Page 42 of Wrangled and Tangled (Raven Peak Ranch #1)

H eath still isn’t back, and the press conference ended hours ago. He hasn’t texted or called, I’m starting to worry. I haven’t heard a lick from Briar either, and she knows to keep me updated when she’s at her friend’s house.

A truck I don’t recognize pulls up over the hill in my driveway, and I step out of the house. By now, I’m sober, and when I spot Heath stepping out of the truck, followed by Briar, swallowed in a quilt, my brain loses all rational function.

“Briar?” My voice is loud and commanding. “What’s wrong?”

She leans into Heath’s side as they walk toward the house. Her long hair hides her face, but I can tell from the way her shoulders shake that she’s crying.

“Flower, honey,” stepping in front of her, I fall to my knees so I can see her. “What’s goin’ on? Are you hurt?”

She only sobs in response. I look up at Heath, seeing his face carved in anger, and I’m a thin thread away from losing my cool.

“Let’s get inside,” he says, maneuvering her around me. “I’ll talk to you once she’s settled.”

His clear control of the situation puts another weight on my shoulders, my daughter’s leaning on him. I’m… jealous. Getting to my feet, I notice Eddie, the man from the rodeo, standing beside the truck, and I storm over his way. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms as I tower over him and nods to the door. When I look back, Heath’s standing there, hands in his pockets. “You can head back, Eddie.”

“You sure?” He says from behind me.

Heath’s small smile must be reassuring enough for him, because he steps up into the truck and starts the engine.

Walking up to Heath, I pass by him to get to my daughter, but he lays a hand on my chest. “I promised her I wouldn’t call you.”

What did he just say?

Without turning to face him, I growl, “You don’t get to make those promises, Heath,” I’m angry, too far rooted in my worries that he’s going to leave and break us both. “ I’m her father!”

“And I’m not negating that,” he says, pushing me toward the rocking chair by the door.

Once I’m seated, he lowers to one knee and cocks his head to the side.

“Briar called me after an incident at Clara’s, and before you fly off the handle, I need you to hear what she told me.

Then we can make a plan to speak to the other parents. ”

“We?” I ask with a scoff, “I thought you missed your team, Cowboy.”

He leans back sharply, with a look on his face that I can’t read. “What’s going on here, Spencer?”

“You tell me, Heath,” I respond, leaning down so I’m eye to eye with him.

With a humorless laugh, he drops his hand from my knee and stands. “I’m not sure what you think you know, but it’s clear you’ve got something to say.”

“The rodeo’s back, I heard what you said at the press release. You miss your team and the thrill of the ride,” I spit. “So what are you still doing here if you’re so eager to get back?”

He stares, incredulous, then looks away as if what I’ve said isn’t true.

As if I didn’t hear the words fall from his lips on national television.

“Should I not be? I’m only a cowboy, after all, right?

” He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek in frustration as he looks back at me, his eyes lining in silver. “Give me a reason to stay, Spencer.”

I’m shocked and still pissed off about Briar and whatever happened at Clara’s, so I ignore his question and ask one of my own. “Tell me what happened to my daughter .”

If he notices the inference, he doesn’t say anything as he sucks in a shaky breath, nods, and spills everything that happened with Clara and the party at her house.

I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t see straight, and hearing that Levi’s little brother was the main culprit, calling my daughter names, makes me see red.

I’m so far gone into my own hatred and anger that I don’t notice when Heath goes into the house, packs his bags, and slings them into his truck bed.

“Give me a reason, Spencer. Please.” He asks one more time, and when I don’t, he lowers his head, gets into his truck, and drives off.

My thoughts circle around Briar and how horrible her so-called ‘friends’ treated her.

Time passes by, and the sky turns to a deep orange. Walking into the house, I find Briar passed out on her bed, curled into a ball on her side, with Thelma draped over her neck. She’s wearing clothes that don’t fit, and her pillow’s stained with tears.

“I’m going to make this right,” I promise, placing a swift kiss on her cheek.

Closing her bedroom door, I dial Clara’s parents and have a terse conversation with them before calling Jarrett’s folks.

I understand they lost their son, and no matter how awful he was, he was still their child. So I temper my voice and speak as calmly as possible while I inform her of her youngest boy’s actions. His mother was appalled, apologized on his behalf, and assured me that he would be dealt with.

After that’s settled and I’ve climbed into bed, I finally realize what I’ve done. I pushed Heath away, and for what?

Pride?

Insecurity that Briar called him to help her and not me?

I should be grateful she had someone she trusted enough to go to. Instead, I got angry at him, and now he’s gone.

I didn't answer when he asked me to give him a reason to stay. I should have told him to stay because he belongs here. Because he’s family. Because… I love him.

It’s not long before my own tears start to fall as I clutch the pillow that smells like him. He’s gone, and all of his things that I’ve gotten used to being around are, too, and my heart feels like a punching bag that’s taken one too many hits today.

I miss him.

I should have stopped him.