Chapter 7

7

Mason

Well, shit.

I’d spent all night and most of the day thinking about Chloe and how easily she’d fit into our home. As much as I tried to deny it, the whole evening was like a damn dream. And now I was here at work, wide awake, and unable to focus on a single goddamn thing without Chloe’s sweet smile appearing in my consciousness.

I pushed open the door to Gray’s office, a gust of that familiar hay-scented air swirling around me. He was hunched over his desk like some sort of paperwork hermit, mountains of documents spread out before him.

“Gray?” I started, leaning against the door frame, “Thought you’d sworn off this desk-jockey business for at least a week.”

He looked up, a half-grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes crinkling in that way they did when he was being nice—which wasn’t that often. “Yeah, well,” he said, straightening up and stretching his back with an audible pop. “Figured you could use a break, Mase. You’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”

“Appreciated.” I chuckled, though the weight on my shoulders refused to budge. “But you know me, never could sit still for long.”

“Speaking of restless,” Gray shifted the topic, running a hand through his short brown hair, “Eryn mentioned you got a new tenant in your guest house. Chloe, right? How’s she settling in?”

A nod was all I managed at first. “She’s . . . quiet, keeps to herself mostly.” The mention of Chloe sent a ripple of curiosity through me but I tamped it down. “Eryn’s taken a shine to her, seems like.”

“Good, good.” He nodded, scribbling something on a piece of paper before looking up again. “Eryn’s been worried ‘bout her. She’s become a big fan of rescuin’ strays, I s’pose.”

I laughed thinking about how well Eryn had settled in here. She’d gone from LA to Montana in a lick of a hound’s tail but fit right in the moment she decided to stay.

“Certainly seems like a stray,” I replied noncommittally thinking about Chloe’s hesitance to reveal too much. There was something about the way she seemed to carry a whole world of stories behind those blue eyes of hers. Not that I was diving into that mystery any time soon.

Gray nodded as he picked through his paperwork. “So long as she’s good people, I didn’t care much ‘bout backgrounds.”

Leaning against the doorframe, I scratched the back of my neck, weighing my words. “She’s nice,” I found myself saying. “But she’s got walls up. Tall ones.”

“Ah.” Gray leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he considered that. “Not the open book type, huh?”

“Far from it.” I chuckled, but it was short-lived. “And I’m fine with that. Keeping things professional suits me just right.”

“Professional, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow at me. “You do realize this is Whittier Falls. We’re about as professional as a barn dance in flip-flops.”

“Exactly why I’m not lookin’ to step on any toes,” I retorted, half-smiling despite myself.

Gray smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Maybe you should ask her out, Mason. You know, welcome her to town properly.”

“Ask her—?” The idea rolled around in my head like loose change. “Nope. Not in the cards, Gray.”

“Come on, Mase.” His smirk widened. “It’s been ages since you’ve taken anyone out. And the horses you bring to pasture don’t count.”

“Ha.” I shook my head. “You’re hilarious. But I’ve got more on my plate than worrying about . . . dating.”

“Sure, sure.” He waved a hand, the tease not quite leaving his voice. “Just a thought. I know you got a lot goin’ on, but maybe a nice distraction would do you good.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “I’ll keep that nugget of wisdom in mind.”

“Better do that.” Gray nodded.

I let out a low chuckle, the sound more like a scoff as I raked a hand through my hair. The very thought of dating seemed like a foreign concept these days, a luxury I couldn’t afford.

“Gray, I barely have time to shave most mornings,” I told him, leaning back against the edge of his cluttered desk. “Between the spreadsheets and the goddamn never-ending fence mending, not to mention Abby’s school and activities and her newfound obsession with piano lessons—dating is just not in the cards.”

“Seems to me like you’re always doing for others.” Gray leaned back further in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He locked those blue eyes on me, serious now. “What about you, Mason? Your happiness counts too, you know.”

