Page 4 of Someone to Hold

“You know your driveway’s a quarter mile, right?”

“I can walk on crutches.”

“I never said you couldn’t.”

If looks could kill, they’d be digging my grave right now. I know she has every reason to believe I’m a complete dick.

But I’m not. Not anymore.

“I’ll walk with you.” I try to make my tone placating. “We have stuff to talk about.”

For the record, I don’t typically do placating.

She doesn’t look impressed. In fact she looks irritated as fuck. “We don’t.”

“Hey, Luke,” I say as the boy returns fully clothed from the laundry room.

He stumbles back a little. “Ye-e-ss,” he stutters like I’m some child-eating clown who drags his victims to the sewer.

“Your mom told you to grab a jacket.”

“Don’t yell at me.”

I run a hand through my hat hair. “I wasn’t yelling.”

“It sounds like you’re yelling,” the girl says, her chin tipped up like she’s daring me to say more.

I glance over at Molly, who raises a brow. A brow that clearly says,Don’t yell at my kid, you stupid fucker.Message received.

“A jacket,” I repeat in a softer tone.

Luke’s eyes widen, but he moves to the kitchen and grabs a hoodie from a chair.

The girl grins at me. “Now you’re whisper-yelling.”

“I’ll work on it.”

“You won’t be here long enough to work on it,” Molly snaps.

She turns, the kids in tow, and limps toward the front door like a woman on a mission.

She might not be yelling, but her soft as steel voice gets themessage across loud and clear. And damn if it doesn’t make me want to follow her anyway.

2

CHASE

As we walkin tense silence down the driveway, I rack my brain to figure out how things went so sideways so fast. I don’t know who Molly expected to show up at the house this morning, but it sure as hell wasn’t me.

Linda told me her daughter-in-law knew I’d been recruited to take care of the kids and property, which clearly isn’t the case. And while we were both misled, I’ve got to find a way to convince a woman who hates my guts to let me help her in a role with which I have no experience, business, or desire to do.

But I want this property. I need it if I’m going to rebuild my life in Skylark, Colorado.

The price my former best friend’s mother agreed on for the sale is more than fair. It will allow me to buy the land. It’s the last piece of the puzzle I need and will even leave me with enough money to actually purchase the cattle to start my business.

A lot of retired bull riders get hired on at big cattle operations, but I never liked working for other people. I want something to call my own. One of the old-timers on the circuit used to say there’s nothing at the end of the road if you don’t own your own land. I took that to heart.

The kids skip ahead, smart enough to want to put distance between themselves and the anger radiating off their mother. This fiercely independent side is one I didn’t expect from a woman who initially struck me as the type to apologize for taking up space.