Page 5 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

Leni

My resolve to let Holden share the news of our separation with his family fizzles out the next day when his mom calls me to the homestead to help with room cleaning after guests checked out.

It's laughable that I thought I could hold my tongue.

For the first few years of my marriage I'd had to woo Holden's mother into accepting that I was here to stay and I'd put in the work to love her son.

RaeAnn Crawford is a strong, no-nonsense rancher's wife, and a mother to three strong sons.

It took some time for her to relax and show me her warm side – mostly because her practicality had no room for two nineteen-year-olds and their raging love for each other.

(To be clear, she never would have used the word raging.

That was our own description. Very dramatic.)

Being fully accepted as Rae's daughter at around the same time my own parents moved away, meant I had latched on to her.

Over time I developed a habit of word vomiting all my thoughts and feelings to the one stable mother figure in my life.

Which is exactly why I blurt it out while holding the other side of a queen-size fitted sheet in the Blue Room .

One minute the sheet is up in the air between us, sky blue and lavender scented, and the next it's flat against the bed as we tuck the corners over the mattress and I'm saying, "Holden moved out. I asked for a separation."

Rae finishes tucking the corners on her side and looks up at me with her piercing brown eyes.

The room is warm in the June heat, with the sun shining into the big picture window and no breeze coming through.

I'm already baking from the work of changing bedding and vacuuming, and giving new life to a bathroom that was abused, plus the heat from carrying a secret that's a burning coal in my chest.

She puts fisted hands on her hips and tilts her head a little, her long toffee-colored braid falling over her shoulder.

She's thin in the way of women who work hard, and in her fifties she shows no sign of softening or slowing – even her hair hasn't dared to go fully gray yet, containing only a few strings that seem a little scared to take over. I grimace as she sniffs lightly.

"I know I didn't hear you say what you just said." She shifts, crossing her tan arms over her typical button-down denim shirt. "Baby, you two fought too hard to be together to let it all go now."

A lump rises in my throat and I lick my lips, pulling in a breath through my nose that smells like window cleaner and pine furniture polish. The homestead is quiet around us, with the men out working and my kids home having a flop day with me away.

"It takes two to keep it going," I reply with more confidence than I feel under her scrutiny.

Nerves crawl up my spine at the look on her face. Rae is usually patient with me, but in this situation she's looking at me like I'm a child who needs a good reality check .

"I shouldn't need to remind you that ranch life has little room for romance in it.

Holden works hard and carries a lot on his shoulders.

You need to be strong enough to be alone and not take it personally.

" She sighs and softens her stance at whatever expression she reads on my face.

"We talked about all of this before you two got married.

I thought you understood what it would mean for you to join this family. "

We did. It was a conversation she thought was necessary since I'd been raised as a "city girl" – a fact that is hysterical considering that " city" was Pinehaven, population five thousand, and that I went to school with her boys.

I've considered myself a country girl all the way, but because I didn't grow up on a working ranch, I was seen as more citified than the Crawfords.

Rae had doubts and I still haven't forgotten the chat we had.

Besides, even if at that point I didn't fully understand what a ranch requires of a person, I've lived here for thirteen years now.

I've watched the family work day in and day out.

This isn't me being a whiny, delicate woman. There's something different, broken, with Holden and me.

I pick up the freshly washed top sheet and toss it in the air. Rae catches her side and together we smooth it down, buying me time to formulate my thoughts.

"The thing is, it's different with us," I start . . .

Rae interrupts. "Every couple thinks they're different."

I clear my throat. "Maybe. But the thing is, Abe still loves you."

Rae finishes tucking her corner military-tight and then she's looking at me again in that assessing way that washes away any attempts at what she calls "baloney". I know she wants to roll her eyes, but she refrains and I'm grateful.

"You're wrong if you think Holden no longer loves you, Lenora. "

My full name again. Sigh. I shake my head and grab the hand-quilted blanket that makes this the Blue Room.

