Page 17 of The Rogue (Four Corners Ranch #11)

of it, not able to see the details. It was covered over, made palatable. And that was how she had handled it all the way up

until now. That was his space. Just like the yarn store was hers. Like her grandmother’s home had become another space. His

wildness a thing of fierce beauty that she admired from afar, but didn’t question too deeply, or examine too closely.

Of course, she had been poking at it these last few days. But maybe that was part of trying to figure out why she had ended up here. Why she had ended up thwarted in spite of trying so damned hard. Being so careful. So responsible. But what had it gotten her?

“What made you decide to... I don’t know, to be you?”

“What?”

“I’m curious. Because I remember what made me decide to be careful. My mom told me one time that she got pregnant with me

by accident. Right after she met my dad. They had thought they were doing the right thing by getting married, but everything

had been a disaster since then. But they were stuck together because of me. The accidental pregnancy caused all of their unhappiness.”

“What? That’s some bullshit,” said Justice. “They made their choices. You didn’t. Babies don’t choose to be born.”

“I know. I’m not going to pretend that didn’t create some serious issues.” She huffed. “But honestly, my biggest takeaway

from that was you needed to be careful because there were some things you couldn’t take back. There were some decisions that

could change the course of your life. It’s why I waited so long to be in a relationship. I wanted to be sure that if I did

start dating somebody, that if I was, you know, physically intimate with somebody, I could either handle the consequences

on my own or they were someone I could stand to deal with. I just remember deciding to be careful. And I was wondering when

you decided not to be.”

“I’m careful, Rue. Don’t ever look at what I do and who I am and think it comes from a lack of care.”

Her stomach twisted. “That came out different than I meant it. I didn’t mean to imply that you were careless. But it feels

like you’re able to move through life with the degree of lightness that I just don’t have. You do things because they feel

good. And I don’t know how you ended up getting there.”

“I find it easier to get through life if I just don’t think that deeply. But the beginning of that comes from caring a hell

of a lot that I didn’t fuck somebody else’s life up the way that my dad fucked up all of ours. The beginning of it starts

with caring a hell of a lot. I don’t want to be the cause of somebody else’s pain and suffering. I treat everybody with dignity.

I treat them all how any person would want to be treated. Whether it’s a woman I’m taking to bed or a person I’m buying a

beer from. I don’t treat people like they’re disposable. But I also don’t get deeply involved in them. And there is a way

to do that. My life is my life. I like to control it. I like the set pieces to be fixed. Everything is permanent, everything

is where I want it. And that means I can go out, have a good time and come back and nothing’s changed. I decided a long time

ago that if I made it clear who I was and what I was about that I could have a pretty full life. I have King’s Crest, I have

my siblings, I have you. I can go out, hook up, come back, you’re all here.”

“You’re not selfish,” she said.

“I don’t know. It could be argued that—”

“No,” she said. “Anybody looking at you and itemizing what you do on a daily basis might be tempted to stereotype you as careless. I was just close to saying that myself when I absolutely didn’t mean it. They would be tempted to think so. But I think you’re actually just a whole different breed.”

“I didn’t decide to keep myself safe,” he said. “I decided I had to figure out how to keep others safe. I’m not like my old

man. I know that. I have never been quite that much of a narcissist. But I got a good look early on at how you can manipulate

other people and what it does to them. I never wanted that. If anything, I set out to prove that you can have a good time,

a pretty damned full life without fucking up other people. Work hard, be respectful where you need to be, be disrespectful

in a fun way when you’re naked, and don’t stir shit up.”

“Destroyer of worlds, are you?”

“I just don’t want to be characterized as sweet.”

“Why? God forbid somebody see you?”

“I don’t need anybody to see me.”

“Oh Justice.”

That was the most ridiculous lie he’d ever told. That he didn’t do things to protect himself. But all things considered, she

thought she might let him have the lie. Because why dig too deep into it today? Her life had been upended; she didn’t need

to go rearranging his.

It was okay to let the subject drop, she decided.

The scenery was stunning, and as they wound up the mountain the snow got thicker.

White and heavy on the dark green trees, blanketing everything in silence.

There was no sound other than the horses’ hooves on the ground, the swish and flick of their tales.

And every so often a bird would call to another, and fly from tree to tree, disrupting the snow and stillness as they went.

Rue and Justice didn’t speak. One of the most incredible things about having a friend like him. Sometimes you didn’t need

words. You could just be together and get something out of that. Comfort.

She tried to think if she had ever found Asher comfortable in a similar way. Talking, planning, those things had made her

feel bonded to him, but silence had never felt this easy. It was strange, because they had so much in common. She and Justice

didn’t on paper. Not that it was a comparable relationship. Not really.

She felt so much calmer now. More centered, and thank God. The last few days had felt so manic. Just an endless slog of discomfort.

She wanted to fix it when there simply were no quick fixes.

She kept hitting highs and lows. When she’d been googling simple, adventurous things she could do yesterday during her binder

building, she’d felt high. Dizzy and amped-up. Skydiving was a no, though she saw there were a lot of women who went through

divorces and went skydiving, and she loved that for them. Just not for her.

Mountain climbing was also a no—but that was when she’d decided on trail riding.

Bungee jumping—no.

Running—another one people often took up when life turned against them.

Big no.

That was when she’d somehow ended up reading about cold-water plunges, which had taken her to the phenomena of polar plunges—usually done in groups for charity, where people leaped boldly into freezing water.

It seemed daring, but not dangerous—in the right environment. And so she’d added it to the list.

In her mind, it had felt like she could maybe make some sort of peace with discomfort. Maybe.

