Chapter Twenty-Six

Brayden

"Can you believe her?" Jordy says. It's the third time she's said it in the twenty minutes it takes me to drive her car from Nina's house to the ranch. And frankly, I can. Jordy had no right to touch any of Nina's things, and it's insanity that she doesn't understand what an intrusion this is.

It's right up there with picking a wedding date and venue without any input from the person you're supposedly marrying.

"Now you know why I can't stand her. She's always been a selfish bitch, and I can't believe I was lulled into actually believing she's a decent human being."

"What part, exactly, is selfish about her reaction?" I've been refraining from saying anything during Jordy's tirade, but I've had enough. "Was it the part where you sold off all her belongings? Or the part where you took away the things that mattered to her most?"

"Whose side are you on?" Jordy asks. "That house belonged to both of our grandmother. "

"But now it belongs to Nina. Don't you think you should have included her in any decisions regarding the house?"

"Brayden, you saw that place. It was a pit. She didn't change a thing. If Nanna Dot gave that house to me, the first thing I would have done was to hire an estate planner and get rid of all that old crap."

"But she didn't give it to you. She gave it to Nina."

"Yeah, but—"

"Not only that, but that house has been Nina's home for years before your grandmother died. Did you even consider the emotional ties she has to that place and the things in it?"

"That's beside the point."

"That's the whole point!"

We pull into the ranch, and I haven't even put the car into park before Jordy's door is open and she's leaping out. I stomp my foot on the brake and throw it into park before hauling myself out after her.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" I slam my door shut and stride over to where she is.

"That would probably solve all your problems, wouldn't it?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I ask. I'm fuming hot from her words, just knowing she's aware of how they'll hit. "You mean like my problems were solved when my sister was killed?" I ask. She flinches, but I'm not done. "How about when our child died. All my problems were solved then too?"

"It got me to marry you, didn't it?" She glares at me.

"Like I said," I mutter.

She looks closely at me, and I regret my words immediately. I see a flash of hurt cross her eyes, then it's gone.

"Jesus, Brayden, you were going five miles an hour. I wasn't going to die. "

"No, you're just being reckless because you don't like when I disagree with you. But Jordy, we're not always going to be on the same page."

"I know that," she huffs. "But this is my family, not yours."

I flex my hand, gritting my teeth against the statement, saying nothing. I made my choice—rather, the choice was made for me. Jordy has more of a claim over a relationship with Nina than I do, even though she still feels like mine.

"I'm not staying here tonight," Jordy says, snatching her keys from my hands. "I need time to think, and I can't do it here."

"Don't be stupid," I say. "The cabins are open for another night, and you're more than welcome to stay. I'll even leave you alone."

"It would be stupid to stay when no one even wants me here."

This is so typical Jordy. Going to extremes so I can beg her to stay. I always know what she's doing, and yet I fall into this trap every time. But not this time.

"Fine." I open the trunk and grab my suitcase. "Drive safe."

She makes a noise of surprise, but I am already walking toward the house. I hear her slam the door and then the gravel flying under the tires as she peels down the dirt road.

I take the steps two at a time, then burst through the door, flinging my suitcase against the wall. It leaves a scuff mark in its wake, one I know I'll be buffing out once I've cooled down.

"Brayden, what's gotten into you?"

My mother stands in the doorway, her hand on her hip as her eyes sweep over the damage.

"Sorry," I mutter. She shakes her head, then motions for me to follow her into the kitchen. All I want to do is go to my room and close the door—maybe punch a few things.

No, all I want to do is call Nina and see if she's okay. To tell her I'm sorry. To try to undo all the damage I've done to her heart.

I trail behind my mom instead .

"Sit," my mom orders, pointing at the bench seat like I'm five instead of thirty. I do as I'm told, and she places a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich in front of me.

"Thank you," I say. Food was the furthest thing from my mind, but now that I smell the buttery richness of the sandwich, my stomach growls eagerly. I dip a triangle in the creamy soup and take a bite. My eyes immediately close, and comfort envelopes me like a hug.

"Doug Murphy called this morning," my mom says, and I almost choke on the soup. Doug Murphy is the head of the convention, and while I can't be sure, he may have noticed my absence throughout the weekend.

"Oh yeah? Did he tell you how good the convention went?"

"I'm sure he did," she answers. "He talked to your dad, so I'm not really sure what he said. I'm sure you're aware of how proud he is of that convention, just like your father was when he was chair."

I nod, but my ears feel hot, especially with the hawkish way she's watching me.

"He figured you'd be taking on the chair role in the next year or so, you know, for the sake of tradition."

"I hadn't really thought of it," I lie. I'd always figured I would too—if I were staying in Sunset Bay.

"Which is why he was so disappointed you had to leave early with Nina."

