angry?" His expression clears, as though he's finally landed on some answer that had been eluding him.

"I'm sorry. There was a damming issue, and then Landry got caught up helping his buddy Beau with some construction project and I had to pick up the slack with the boarded animals.

Walker pulled his back out with a new exercise he was trying and couldn't lift anything for two days, and Mama is on us boys about setting aside some land for wedding events. Things were insane."

I listen to his list of reasons he wasn't around and my chest grows heavy. They're all the same reasons I've heard a million times – or at least a variation on them. The wedding event thing is new to the list, but not news to me. Rae's been talking about hosting weddings for months now.

"I see," I respond, because what else is there to say, really?

I came last, again. Not one person on that list was named Lenora, Mason, or Josi.

I grab the door handle to leave and suddenly stop.

I turn to look at him and he's still watching me, and I remember that I'm ticked off.

"Actually, Holden, that's a lie." I fully face him.

"I don't see. I don't see how cattle and your brothers and your mom's hopes and dreams all come before me and your children.

" His expression shifts, hardens. It's an old argument, but I don't believe he's ever actually listened to it, and I'm the idiot who is trying again.

"Where am I on that list? Do you even want me to be on the list? "

His lips flatten and he runs a hand over his face. "Of course I do."

"Really?" Now I do pull the door handle.

"Then act like it." I get out of the truck and slam the door, then lean back to the open window.

"Prove it, Holden. Because right now, not one thing you do tells me that I'm even on your radar.

What's the point of having a husband who doesn't seem to actually want a wife? "

I stomp off, leaving him sitting in his truck, and by the time I round the corner to the backyard the party is really taking off.

I paint on a smile and join right in, laughing and talking with family and neighbors.

Holden eventually joins, and no one seems to notice that he's quiet and slightly withdrawn . . .

That's who he's become, and it makes me want to weep.