Chapter 10

Jackson

Ash makes a few loops with Shorty, getting more comfortable and confident with each passing minute. Watching the way his legs shift, the way his fingers hold the reins and how his ass sways with the slow movement of the horse is a distraction. One I'm doing a poor job of ignoring.

It doesn't help that he's smiling wide, that infectious enthusiasm bursting from him like goddamn rays of light. I wonder if he's an angel. An angel sent to torment me.

You can have him , a little voice whispers. He's waiting for you to make a move.

I nearly groan.

"There you are," my mom says, effectively dousing me in cold water. I turn just as she reaches the edge of the field. "Here. These are for Ashley." She passes over a set of truck keys and a credit card. "Mind showing him where the vehicles are?"

"Sure," I mutter, pocketing the items.

Her gaze shifts over my shoulder, a smile on her face. "He's a natural, isn't he?"

I turn back around, watching as Ash guides Shorty to a stop at the far end of the field. He glances behind the horse before tugging the reins again. Shorty starts to back up, and Ash makes beeping sounds.

I snort a laugh, quickly covering it with a cough as my mom looks over at me.

"Ah," she says slowly.

"Nuh-uh," I counter, not liking that gleam in her eye. "Don't go getting any ideas."

"What ideas could I possibly have, Jackson Darling? Please, do enlighten me."

"You think you're so clever."

She chuckles, unperturbed. Looking at Ash, she says, "Almost like he was meant to be here. Funny, that."

My mom walks off, and I let loose a few choice words before refocusing on Ash. He and Shorty are walking over now.

"Was that your mom?" he asks, coming to a stop in front of me.

I reach up, giving Shorty's neck a pat. "It was. Ready to turn in?"

"Probably a good idea," he says. "I still have a few things to take care of before dinner. Thanks for the lesson, Jackson."

"Don't mention it," I murmur, giving Shorty's bridle a tug and leading the pair back toward the barn. "Next time, we can do a trail ride, if you want. It's a good way to get comfortable in the saddle. Nice and slow."

Ash hums. "Sure," he says, the word more suggestive than it has any right to be. "I can take it slow."

"Can you?" I find myself asking.

He chuckles, a throaty sound. "I can sure try."

I ignore the heat coursing through my body and pull the pair to a stop. "Down you go."

Ash lifts an eyebrow. "Just…down?"

I nod. "Down."

A little awkwardly, Ash holds the horn of the saddle and swings his leg over Shorty's back. His foot stays tangled in the stirrup on his way toward the ground, so I grab him before he can hit the dirt. My heart thumps wildly as Ash's back collides with my chest, my hand planted firmly on his stomach to hold him steady.

He turns his head to the side, eyes full of mirth as he meets my gaze. "Hi."

Clearing my throat, I shove him upright, not thinking about the way he smells or how he felt tucked up against me so damn perfectly.

Ash simply chuckles, brushing his hair back, that smile still on his face. "Well, I'd say I nailed the landing. What do you think?"

"We'll work on it," I mumble.

He snorts, turning to give Shorty a pat. "Thanks, Shorty. I'll probably be icing my ass later because of you, but I appreciate the ride."

Jesus .

"Here," I say, pulling the keys and card from my pocket. "My mom brought these for you."

"Perfect," Ash says, accepting both and twirling the keys around his finger.

"Gimme a minute, and I'll show you to the truck."

He nods, following me inside the barn as I get Shorty settled in his stall. It doesn't take long, considering the horse didn't work up enough of a sweat to need more than a quick brush. By the time I'm done stashing the riding gear, Ash is standing back near the doors of the barn. His arms are behind him, hands clasped together as if he's stretching.

"All right?" I ask, heading his way.

He nods, unclasping his hands and shaking out his arms. "Fine. You know, I used to work in an office."

"Yeah?" I say, not sure what precipitated the statement.

"Mm. I did public relations for this sports agency? Not important," he says, shaking his head. "I was just looking at this view and thinking how vastly different my life is right now from what it used to be. And I thought I liked it. Back then, I mean. I did like it well enough. I liked my job. My…partner."

My gut does something akin to a nosedive. "How long were you together?"

"Nearly three years," he says, squinting against the sunlight. "That's wild, right? Such a long time. How long were you with Otto?"