I keep my eyes on my soup, no longer tasting it as I spoon it into my mouth.

"Where were you?"

"A buddy of mine needed ranch help," I say, not meeting her eyes. "I'd hoped to be back before the end, but it wasn't in the cards."

"Brayden. Look at me. "

What is it with moms? How do they master that tone that strikes fear in the bravest heart? When I'm seventy years old and she's in her nineties, she'll still get me to fess up just by using that tone.

I look at her.

"Tell me what happened."

The truth is in my throat. If I so much as cough, I'll spill everything. I shake my head at her. Her mouth sets in a firm line, and I see the disappointment on her face. It makes me want to crumble into ash and blow away.

"Your father wants to speak with you," she finally says. "I suggest you get your story straight before you see him." With that, she exits the room, leaving me alone at the table with my soup and enough shame to bury myself in.

Like I'm fucking five years old.

I toss the rest of the soup in the sink and feed my sandwich to Cherokee, who's been waiting for this moment all his life. Then I head for the study, knowing it's better to face the music now than to wait any longer.

My dad is sitting at his desk, making notes in the ledger. He's so old school it hurts. I have a program on the computer that can handle all our bookkeeping, and he still insists on writing it down by hand.

"Have a seat," he says, not even turning around. I take my place in the cool leather chair behind him and wait. My dad continues with the books, as if I'm not even there. The air in the room is thick with judgment.

What's the worst he's going to do, even if he knows the truth? Take the farm away? Fine. My fiancé will be thrilled with that one. Lecture me? I've survived quite a few of those. Believe that I'm worthless? Been there, felt that.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I got cold feet before I married your mom? "

Shit. He's going the moral of this story route.

"No," I say, fighting the urge to crawl out of my skin.

"Her name was Betty Sherman."

"Dad, please don't."

"No, you need to hear this. Betty was my high school flame before I met your mom. Everyone thought we'd end up together. But the summer before our senior year, she broke up with me for a college guy. That girl shattered me, and I was certain I'd never meet someone like her. I was right, because when I met your mom, she was very different from Betty and much better suited for me. I was so sure about your mom that I asked her to marry me before I graduated high school, and we planned our wedding for the following spring. But somewhere between fall and winter, I got scared. It was all too much, too fast, and I started second guessing the whole relationship. It didn't help that Betty and that guy broke up, and she started calling me on the side."

"Dad, I don't want to—"

"I'm not done. I finally agreed to meet Betty one night, and one thing led to another. I realized it was a mistake while it was happening, but I couldn't stop what was already in motion. I figured it would be a secret that would go with me to the grave, but people talk. Betty talked. The week wasn't even over before your mom was throwing her ring at me and calling the wedding off."

"You cheated on mom?" I ask. I did not want to know this. My dad nods.

"It was the worst mistake of my life, and your mom didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve me."

"So how did you convince her to take you back."

"A lot of groveling," he says. "I not only had to make it up to her, but also to her parents. You remember your grandfather, right? "

It's been years since Grandpa Cordy has been alive, but even at his frailest, his voice was strong and abrupt.

"Let's just say, I'm glad your grandfather is not the gun toting type, because he'd have shoved that barrel up my ass." He chuckles now, but I can also sense the deep remorse he has. "The point is, you're ruining a good thing all because you think you're not ready for this next step."

I take deep breath. He doesn't know me at all. Has he forgotten the role he played in this whole sham of an engagement? The promise I made him from his hospital bed, and then later when she lost the baby?

"I'm not scared to get married." I watch the floor, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm scared of marrying the wrong girl."

"What are you talking about? The two of you have been planning this wedding for five years now."

"No, Dad." This time, I do look at him. "We've been engaged for five years. There's been no planning." I scoff. "Well, until this weekend when Jordy decided to speed things along."

"I know," he says.

"You what?"

"She had us put the date on the calendar."

"And no one even thought to tell me about it?"

"She asked us to keep it secret. She wanted to surprise you."

"This is just rich." I get up from the chair and pace the floor before I plant my feet and face my dad. "My whole life has been planned for me, and I don't even get a say in it."

"This is the date of your wedding, not your whole life."

"It's absolutely been my whole life!" I repeat. "From taking on the ranch to asking Jordy to marry me, none of it was my decision."

"If you don't want this ranch, I can find someone else that would be more than happy to take your place."

"I want the ranch, Dad, but I never got the choice. With Jordy, I fulfilled whatever obligation you said I had to fill. Why, because I got her pregnant?"

Then the math hits me. The reason my dad was so insistent that we get married.

My parents weren't married in spring like he said they'd planned, but in winter—and I was born eight months later.

It suddenly makes all the sense in the world.

"Was Mom pregnant with me when you two got married?"

My dad looks out the window, and my mouth drops.

