Page 10 of My Match with the Cowboy (Sterling Brothers Ranch #4)

NINE

CALDER

I find Imogen showered and dressed in day old scrubs when I return with a tray of breakfast Ma put together. She’d left a note with a message from the Sheriff, telling me Imogen needs to call him about the break in, but I’ve pocketed it for now.

I pause in the doorway of the bedroom, taking in the dark look in her eyes. Something’s changed from last night, but I don’t know what it is.

Kicking the door shut, I set the tray down on the desk and cross my arms. “What’s wrong?”

Her dark eyes meet mine. Pressing her lips together, she shakes her head. “I can’t do this, Calder.”

I take a step towards her, heart pounding. “Do what?” I thought we’d had a breakthrough last night. A moment that could change everything.

I hadn’t lied when I said I wanted to take care of her. Hell, I want to do a whole lot more than just take care of her.

I know what I want now, more than anything. And it’s her.

Imogen rises from the edge of the bed with a sigh. “I can’t play games.” She runs a hand through her hair, eyes pleading with me to understand. “Not when everything I’ve worked for—everything I’ve built for myself—is on the line.”

But I don’t understand. I don’t know what she means, not when there’s a chance that this—whatever we have between us—could be great.

“Imogen—”

“I appreciate everything you have done for me. And last night was…” She drops my stare, cheeks flushing. “Last night made me realise I have too much to lose,” she whispers, shaking her head as she lifts her eyes to mine. “Please. I can’t handle being left again.”

My stomach bottoms out. I open my mouth to explain to her that I don’t plan on leaving her. That I want a chance to prove myself to her. But before I can even respond, she continues.

“Could you maybe give me the keys to your truck so I can get my bag? I need to call work, and the sheriff, and probably a locksmith about getting those changed.” The exhaustion from yesterday is back full force, playing in her eyes, straining her features. “Please.”

Despite the need to step in and do it all for her, I take a step back. “I’ll get it,” I say, motioning to the tray on the desk. “Eat something. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

By the look on her face, I can tell she doesn’t like that. But I turn away before she can stop me.

The house is quiet, giving me too much space with my own thoughts. Had I totally misread last night? Was I wrong with how I felt?

Shaking my head, I leave the house and walk to my truck. Waiting for me is Casper, his arms crossed. I can tell he’s pissed I no-showed last night and this morning. Somehow, it’s worse because our eldest brother is with him.

Foster has his hands in his pockets, cowboy hat covering his hair, wearing a look I can’t read. “You good?” he asks, nodding to the truck.

I release a heavy breath and push past them to the passenger side door. Within are the leftovers I didn’t take inside and Imogen’s purse. I grab both bags, prepared to toss the now gross leftovers into the trash can by the side of the house.

“What’s your problem, man?” Casper snaps, stepping in my way. “What the hell happened with the nurse?”

I clench my jaw, gaze darting to the house. Like I expect her to be in the doorway, waiting for me.

But she’s not.

After a moment, I sigh and look back at my brothers. “I took her home last night and someone had broken in while we were at dinner,” I explain, leaning against the hood of the truck. “I didn’t think she should be left alone, so I brought her back here.”

Casper’s eyes narrow; man is a stickler for rules, just like Foster.

But the latter can’t talk—he rescued his future wife from the side of the road.

And Casper has been hung up on the only woman he’s ever loved because he made a choice he can’t take back.

So, I don’t think either have the right to comment on my situation.

“What’s the deal with her?” Foster asks. “What’s going on?”

I shrug, but it’s Casper who answers. “Iris is playing her usual games, and he’s falling for it.

” My twin turns to our older brother, totally ignoring me.

“He accepted some demand from Iris the other day. Something about planning her funeral. And he’s being forced to do it with her new nurse.

That’s who’s hiding in his old bedroom.”

Foster nods slowly, like he understands. But neither of them do. “Don’t judge me,” I warn, glaring at both of them. “There is nothing else going on, she’s made sure of that.”

I realise too late that I sound bitter and hurt.

Casper turns to me, concern flashing across his eyes. “Cal?—”

I push past them. “Don’t.”

“If you want to fight for her,” Foster calls out, “then fight for her. Show her that you actually mean every word. Don’t just make empty promises.”

His words follow me into the house, ringing in my ears. I know I’m not ready to give up on her—on us. Foster might be right, but I don’t think Imogen is going to let me back in that easily.

The drive to her house is quiet, the truck filled with so much tension, I don’t know how to break it.

Imogen sits silently on her phone, placing orders for locks and home security—two things I wish I could handle for her. The offer to run down to the hardware store and pick those things up for her and do it all myself hangs on the tip of my tongue.