I chew the inside of my cheek before answering. "Almost two."

Ash nods, wincing slightly, like he gets it. I guess he does. "It was such a long time," he says again, sticking his hands in his back pockets. "A long time to lose myself."

"What d'you mean?"

He rocks on his heels, looking out toward the mountains. "Have you ever woken up one day and realized you weren't where you wanted to be?"

My heart starts to pound, but Ash doesn't wait for an answer before going on.

"I have. I woke up and realized I was lost. Just… lost . I'd lost myself in my relationship. In the easy, planned trajectory of my life. I'd gone down this path that was… fine . It was fine, but I wasn't excited to greet the sun each day. I wasn't excited about life , period. I don't know how it happened or when, exactly, but it's like… I woke up, and I knew. I had to get out."

My hands shake, so I hide them behind my back.

"I broke up with Nicholas," Ash says, tone almost flat. "Quit my job. I packed two bags, put the rest of my stuff in storage, and I came here."

"And…now?" I ask, grateful when my voice comes out even.

He lets out a sigh, his eyes closing for a second or two before he looks over at me. "Now I'm excited to greet the sun, Jack."

I don't know what to say to that. Don't know how to tell him I'm happy he found some joy in life. Don't know how to explain what it feels like to know he found that here . Don't know how to tell him I've heard this story before. That it didn't end well for me last time.

So I say nothing at all, and Ash looks back out toward the mountains. "Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say a little gruffly.

I lead Ash over to the lot near the milking barn where the company vehicles are parked. A few clouds come out on the way, blocking the sun. I do my best not to shiver.

"Try your keys," I tell him once we reach the short row of heavy-duty trucks.

Ash pulls them from his pocket, pressing a button, and the truck on the leftmost side lights up. "It's not a manual, is it?"

"Automatic," I assure him. "You can keep it parked up near the house for however long you're using it. No need to drive it all the way back here between trips."

He nods, popping open the driver's side door and peeking inside.

"Fill up gas on the card," I tell him. "Try not to hit anything."

He snorts. "Noted."

"Did you ever hear anything about your car?" I ask, realizing he hasn't mentioned it.

"Um, yeah," he says, smiling a little sadly. It's the first time I've seen his smile twist down that way, and I find myself not liking it. Not one bit. "I guess the cost of repairing Edna is more than she's worth, so Ratchet suggested I scrap her. I know it's the smart decision. I just…"

He trails off, and I cut in. "There's no rush. We've got the extra vehicles. Might as well make use of them."

His lips turn up the tiniest bit. "Thanks, Jackson."

I grunt. "Uh, Edna?"

His expression shifts to part fondness, part mischievousness. "Mhm. She was a good ol' girl. Pretty, too."

"Never took you for a cougar hunter."

Ash's mouth opens slowly. "Jackson Darling," he says, causing a jolt of something to hit my gut. "Two jokes in one day. You better watch out. I hear they'll revoke your grump card for that."

"My…" I shake my head and grunt. "Jesus. Get going already."

He laughs, hopping up into the truck. "See you at dinner?"

Nodding once, I step back.

He gives me a two-fingered salute and shuts the truck door. The engine rumbles to life a second later, but Ash doesn't pull out. He rolls down the window instead. "Hey, Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

He rests his arm on the open window frame, looking me square on. "I've had homes, but I've never felt at home . I know it doesn't make sense, but here? In this place? I feel at home. So I'm not running. I'm not going anywhere, okay? And I know there are no guarantees in life, but when it comes to this? I'd really like to find out what the two of us could be. Because I think it could be something. Something good. I hope you'll give us the chance to find out."

I nod stiffly, at a loss for words. This man isn't Otto. Whatever parallels they may share, Otto was never this transparent with me. He never left me knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, where he stood. Where we stood.

"This weekend, I'll have some free time," I say, my heart doing its best to beat right out of my chest. "Wanna go trail riding?"

Ash's smile is slow. Serene, almost. It's a lazy afternoon spent outside with nothing but the sun above and the dirt below.

It's scary how familiar that smile feels.

"Yeah, Jack," he answers. "I'd love nothing more."

"All right then."

He inhales a breath and lets it out. "For the record, you're wrong. You might just be the sweetest man I've ever met."