"You only married her because she was pregnant. Otherwise, you'd probably still be with Betty."

"I would not be with Betty. I loved your mother. But you're right, the wedding would have been called off if your mom wasn't already pregnant, all because I made a mistake."

"Fuck me." I run my hands through my hair. My whole life feels like a lie. I realize just how orchestrated my life has been, and how obviously spineless I've been to not make my own decision. How my mom probably didn't even love my dad when they got married, not after what he did to her. She's had to live with this decision her whole life, and if that's not bad enough, now he expects me to do the same.

I pick up his damn ledger and throw it across the room. Papers scatter through the air like leaves in the wind, twirling in their descent while I breathe fire.

"Control yourself, Son."

"Why, so you can tell me how you stepped up and were a man by forcing mom to marry you, so I should too? News flash, Dad, I'm not you. I should have never agreed to marry someone I wasn't in love with."

I slam through the door before he can say anything else, almost running into my mom on the other side. For a moment, I stand frozen, realizing she's heard every word we said. I feel terrible that this is the way she finds out her marriage is based on obligation rather than love. But I can't burden myself with this, so I push past her, but not before she grasps my arm in an effort to make me stop. It would take nothing to brush her off and keep going, but this is my mom, and I'm not going to do that to her.

"Let me go," I say.

"No. Come back in the office and have a talk with us."

I look at her, and I see the conviction in her eyes, the sheer strength of her—and I fold.

She leads the way, and I take my place on the leather couch while she perches herself on my dad's desk, ignoring the papers all over the ground. Her hand rests on his shoulder, and I want to pull her away from him, to protect her from his lies.

"I love your father very much," she says, "and he loves me."

"But—"

"He loves me," she repeats, firmer this time. "Yes, it's true that when we got married, it was not the ideal situation." She shakes her head. "Rather, it grew into the ideal situation. But on that day, it wasn't what we thought it would be. I was still upset that he'd gone back to Betty. He was still battling unresolved feelings from that relationship and if we were doing the right thing. We weren't sure we loved each other enough to get married. But there were greater forces at work, and we knew for the sake of you, we had to at least try."

"You don't owe me anything," I mutter.

"No, we don't. If our marriage was based solely on you, it never would have worked. But we grew to love each other. Your dad is my best friend, the person I can go to about anything. I trust him with my life."

"And I trust her with mine," my father says. "Together, we've made this beautiful life, and it's all because we chose to make it work. "

"But I'm not you," I point out. "I never should have listened to you. Did you know that Jordy and I barely knew each other when we got engaged? We weren't even boyfriend and girlfriend. We'd only been messing around when you got in the accident and I had to move home. We'd agreed to end things before I found out she was pregnant."

"And your father talked you into marrying her," my mom confirms, looking down on my dad with new understanding. "Oh Pete, really?"

"It's the right thing to do," my father grunts. "Especially now."

"Why, because she can no longer have kids?" My mom shakes her head. "Pete, the only reason two people should get married is because they're in love."

"But look at us." My dad tilts his head up at her. "We never would have discovered how good we are together if we hadn't gotten married."

"Not everyone is us," my mom points out. She waves her hand in my direction. "You should have never told Brayden to marry Jordy."

My mind is reeling from all of this. Five years of pretending, hoping my heart would catch up only to realize it likely never will. I look at my parents and realize I will never have this with Jordy. Even now, knowing what they went through in the beginning, I can see how deeply they care for each other. I think of the home I was raised in, the love that surrounded me and my sisters as we grew up, and how tight we all became after Amber was gone.

I think of the separate lives Jordy and I lead now, and how I just can't imagine either of us molding into the other's dreams. We don't fit, and one of us will lose if we keep trying.

Then there's Nina. I don't know where things will lead for us, I don't even know if she'll speak to me again. All I know is that in all the time I've known her, it's been the closest to forever I've ever felt. This weekend sealed those feelings, but it's my time with her that has helped me know what it's like to fall in love with your best friend.

"I can't stay with Jordy," I whisper.

"Is it because you're in love with Nina?"

I dart my eyes to my mother's, and she rolls her eyes. "Come on, anyone can see the way you two are with each other. I just wish you hadn't acted on that while you were still involved with someone else."

"Did someone tell you?"

She and my father exchange a glance.

"We're not dumb, Son," my father says. "As soon as Doug Murphy said the two of you had left for the weekend, we knew exactly what you were up to."

"I've never loved Jordy. At least, not the way she deserves. But meeting Nina made me realize I can't keep up this charade." I hang my head. "I've really made a mess of things," I say. "I should have let Jordy go ages ago. She never deserved any of this."

"No, she didn't," my mom agrees.

I get up then and look at my parents. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you two stuck it out."

My mom looks at my dad and smiles, "We are, too."