Eventually she was going to have to leave King’s Crest and actually see people. Eventually she was going to have to figure

out what to do about her self-confidence, which had been shot full of holes.

But this was an okay place to start.

When they arrived at the clearing at the peak, she maneuvered her horse around and looked out at the view below. Stunned by

the glory of it. Justice dismounted and began to get into the pack that was resting on his horse’s haunches. He pulled out

blankets, and she realized for the first time that he had a big picnic basket.

“Well, that’s just perfect,” she said.

He chuckled. “Yeah. I tried to come prepared. The snow is a little deeper than I was thinking, but I do have a tarp to keep

you dry.”

He set everything out, right there in the snow, with the pine trees towering around them, and the view of the ranch stretching

out below. Green fields dotted with cows standing in stark contrast to the snow they’d found at this elevation.

It was so peaceful. So quiet. A new version of their barn from back in the day.

It was a brief feeling, more of an impression than wholly thought out words, but for a moment she felt like she’d never be

as happy as when they’d been kids in that barn. It was over quickly, and it left her startled.

They hadn’t been happy. They’d been kids surviving the best they knew how.

And yet for one moment she’d missed it. The simplicity of it.

The two of them against the world.

This almost felt the same. Almost.

“This is lovely,” she said, the words becoming all the more intense as he began unloading the picnic basket and revealing

the contents. Cheese and mushroom tart and puff pastry chicken galette. Not to mention cinnamon rolls that had been put in

a thermal container to keep them warm.

It was just so... so thoughtful in a way she couldn’t imagine anyone else ever being.

Her stomach went hollow, because it wasn’t them against the world right now. It was them, living in their very messy lives.

Well, her life was messy. His was what he’d made it, nothing more, nothing less.

She swallowed hard.

“Thank you. This is making up for the reception dinner I didn’t get to have.”

She opted to grab a cinnamon roll while it was still sticky and hot. Dessert first. Another thing that new Rue did, she decided.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

He surprised her by taking out a bottle of wine next.

“You don’t even like wine,” she said.

“But I knew that you would like it,” he responded.

He filled her glass halfway, and she noticed he didn’t take any.

“Are you the designated navigator?”

“Someone has to be, Ruby. You’re a loose cannon.”

They sat for a long while, eating, making light conversation. She asked him about the building happening at King’s Crest, and he told her how they had weddings lined up for the whole summer.

She wasn’t sure how she’d feel about seeing other people’s weddings.

Right now it seemed like it might be okay.

She lay back on the blanket and looked up at the gray sky. Feeling warm out there in the middle of the snow, and oddly cocooned.

It had always been like this with him.

She sat up when he moved, and he took a step away from the blanket and stood on the edge of the mountainside, looking down

at the view below. There was something about seeing him like that that made her heart cramp painfully. And she became aware

of how often lately her heart did things when she looked at Justice.

He turned his head to the side, and her eyes came to rest on his square, hard-cut jaw, the curve of his lips. His blue eyes.

He had been so damned handsome in his tuxedo, but out here, with that black cowboy hat on his head, his jacket on, beat-up

jeans that molded to his thighs, he was... him.

Not the man who went out to the bar and charmed women, but the man she knew.

The one that thought everything through, even his debauchery. The one who had to decide to keep things shallow, because deep

in his core he wasn’t that kind of man. He was loyal. He was true. In ways that people who didn’t really know him would never

fully understand. Then he turned to face her and it was like getting hit in the head with a rock.

He was so handsome. She knew that. She knew he was handsome. She would have to be a fool not to recognize that. But it hit her then different.

Because he was the kind of handsome that knew how to make women lose their minds. That knew how to make them set aside their

better judgment, trade it right away for a night in his bed, in his arms. She understood them. Right then, she understood.

She wanted to make that feeling go away. Wanted to make that revelation disappear. She didn’t want to look down at his hands

and notice that they were big and rough and strong. And then remember the times when he held her. Like on the night of the

bachelorette party when he had picked her up off the ground and those rough hands had made contact with her thigh. She’d dismissed

it then. She just hadn’t let herself linger on it. But for some reason now she was lingering.

His lips quirked upward into a smile, and she saw her friend again. But she couldn’t quite get that other image out of her

mind. Or the memory of his hands on her skin to fade.

“You ready to go?”

“Sure,” she said, feeling a little bit dizzy.

“Did it live up to your expectations?”

She had to swim through a murky sea of her own thoughts to try to figure out what he even meant by that. “Riding horses,”

she said.

“Yes.”

“Yeah. I... I love this.” Finally, she got her head back on track. “I really did. I loved everything about it. I loved

spending time with you. And I loved getting out on the ranch. It reminded me of better times.”

“Good,” he said, the corner of his mouth tipping up into a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”

It was like everything slowed down. Like she was back in the barn all those years ago, and here too.

And with that feeling came a pull toward him she wanted badly to ignore.

She nodded, feeling a little bit like she couldn’t breathe. She helped him pack up the things, and they got on the horses

and rode back down the hill.

She couldn’t go there. She had to put everything back in its own little box. Where it had always been. Because every time

something like this had bubbled to the surface she had been really good at putting it away. She wasn’t jealous of that girl

who had slept with him when they were in high school. She was just annoyed that she knew him in a way that Rue didn’t.

She wasn’t envious of pieces of his lifestyle because she wanted to live it with him; it was just a fascinating window into

a life she didn’t have.

That was all. That was all, that was all.

Her life was already in pieces.

She couldn’t afford to shake its very foundation.

Rebellion was one thing. But she refused to destroy the most important thing in her life.