Page 16 of The Rogue (Four Corners Ranch #11)

Rue met Justice at the barn, as bundled up as she thought she could be while still managing to maneuver herself onto a horse.

“You look a bit...”

She frowned. “What?”

“Like a blueberry.”

She was indeed in blue snow gear that made her look a bit spherical.

“That’s rude.”

“It is a little bit rude, I admit it. But also it’s funny. And true.”

“Okay,” she said. “I think I can get myself up on the horse.”

“Let’s see it,” he said, crossing his arms and regarding her far too closely.

She’d had... a weird day yesterday. But she felt a lot more balanced now that she had gotten her plans down. She had been

grateful for the space to cry and be ridiculous. But that had set her off on this spiral of an idea that she hadn’t actually

been in love with Asher. Maybe Justice was right. Maybe it was just that seeing him like that had knocked her so decisively

out of love she was never going to be able to access the feelings she might’ve had once upon a time.

Maybe.

But she was a little bit worried that what it amounted to was that she had a huge blind spot. She had convinced herself that

falling in love with an idea was the same as loving a person.

It unnerved her. She considered herself to be pretty self-aware. It was the antidote to her parents and all of their drama.

Because what they did, they did blindly. Wildly. Without taking into account the feelings or needs of others. And so she had

tried to never be like that. But... that she could have gotten that close to marrying somebody without really being sure

what love meant was astonishing.

She wasn’t going to marinate in it right now, though. Because she wasn’t marrying the guy. And she had time to put things

back together. To put them in perspective. That, she supposed, was the gift. The gift of all of this. It was like being given

a second chance. So here she was, about to get on the horse.

“I got a picnic basket from the Sullivans,” he said, hefting himself easily up onto his mount. A gorgeous paint with a persnickety

personality. Her own was a black, docile steed, and she was grateful for that, because she didn’t have the experience for

persnickety.

“Well, that is cheering,” she said, managing to get herself hoisted up onto the horse. It had been several years since she

had done this.

But it felt like a step in a new direction.

She could do this. She could go riding sometimes.

Maybe she would lease some ranchland. Or board a horse with the Kings.

Of course, she didn’t really need to do that because they had a surplus of horses.

But maybe she would start riding sometimes.

She would get outside in nature. She would do more than just sit and knit in front of murder mysteries on TV for a hobby.

But she did like that. She was trying to imagine different lives. That was the whole goal right now.

That last one scared her a little bit. She had been lying to Justice when she said it had to be led by Jack Daniel’s. She

hadn’t told him the truth. What she wanted to do was go out and find some guy to show her exactly what crazy, betrayal-making

sex was all about. She had been with one man. And that man had been part of stunting the growth of her sexuality. Part of,

because she couldn’t blame him entirely. She had to own up to that herself.

It had been one of the things she just hadn’t thought that much about. But she had not wanted to say that to Justice, because

he would get all weird. Because he...

Her brain sort of tripped over itself and she stopped thinking about it. Because she was with Justice. Not that he could read

her mind, but she didn’t need any weirdness. And he would get so overprotective. He would just... He would lose it.

He had been snarly enough when Asher had come into her life.

Hadn’t trusted him, hadn’t been happy when she had moved in with him.

It was funny, because she truly considered them the kind of friends where their relationship transcended the fact that he was a man and she was a woman.

But they did not talk about their sex lives, and when they did, it immediately got uncomfortable.

At least for her. She didn’t think much of anything made Justice uncomfortable. Nice for him.

But that was when she became especially aware that her best friend was a man. An attractive man. And that was where the thought

process stopped. Which was okay with her.

“So where are we going?” she asked, desperate to get to a part of thinking that didn’t involve Asher. She needed to move on.

“You’ll see. Just follow my lead.”

She didn’t have a choice, because he wasn’t giving her real directions. Fine.