When I pull into her driveway, I release a breath.

I look at her from the corner of my eye as she sits back, her gaze locked on the front door.

She doesn’t make a move to get out of the truck.

She doesn’t even unfasten her seatbelt. She remains locked in place, staring at her cabin like she doesn’t even recognise it.

That makes my frustration disappear. I kill the engine, unbuckle myself, and say, “I’ll go check it out. Make sure everything is still locked up.”

Imogen’s throat bobs as she swallows. “You don’t?—”

“Yes, I do.” I get out of the truck without another word, leaving her where I know she’s safe.

There’s tape on the front door that I cut with my key.

I step into the house like last night to find it exactly as we’d left it.

Papers all over the floor, files left scattered on different surfaces, the tear in her sofa still in plain view, and the broken picture frame on the floor.

The back door is closed now, the screen taped shut, and from here it looks like it hasn’t been tampered with.

From what the sheriff told me last night, he thinks someone found out a nurse moved in, and thought they could score. Didn’t matter that she works with the elderly and barely administers drugs—wouldn’t even have them in her home.

I check the house quietly, taking in the single bedroom with the broken window, her bed a mess of clothes I doubt she made, her tiny bathroom which had been ransacked by the intruder. The birth control pills she takes had been emptied into the sink, which makes my stomach drop.

The kitchen is exactly as we left it last night, and the tape on the back door hasn’t been touched. Looks like whoever broke in didn’t bother coming back.

I make my way out of the cabin and walk up to the truck. Imogen jumps out as soon as she sees me, grabbing her bag. “Is everything still…?”

I nod. “Broken window in your bedroom. That always been there?” I ask, crossing my arms as I stop in front of her.

Imogen pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah,” she says after a moment, hesitantly. “It was broken when I moved in. I never got a chance to get it fixed.”

I nod once, though anger rises within me. That urge to protect her, to do whatever it takes to keep her safe, hits me like a tidal wave again, and it takes everything within me not to take over.

“I get it, I should have been more careful.” She rolls her eyes. “But with work?—”

“I wasn’t going to say shit,” I reply. She gives me a surprised look, which makes guilt immediately rise within me.

“I’m sorry, trouble. I just…” I scrub a hand down my face.

“I can’t pretend I’m not fucking terrified about leaving you here alone.

That I’m not afraid that if I leave, something worse will happen. ”

“Calder.” Her voice is flat, so I can already tell where this is going next.

What she wants to say.

I can’t do this , she’ll tell me. I can’t be with you .

“Don’t.” I take a step towards her, closing the distance between us. “I know what you want to say, but I hate to break it to you, trouble. I’m not a good listener. Never have been, and I ain’t planning on starting now.”

Imogen inhales sharply, her eyes widening. “We can’t.”

“Yeah, we can.” Another step has me almost flush against her. It brings back memories of last night, of sinking into her until there was nothing left between us. “We can do whatever we damn well please, Imogen.”

She shakes her head, fear darkening her eyes. “And what about when you realise you’re done with me?”

I stop, stomach twisting. “That can’t be it,” I murmur. “You can’t seriously think that I could ever be done with you.”

“I don’t know you well enough to trust you, Calder. That’s the problem!” She tries to take a step back, but I meet it with one of my own, backing her into the side of the truck. She sucks in a breath, eyes widening.

“And yet I already know everything I need to.” I lean in, breathing in her sweet perfume, taking in the way her eyes darken, her cheeks flushing pink. “I knew the moment I kissed you I was done. That everything I needed was with you.”

“You pulled away. You?—”

I shake my head. “I pulled away because I knew if I continued, I would have had you there in the truck. Then again on the flatbed. In my shower. In the barn. I would have made you mine in all the ways I could.” I don’t know if it’s her racing heart beat I hear, or my own.

It doesn’t seem to matter anymore. “I knew that if I continued, I would scare you away. But I don’t want to run from this. ”

Imogen lifts her chin, our lips suddenly a breath apart. “Run from what?”

I swallow hard. “You.” I place my hand against her racing heart. “Us.”

My girl shudders and closes her eyes. “I’ve been left before,” she whispers. “I don’t have anything left to give. Won’t have anything left if you realise you want more.”

“What more could I ever want?” I ask, lowering my face. “I’ve never felt more alive than with you.”

Her eyes remain closed as she releases a shaky breath. “That isn’t enough, though, is it?”

Heart pounding, I make the only offer I have left. “Then marry me. Let me show you in the most obvious way that I’m not going anywhere. Marry me and become my wife.”