With that, Ash rolls up his window, backs out of his spot, and drives off down the dirt road, leaving me staring after him. I stare until the dust settles.

The rest of my afternoon passes in a blur of activity. It's not until nearly six o'clock that I realize I haven't seen my youngest brother all day. Remi is naturally quiet, always has been, but that's not the same as being absent .

He doesn't respond when I text, so I head to the main house, peeking into the dining room first. Dinner is laid out, and a few of the ranchers are seated already, as well as my dad, but no Remi. Ash gives me a smile when he sees me in the doorway, but I hold up a finger to let him know I'll be a minute. He nods, looking a little concerned by whatever he sees on my face.

Heading upstairs, I make my way to Remi's room. The door isn't shut, but I still knock once before easing it open the rest of the way. As I'd worried, Remi is lying in bed, the lights off and his drape drawn shut. Colton is with him, sitting against the wall, his hand soothing over Remi's back. There's a pillow in front of Remi's face.

"Migraine day?" I ask Colton, knowing Remi won't be wearing his processor right now.

Colton nods, frowning. "Bad one."

"Does he need a new ice pack?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," I say, easing back out of the room and heading downstairs. As I'm pulling an ice pack from the freezer, Ash walks into the kitchen.

"Hey, everything okay?" he asks, grabbing a pitcher of water from the counter.

"Remi has a migraine," I tell him.

He makes a sympathetic sound. "That happen often?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. Ever since he was a kid."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ash says, and I think if anyone could understand what it's like to deal with pain you can't always control, it's him. "Anything I can do?"

I'm about to shake my head when I reconsider. "Maybe biscuits tomorrow morning?"

He smiles gently. "Consider it done."

I give a quick nod of thanks and leave the kitchen. When I get back upstairs, neither of my brothers has moved. Remi doesn't even open his eyes as I gently pull the pillow away to switch out his ice pack. I wrap the new one in the same towel and set it against his forehead, but Remi lifts a hand to tap the back of his neck. I move it there before placing the pillow back over his eyes.

"Thanks," Remi says quietly, his voice muffled.

"How long have you been up here?" I ask Colton.

He shrugs, careful not to jostle Remi too much. "Couple hours?"

"I'll bring you some dinner."

His smile is appreciative but tired.

The dining room is buzzing when I get back downstairs. I grab a plate, loading it for my brother. My mom catches my eye from down the table and signs Remi's name, a question on her face. I give her a nod, and she touches her chest. She knows what it's like for him.

Deciding to eat upstairs with my brothers, I make up a second plate and head back to Remi's room. Colton thanks me when I hand him his dinner, and I sit down on the floor in front of the bed, not wanting to dirty my brother's sheets with my jeans. We're quiet as we eat. Remi shifts once, turning onto his other side. Colton moves the ice pack for him.

When there's a soft knock on the door, I expect to see my mother. Instead, it's Ash.

"Hey," he says quietly. "Can I come in?"

I give him a nod, and he steps inside the room, a small basket in his hands. He stops in front of me, crouching down and speaking quietly. "I'm not sure what your brother usually does for his migraines, but I made up some ginger tea in case it might help. It's in the thermos there to keep warm. There's also a bottle of water and a can of pop. You know, for the caffeine. Plus some chocolate because I swear it works miracles."

"Thanks," I say, my throat tight.

He nods once, handing the basket over. "The peanut butter cookies are for dessert. There's one for me, too, if I can have a seat?"

My swallow feels rough. "Sure."

Smiling, Ash sits down next to me, his knee settling against the outside of my leg. He plucks a cookie from the basket in my lap and takes a small bite, humming. I pick out my own before passing the basket back to a smirking Colton. He puckers his lips, and I flick his shin, ignoring his responding hiss.

As Ash and I eat our cookies, Colton rouses Remi as gently as he can, explaining what Ash broughtand asking if he wants anything. Our younger brother sits upright after a minute, leaning against the wall with his eyes mostly shut. He doesn't say a word about Ash's presence, only raises an eyebrow my way before accepting the ginger tea. He sips it with a gentle sigh.

The four of us sit in companionable silence for quite some time, long enough for Remi to lie back down and fall asleep. No one seems to be in a hurry to be anywhere else. And when Ash's hand finds a tentative, questioning home on my knee?

I don't make a single move to discourage him.