She had always thought Four Corners Ranch was the most beautiful place in the world. And being out here like this on the back

of a horse with the heavy gray clouds looming over them, fat with the promise of snow, and the crisp bite in the air promising

the same, she felt it renewed her in her bones. And she knew a moment of relief. She was looking for a new direction, but

there were parts of herself she didn’t want to lose. Not ever. The part of her that loved this place. The part of her that

got solace from spending time with Justice.

For some reason she was thrown back into the memory of when they had first come here when she was a child. She had been so

afraid at first. Of everything. The wide-open spaces, the horses. It was just so different than the dry, arid landscape she

was used to, different than the big apartment complex with the fenced-in pool that had graffiti spray-painted onto the cement

beside it.

Trying to sleep at night had been so difficult. Because usually the sound of traffic and sirens joined the sound of her parents fighting and helped minimize it. And at Four Corners everything was so quiet. Crickets and coyotes were the only noise.

She simply hadn’t known what she thought of it in the beginning. But she’d also accepted it, because she was a child who was

used to being dragged around at the whims of her parents. It was her reality.

And gradually it had become her salvation. The best thing that had ever happened to her.

It had given her a sense of family she hadn’t had before. Trauma bonding.

She frowned as her horse meandered behind Justice’s. He had said that about Asher and the woman he hooked up with on deployment.

It sounded like it would be a decent enough description for what they had.

She looked at his back, tall and straight, his shoulders broad. That familiar cowboy hat fixed on his head. Justice was inextricably

linked to the land. He was part of it. As sure as the mountains, as sure as the pine trees that rose up to meet the sky. The

dirt that was on his boots at the end of the day was also in his blood. She liked that about him. Always had. He had taught

her that you could plant your own tree rather than relying on the concept of a family tree to provide connection.

There was a lot of blood, sweat and regret poured into the ground here.

So many dysfunctional families, and yet the children had all stayed to make something better.

Because the roots were their own, and there was something deep there that Rue found touching.

Comforting. Something that resonated. She would be all right.

Because whatever changes she made, her roots were here.

And that wouldn’t change. She just needed to mix it up a little bit.

She had meant for this to be an entirely new sort of endeavor, but the funny thing was, it had actually reminded her a fair amount about the past. Before Asher.

Before life had fully formed her. And maybe it was a good reminder simply because when she had moved here as a child she had changed.

She was still fundamentally herself, but it had brought her new, wonderful things.

Maybe this all would too.

Or maybe the fresh air had just infected her with unrealistic optimism that would ultimately leave her feeling singed. But

she would take the good mood as it came.

The trail began to wind upward, the hard ground suddenly frosted, and up ahead, covered in snow.

“Oh,” she said.

“That’s why I chose this. I figured you might like a winter wonderland.”

“That was a good guess.”

It touched her, how thoughtful he was about things like this. About her.

Justice was her safe space. A fundamental truth that also hadn’t changed as time went on.

She was grateful. So very grateful.

“This reminds me of sneaking out,” she said. “Running over to King’s Crest through the fields in the evening so that I could

get some peace and quiet.”

“What a bummer you had to come to our place to get that,” he said.

“You were all there,” she said. “And that gave me what I was looking for. You took care of me. I just remember the way that

we carved out a place of our own.”

And as the years had gone on, they had carved out some different spaces. When they were kids and they had taken refuge it was always in the old barn. They would bring snacks, and sit on a blanket. Turn the lantern on and talk. Avoid their parents. Avoid anything that felt difficult.

Then Justice had carved out a space at the bar. In one-night stands and casual hookups.

She could remember the first time she realized he was doing that.

Having sex .

She had caught him sneaking back from one of the ranchhand cabins and had figured out he was sleeping with an older girl whose

dad worked on the ranch.

She hadn’t said anything to him. She’d felt scalded by it, though. And weirdly jealous. She’d been fifteen; he’d been sixteen.

She hadn’t wanted to have sex. Not with him or anyone. But it had been threatening to her that there was another woman who knew

something about him that she didn’t.

She had ultimately decided to let that escapade be his and his alone. At a certain point, she’d just had to not think about

it. Or rather, she put wallpaper over it. It was so apparent that the wall was there, but she wasn’t able to see the texture