It's a pieced quilt that Rae made when her boys were little and quilting was the only thing that gave her some peace and quiet on a working ranch.

The squares are all different shades of blue in an intricate pattern that makes me sad she uses it for the B&B guests.

I can't bear to think of it getting ruined – and based on the bathroom I just resurrected, it may not survive for long.

"Actions speak louder than words, and he doesn't act like he does," I respond, but the waffle in my tone makes it sound pretty whiny even to my own ears, which makes me angry.

I'm strong and independent, and those words don't fully represent the depth of my loneliness and hurt.

Rae opens her mouth and I jump in. "I know how that sounds.

And if I didn't think he still had some feelings for me I'd probably be doing more than a separation, but you can't pretend you haven't noticed that he's always here.

Haven't you wondered why he's never at his own house?

" Rae closes her mouth and pinches her lips with a nod.

I continue, "Yes, you're married to a rancher, but Abe always makes time for you.

In the busy times, he invites you along, and I see you two sneak off for picnics or at the very least sit on the porch together in the evenings.

Holden doesn't even try anymore. He's a ghost. His side of the bed is usually empty when I'm awake, and if the pillow didn't have a dent in it in the mornings, I'd wonder if he actually sleeps there. "

Rae works her lower lip between her teeth as she picks up the decorative pillows and gets them settled on the bed against the ancient headboard someone handmade a generation ago, while I pick up the extra blanket and fold it perfectly along the footboard.

"I miss him," I whisper, tears clogging my throat as the words come out. I look up to meet her eyes, and they're sympathetic at last. "I've been patient, and understanding, but I'm hurting, and I need more from the most important relationship in my life."

Rae comes around the bed and pulls me into arms that are stronger than they appear. She's taller than me, and she puts a hand on the back of my head like I really am her baby as she nudges my head against her shoulder.

"You know I have to be loyal to my boys, but you're my girl, Leni.

It hurts to see you two struggling, but I understand what you're saying.

Maybe what that man needs is a shock to his system, and I'm sure this separation will do it.

" She squeezes once more, nearly lifting the breath from my lungs, and lets go, keeping her hands on my shoulders. "What can I do?"

Now the tears do fall and I offer her a quivering smile. "Make him suffer by not cooking dinner for him?"

She laughs, a sound low and gravely and delightfully sinister. "I can do that. Where is he staying?"

"In the camper on our property."

Her expression grows mischievous. "You're a smart girl. A little hardship might be good for him."

I sigh and my gaze moves out the window.

This room overlooks the side yard, and from here I can see the big barn and all the activity going on there.

Walker breezes past, his long blond hair waving behind him, and disappears into the barn.

Not far behind him is Holden. The tense way he's holding his shoulders tells me Walker just delivered some bad news.

Empathy born of habit settles in my chest and I have a sudden urge to go to him and ask what's happening, but I shove it down.

That line of thought will only wound. He won't tell me, and I'll be left feeling more alone than I was before .

Rae claps her hands like she always does when a room is ready. "Should we move on to the Green Room?"

I hurry to face her again and nod. "You have two rooms booked this weekend?" I ask.

She hustles out of the room carrying the bucket of cleaners and rags, and I follow, grabbing the mop and bucket as I do.

"Yes. But I'm still planning to have a tea party with Josi on Saturday afternoon," she tosses over her shoulder.

Rae started having tea parties with Josi once a month, and it's my favorite thing.

Josi is so introverted, and this has been a wonderful way to get her talking and hopefully help her build confidence around social settings.

Initially Josi was pretty quiet, but now Rae says all she has to do is pour a cup of peppermint tea and Josi starts spilling her guts.

I'm grateful on so many levels. I would have loved this type of time with my own grandmother.

We make quick work of the Green Room and then I'm off, out the front door and to my car before I notice Holden has come out of the barn. He calls my name and I look his way at the same time I'm unlocking my door.