“Abby is my happiness,” I said without hesitation, feeling that familiar swell of love for my little girl. “And this ranch—it’s part of me.”

“Sure, but—“ He started, then stopped, giving me a long look. “There’s room for more, ain’t there?”

“More?” My laugh came out as a huff as my mind raced through the daily schedule that left little room for anything else.

“Look, I’m not saying go out and find the next Mrs. Bridges tomorrow,” he said, standing up and clapping a hand on my shoulder. “But there’s nothing wrong with letting someone make you smile once in a while. Besides Abby, I mean.”

“Smile, huh?” I quirked an eyebrow, considering the notion. Sure, it’d be nice, but when would I even?—

“Think about it,” Gray insists, his voice dropping to that brotherly tone that tells me he’s serious. “Life’s short, Mase. And I know mine got a hell of a lot better when Eryn came into the picture.”

“Alright, alright,” I concede, if only to ease the concern in his gaze. I knew it was true how much Gray’s life had changed since he met his wife. I’d never seen the man so damn happy. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Satisfied, he dropped back into his seat. “Now get outta here before I put you to work filing all these papers.”

“Escape while I can, got it.” I pushed off from the desk, a half-grin pulling at my mouth.

“Go on. Save yourself.”

I headed for the door, Gray’s words echoing in my head. More room for happiness, huh? Maybe so, but right now, my world was plenty full. Abby’s laughter, the wide Montana sky . . . I reckoned that was enough for any man. Or at least, it should be .

As I reached for the doorknob, a jarring ringtone cuts through the quiet office. My hand halted mid-air, and I fished my phone out from my back pocket.

“Excuse me,” I mumbled, glancing at Gray before thumbing the answer button. “Mason Bridges.”

“Mr. Bridges?” The voice is familiar, edged with restrained urgency—it belonged to Miss Parker, Abigail’s first-grade teacher.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, already feeling the weight of that ‘something’s not right’ sensation in my gut.

“Abby’s fine,” she started, but there’s a ‘but’ coming—I could hear it clear as day.

“Go on,” I prompted, leaning against the solid wood of the doorframe.

“Nobody’s come to pick her up from school.” Miss Parker’s words hit like a punch to the chest. “She’s the last one here.”

“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath, casting an apologetic glance toward Gray. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bridges. We’ll wait by the front entrance.”

“Alright.” I ended the call, shoving the phone back into my pocket a little harder than necessary.

“Trouble?” Gray asked, his eyes narrowing with concern.

“Abby’s stranded at school.” My voice is terse, clipped with frustration. “I need to go get her.”

“Of course,” Gray said without missing a beat. “Bring her back here if you need to.”

“Mrs. Henderson never misses a pickup,” I said out loud, more to myself than Gray who was now standing at the window watching me with concern etched into his rugged features. “What could’ve happened?”

“Maybe something came up.”

“Abby’s out there thinking nobody’s coming for her.” The panic that hit wasn’t just about the logistics of being in two places at once; it was the sharp sting of not being there when my little girl needed me. “She hates being last.”

“Go get her, Mase. She’ll understand.”

“Right.” I was already moving before the word fully formed, urgency lighting a fire under my boots.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Gray called after me.

“Thanks, man.” My steps quickened as I strode down the hall. Abby alone at school—that shouldn’t have happened. But now, it’s all about fixing the mistake and making sure she knows Daddy’s always gonna be there.

“Hey,” Gray calls after me. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

I didn’t have time to respond, already mentally calculating the fastest route to her school. Abby was waiting, and nothing else mattered.

As I reached my truck, I tried to shake off the feeling of guilt gnawing at my insides. Mrs. Henderson’s been reliable since day one—never even late. Something had gone wrong. I punched the ignition, the engine roaring to life, harmonizing with the rush of thoughts in my head.

“Should’ve double-checked. Should’ve set a reminder.” Self-reproach was a bitter companion as I gunned the engine and tore out of the ranch’s main drive.

Holding it all together was proving to be more difficult than I’d imagined.