Page 51 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

“You could start with the truth,” Austin says, frowning, holding up a piece of paper.

Well, that stops me in my tracks. Writing a letter to Cass and Mack makes sense. Girls do that sort of shit, right? But Austin?

“What does it say?” Cass asks. I give up on saying I don’t want to hear it—no one’s listening, anyhow—and just make for the door, but Nash blocks my path.

“Sit your ass down,” he says. “Least you can do is hear her out.”

“These letters are for you, not me.”

“Just listen,” Nash replies, crossing his arms over his chest. We’re pretty evenly matched in terms of size, but it’s been a long time since I’ve fought any of my brothers and I don’t have the taste for it today, anyway.

So, I stand there as Austin starts to read:

Dear Austin,

I don’t know if you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me, that night you asked me to join your family for dinner.

I know it doesn’t seem like much, but you clearly saw how worried I was about the cougar, and Cole being out there.

You made me feel safe, and you made me feel welcome. I think it was a turning point for me.

I’m sure Cole won’t tell you, because he’ll want to respect my privacy, but my marriage wasn’t happy. When I left New York, I was running away from a lot of things, and the way you all welcomed me has healed a part of me that I thought would always be broken.

Your passion for wine is incredible. I love how much you know about it.

I’d really like it if you’d let me ship my late husband’s wine collection to you.

I was going to auction it off, but I have a feeling there’s no one who’d appreciate it more than you.

Please send me a text if that’s okay, and I’ll arrange delivery.

Take care of yourself, and thanks again for everything.

Beth.

I grind my teeth, trying to untangle how I feel about that. The thought of anything that bastard owned making its way into my home makes my temper spike. At the same time, what was his is now Beth’s, and she’s right—no one will appreciate the wine more than Austin.

“What was she running from?” Austin asks.

One by one, like fucking dominos, they’re turning on me. My hackles are rising, my control slipping.

“That’s private.”

Austin’s jaw clenches and a muscle ticks low down to the side of his mouth.

We all wait in total silence while Caleb retrieves the other letters.

Nash goes first.

Nash—

Your passion for music and family have made me so happy. Thanks to you, I have heard some of the most beautiful songs, and been exposed to sounds I would never have stumbled across.

Be gentle with Mackenzie. She looks up to you all so much, and you especially, I think.

I can’t wait to see what she achieves, with you by her side.

Beth.

I clear my throat, pretty much done with this now. But it doesn’t matter how I’m feeling. Nash is still blocking my path, and Caleb starts reading:

Caleb,

We didn’t spend much time together, which is funny, because I feel like I know you almost better than the any of the others. You are so like Cole. Both so strong-willed, moral, decent and kind. I’m so glad he has a friend like you. He shouldn’t be alone, the way he is.

Beth.

I glance at Caleb then look away again, because his eyes probe mine with something that makes my gut sink.

Shame.

He’s ashamed of me.

He thinks I’ve done the wrong thing.

“Any more?” Cassidy murmurs, her wine glass finished.

Caleb nods. “There’s one to Beau.”

“We should leave that for him,” I say.

“Yeah, because we’ve all been reading them privately,” Cass says with a roll of her eyes, taking the letter from Caleb.

She opens it, despite what I said.

Beau,

I can’t believe I’ve missed saying goodbye to you. I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone like you before. You made me laugh when I doubted I ever would. You are one of life’s natural charmers, but deeper than that, you have a heart of pure gold.

I know you get frustrated by how your family is with the whole bull riding thing.

I get it. You want to pursue your passion, like everyone has a right to.

But that video is awful. You almost died.

Anyone who loves you would find that impossible to go through again.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t be back on the circuit, but I hope you can see that every time you get on a bull, you’re sending your family to hell and back.

It's because they love you, though, and you’re so lucky to have that.

Not everyone does. In fact, most people probably don’t.

You Donovans are something pretty special.

Anyway, I know you’re just going to do whatever you want, so please, be safe, take care, and hurry up and get this out of your system so you can come back and charm the pants off Ash Callahan.

Thanks again for being such a good friend.

Love, Beth.

Jesus Christ. I haven’t cried since my mom died. Even with dad, I somehow held my shit together for my family, because I had to. But that was fucking heart-breaking. I imagine Beth writing it and want to sweep her into my arms and kiss those words away.

“Okay, we done?” I ask roughly, turning back to the stove, and grabbing a knife, to start slicing.

“Not quite,” Caleb says, clearing his throat.

I turn around, frowning. Who’s left?

“There’s one for you,” he says, holding out a piece of paper.

Everyone—me included—looks at it like it’s a steed on the edge of a cliff; one wrong move and it’ll tip.

No, I look at it like it might blow up in his fingers.

“I see.”

“You gonna take it?”

Only the fact that if I don’t take it, Cass might instead, and start reading it aloud, has me reaching across for the neatly folded piece of paper. One glance at the front shows Beth’s neat handwriting, with my name carefully printed.

“Well?” Austin lifts one dark brow. They’re all looking at me, but I shake my head, stuffing the thing in my pocket.

“Later,” I say, voice deep. “Let’s eat.”

“For cryin’ out loud, Cole…” Austin groans, but I shoot him a look, and he doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Later,” I repeat. When I’m alone, because I sure as shit I can’t do this in front of them.

I start to slice the roast, but Beth is inside of me, twisting and spinning, and staring at me with those icy blue eyes, those perfect lips.

All the parts of Beth that I’ve come to know—the way she was when she first arrived, the way she became with me, how she was when she talked about her marriage.

I put the knife down on the bench and turn to Caleb.

“Take over for me?” I mutter, then move toward the door.

I hear Cassidy exclaim, “Halle-fucking-lujah,” as I leave.

On the porch, I pull the letter from my pocket and lean my elbows against the railing, taking a second to breathe in the fragrant air, to listen to the call of the night birds, to look up at the stars that have spent so long looking down at us, and then, slowly, almost like I’m afraid, I unfold Beth’s letter and begin to read.

Cole –

I am so angry at you right now, I can hardly even write.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that even the worst anger fades with time.

So, one day, I’m going to look back on being here with you and remember only the good bits.

All the ways you helped me and made me whole, and how wonderful and magic it’s been to spend time with you. To fall in love with you.

I can’t work out when I started to feel this way, but I do know you’ve breathed yourself into my heart and soul, and will always be there.

I’m not telling you this because I want to change your mind. I’ve learned that, too. You can’t make someone love you more, love you differently. It’s not worth trying.

If anything, I’m telling you because I want to be sure you don’t carry around a heap of guilt because you don’t love me back.

I know you well enough to understand that your whole reason for being is to help people; to make their lives better, and I get that that’s what you were trying to do with me.

You were putting me back together again, and you were so clear that you couldn’t give me more than these few months of your time.

It’s my fault I fell in love, not yours.

Even though it hurts like hell right now, I’ll be okay. Believe me, I’ve gotten through worse.

If there was one thing I could say to you, that I would really want you to hear, it’s that you need to get out of your own way a little bit.

Lean on people more. Don’t be afraid of failure.

You don’t have to be perfect, all the time.

You don’t always have to be the guy with the answers; sometimes you can ask for help.

You have an amazing family, and if you turned to them, they’d pull together to save this place that means so much to you all.

For the same reason, if you were ever to ask me for help, I’d give it.

I owe you. No matter what else this was, at a time when I needed so much, you just knew, instinctively, how to give it. I’ll be forever grateful.

Take care, Cole. I really hope that one day you get everything you want and deserve.

Thanks for everything,

Beth.