Page 14 of The Forever Cowboy (Noble Ranch #1)

Violet’s gaze kept straying to Sterling even though she was trying hard not to let it.

From her spot at the table with her half-finished supper in front of her, she was also having a difficult time eating the meal Hyacinth had prepared—canned beans and pork with canned peaches.

Sterling had already finished, pushed back from the table, and had resumed his whittling. He was positioned so that she had a good view of his profile—his muscular shoulder, angular jaw, and his hard mouth.

With his knife in hand, he shaved away at the wood in front of him, methodically and patiently, the curling woodchips falling to the floor at his boots.

Hyacinth had risen and was washing the dishes as best she could with the warm water on the stove. Her back was stiff, and every time she turned around, she glared at Sterling as if she wished the floorboards would open up and swallow him.

Violet had already scolded Hyacinth several times over the course of the long day about being nicer to Sterling. After all, if not for his coming after them, they would have been in a deadly predicament.

As it was, they’d slept as well as could be the previous night and had awoken to a warm cabin, the stove burning steadily with the fuel Sterling had added all throughout the night.

It was obvious he’d rested very little, if at all, and at one point during the morning, Violet had encouraged him to get some sleep.

He’d finally flopped down on the opposite bunk bed without bothering to shed his boots and slumbered for a few hours.

After waking up, he’d gone out to gather more wood, and in the process, he’d found some large pieces that he was now crafting into a sled.

He hadn’t needed to tell her why. She already knew he intended to use it to pull her back to the ranch, which would likely be the only way she’d be able to travel.

The few times she’d hobbled around on her sprained ankle, the pain had been too intense to stand for long. Sterling had indicated that her foot could take a few weeks to heal enough for her to walk on it. If that was the case, it would be much longer before she could manage to ski.

Sterling had explained that with the fresh layer of a foot or more of snow, even skiing would be challenging.

She guessed he could ski on it back to the ranch, that he was seasoned and experienced enough to do so.

But he said he wanted to wait for some of it to melt before venturing out, probably so that he could pull the sled easier and also so that Hyacinth could manage her skis.

Whatever the case, Violet had resigned herself to a few days in the cabin with Sterling along with his silence and coldness.

He’d surprised her earlier in the morning by listening without judgment to her explanation of her father’s gambling problem.

In fact, he hadn’t thought less of her and had instead been angry at her father.

For whatever reason, that conversation had seemed to ease some of the tension between them so that they’d been able to talk a little more freely about how the past months had been for each of them and their families.

He’d caught her up on where everyone in his family was—most of them out east, except that Jameson, one of his favorite brothers, had left home and they didn’t know where he’d gone.

Their talking hadn’t been as natural and easy as during the days when they’d been courting, but it had reminded her of how much she’d liked conversing with him.

She sensed he’d called a truce between them—at least while they were at the cabin. And she was willing to take whatever peace he was offering.

Unfortunately, Hyacinth didn’t have the same mindset.

Violet pushed her plate back. “I’ve eaten all that I can.”

Hyacinth shifted and took in the food still on Violet’s plate. “No, you need to finish.”

“You can have it. Or Sterling can.” She knew for a fact that Sterling hadn’t eaten his fill. He’d counted the cans earlier and taken inventory of what they had. She had no doubt he was rationing everything just in case they had to stay at the cabin longer.

Hyacinth fisted both hands on her hips. “You’ve hardly eaten all day, Vi.”

“I agree,” Sterling said without pausing in his repetitive whittling.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Hyacinth’s voice dripped with venom. “So I would appreciate you not adding it.”

Sterling’s back stiffened, and his knife on the wood came to an abrupt halt.

“Hyacinth,” Violet scolded. “You’re being rude.”

She sniffed. “I don’t care.”

Sterling finally lifted his head and looked directly at Hyacinth. “Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Whatever is bothering you.”

With her green eyes flashing, Hyacinth pressed her lips together. She was loyal almost to a fault with the people she loved, and she’d somehow twisted the failed wedding around to make it Sterling’s fault, blaming him for all that had happened.

“Hyacinth, please don’t.” Violet didn’t want her sister dragging out the old hurts.

“Tell me, Hyacinth.” Sterling’s tone turned hard, as did his gaze. “What did I do to earn your contempt?”

Violet shook her head at her sister, silently pleading with her to let the matter drop.

Hyacinth sighed, then turned back around to the pot of soapy water on the stovetop.

Sterling didn’t resume his whittling. Instead, he stood and propped the piece of wood against the cabin wall.

In the next instant, Hyacinth spun back around, her fingers dripping and her eyes blazing. “You’re a selfish coward, Sterling.”

He froze.

