Page 76 of Love Wells Kept

God help me, I hope knowing that doesn’t trigger anything for him. I can’t possibly be expected to hold all three of them as they fall apart. Not when I’m struggling to keep it together myself.

His chin juts toward the farthest stall, voice lowered. “In here?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, then to Odessa, “Take a deep breath, baby. It’s all going to be okay.”

Metal clangs together as he opens the door to the empty stall. The blood has long since been cleaned, so there’s no sign that anything bad ever happened here. After no more than a few seconds of standing in the empty space, Jackson comes back and kneels on the cement floor in front of me. And rather than falling apart himself, he wraps his arms around me and the kids, holding on to us as we do.

Jackson

The late morning sun casts long shadows across the ground, glinting off the metal fence rails and drying the dewy grass. Though it’s been over two months, and Kate no longer needs to dote on me all day, I haven’t been cleared to do much of anything, and Denny’s wife is my nurse practitioner, so I don’t dare risk it. Thankfully my brothers are willing to let me tag along when I’ve overstayed my welcome with the women in the kitchen.

The overturned bucket Denny offered me isn’t the most comfortable place I’ve ever sat, but it feels so good to be outside, in the fresh air, watching the boys work, I’ll put up with some mild discomfort for the time being.

From the back of his horse, Colt tosses his rope with casual precision, looping it perfectly around the cow’s head and cinching. “Damn, somebody sign me up for the Calgary Stampede this summer.”

Denny chuckles. “He ropes one heifer—which was barely moving, I’d like to add—and suddenly thinks he’s a pro. You gonna actually sort them like you’re supposed to, or just keep roping them for the hell of it?”

My younger brother’s leaning against the gate, waiting for Colt and his dog to sort the right heifers and cut them from the herd. He’s got one hand on the gate lever, ready to usher them into the chute. But mostly he’s hanging around with his hat pulled low, free hand shoved in the front pocket of his dirty jeans.

“Speak for yourself.” Colt loosens off the rope, setting the heifer free. “You could help me instead of standing around looking like a Carhartt model.”

Denny pops a hip. “Sorry, all I heard was that I look like a model right now.”

From my perch, I laugh quietly.

They move together without thinking, years of shared work turning what seems like it should be chaos—sorting a handful of cows from an entire herd—into choreographed routine. There’s comfort in the rhythm of watching them work, or maybe it’s comfort in knowing ranch life goes on even when my part in it is momentarily paused.

Perhaps one day I’ll be able to stand out here long enough to work a gate for the guys. But the idea that one day I’ll be able to move cattle while on horseback feels unattainable, and the thought of what my future role on this ranch might be—rather, the lack of any role I could fit into—sits heavily on my chest.

“You doing okay?” Denny calls over to me.

I shake off the inadequacy niggling at me, knowing I can’t do anything about it yet anyway.

“Yeah. Watching you guys is better than the reality TV shows I’d watch in the hospital sometimes.”

“Just wanted to make sure Colt wasn’t giving you as bad of a headache as he’s giving me,” Denny replies.

Colt lazily swings his rope around. “When my girlfriend, Whit, has headaches, she rubs peppermint oil on her temples.”

I chuckle. “I’d need to dunk my entire head in peppermint oil.”

“Well, my girlfriend buys pretty big bottles of it. We could probably set that up.”

“You know you don’t need to constantly refer to her as your girlfriend,” Red says, riding up alongside Denny and motioning at his metal water bottle sitting on the ground, silently asking him to hand it over. “We all know who Whit is.”

“Jackson doesn’t,” Colt replies.

After a long chug of water, Red swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “He might not remember meeting her, but he could use context clues to figure it out.”

Red picks a black heifer from the herd, expertly separating it, and alongside Colt’s dog, they move it down the chute. Denny kicks the dirt, hopping onto the metal gate and riding it until it’s shut. The lever locks with a reverberating bang.

“Colt’s just excited to have a girlfriend. Poor guy spent all of his twenties thinking he never would,” Denny says. “Let him have this one.”

Colt’s horse sidesteps, inadvertently helping Red, and when Red thanks him, Colt pats himself on the shoulder. “Well, that’s enough productivity for today.”

Red snorts. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m charming.” Colt grins. “And moderately helpful.”