Violet grew motionless too. With the silence hanging thickly in the air, Violet had to say something. She shifted to face Sterling. “Hyacinth doesn’t mean it—”

“I do mean it, Vi. You know how I feel. Sterling only thought of himself with the wedding and didn’t consider your needs at all.”

Violet’s chest tightened. “Please, Hyacinth. Don’t.” She didn’t want to lose the ground she’d made with Sterling—even as small as it was. Hyacinth spewing her feelings would not only cause a loss of ground; it would also erect a mountain between them.

Hyacinth, though, was focused on Sterling, had locked angry gazes with him. They were like two elk about to charge at each other. “What I don’t understand, Sterling, is if you loved my sister the way you claimed, then why did you let her go without fighting for her?”

“I rode into town and tried to talk to Violet.” Sterling’s voice was calm but icy. “I even wrote to her. But she refused to see me or respond to my letters.”

Hyacinth huffed. “A visit and letters? You call that fighting for her?”

“ She ran away from our wedding. She said she didn’t love me. She tossed me out of her life.” Each statement was like a gunshot.

Violet hung her head. This was exactly what she hadn’t wanted—for Sterling to hate her again.

“ She was confused! If you’d really loved her, you would have been patient and understanding and tried to figure out what went wrong.” Hyacinth’s passionate declaration rang out in the cabin, echoing off the walls.

Violet waited tensely for Sterling to yell back, but this time he didn’t say anything.

“If you’d really loved her,” Hyacinth continued, “you wouldn’t have let her leave Colorado and then never contacted her again. If you’d really loved her, you wouldn’t have been able to live without her, and you would have gone after her.”

Violet could feel her cheeks burning and the agony twisting in her stomach. Hyacinth’s tirade wasn’t new to her. She’d heard her sister’s frustration before. However, it was one thing to rant about Sterling in private and another to throw all the accusations in his face.

The pressure inside Violet pulsed up into her chest, urging her to get up and run outside and escape the embarrassment. She pushed back from the table, the need to flee only growing stronger with every passing second.

Before she could stand, Sterling muttered under his breath. Then he stalked across the room, swiped his coat from a peg on the wall, and without bothering to put it on, he swung the door wide and stepped outside.

As the door banged closed behind him, Violet lowered her head into her hands.

For long seconds, Violet could think of nothing but the fact that she’d lost Sterling again. The minuscule progress she’d made was gone.

That wasn’t why she’d gone to him, was it? Because subconsciously she’d wanted to gain him back?

“I’m sorry, Vi.” Hyacinth plopped down onto the end of the bench. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Oh, Hyacinth. You shouldn’t have—”

“Yes, I do know.” Hyacinth slapped the table. “I’m just tired of him acting all hurt and angry at you. He needs to come off his high horse and stop treating you like you’re the problem.”

“But I am the problem.”

“No!” Hyacinth reached over and grasped both of her hands. “You’ve always loved Sterling, and you still do.”

“I don’t know.”

“Isn’t that why we came back to Colorado?”

Was it? Violet hadn’t thought so, but maybe, deep in her heart, she had wanted to see Sterling again and discover if he really did love her as much as he’d once claimed. “I’ve always been confused about my feelings toward Sterling. You know that.”

“Maybe you’re just afraid of Sterling ending up like our father.”

Violet paused. Was her sister right? “In what way?”

“Father says he loves us but doesn’t show it. When it comes down to it, he loves himself more than anyone.”

Violet nodded. She hadn’t thought about her father that way before, but Hyacinth’s insights were true.

Father had always lived the way he wanted regardless of the consequences for their family.

Every place they’d moved to, he’d promised Mother he would do better, that he would keep his job, that he would stay away from the gaming tables.

Yet at every new place, he’d eventually ended up gambling again, stealing from his employer to pay his debt, getting fired, and then needing Mother to come to his rescue before they moved, and the cycle started all over again.

Mother had paid off Father’s debts so often over the years that she’d used up her sizable inheritance getting him out of trouble, leaving them with too little in the end.

Was that why Father had married Mother to begin with? Because he’d known she would take care of him?

Violet wanted to think he’d loved Mother to some degree, the same way she wanted to believe he loved her and Hyacinth. But what if he’d never really been able to love anyone but himself?

Hyacinth squeezed Violet’s hands. “Maybe you just need to know Sterling is different from Father. Maybe then you’ll finally be able to give yourself permission to love him with your whole heart instead of holding back.”

Violet lifted her head and met her sister’s gaze. “But is Sterling different? Is any man?”

Hyacinth’s eyes were filled with sadness. “I hope so, Vi. I really hope so. But I don’t know.”