*They walked a block down Main Street—the noise from Grey’s fading. This was an impossible situation.
She loved Beck.
She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
But she was going to have to. At least until she created a life that didn’t revolve around him and wanting him to marry her.
I need to define myself, not be defined by Beck or marriage or children.
She took a deep breath, promptly chickened out and tilted back her head to look at the star-spangled sky.
“I always forget how beautiful the night skies are in Montana.”
So many of the places they traveled were cities. She’d grown up in a city. She was tired of the noise and the traffic and the buzz—the never-ending feeling of go-go-go. More. More. More.
“My favorite place to be.” His voice rang with conviction.
“And yet you rarely are,” she said softly, not meaning it as a criticism but the truth. She’d learned to love Montana with Beck and had always imagined settling down here. Raising their children on the ranch with his granddad, his cousins and their wives and families.
“It never seems like enough time when I’m here,” he said.
“Because you don’t make it.”
His sigh was audible, but Ashni was not feeling forgiving. She’d given him an opening—he could have said Montana was his favorite place to be with her. But he hadn’t taken it.
She wanted to kick herself. Why was she still trying?
Force of habit. Habits could be broken.
Ash started walking again.
“Where are we headed?” he asked, and she choked on a laugh that was anything but amused. That was the million-dollar question. Physically, the end of Bramble Lane. Life direction? Love direction? Career direction? Family direction? She hadn’t a clue.
This is the new adventure part you’re supposed to love.
She wanted to kick her inner sarcasm to the curb along with Beck.
“You want me to drive you? I brought my truck.”
In case she invited him to stay. A thrill ran through her. It would be so easy to back away from the ledge she’d climbed on and pretend everything was okay. Let him light her on fire and make her feel loved. Even the touch of his hands and the brushes against her body while they’d been dancing had filled her with heat and longing.
How can I walk away?
She had to. She had to build a life that didn’t rely on Beck by her side.
Now that she’d admitted to herself that she wasn’t happy, she had to stay true to her course. Create her own happy. Build her new life. Respect and prioritize herself.
It would be hard, but it would get easier.
“I prefer to walk.”
“You going to tell me what’s wrong?”
No.
Yes.
Ashni stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “It’s hard to put into words,” she began, and because it seemed so natural, she reached out, stroking one finger along his much bigger, stronger, work-roughened hand. Even when she knew she needed to get some distance, she still reached for him.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Anywhere’s good, Ash. Start anywhere. We’ll find our way. We always do.” He sounded so confident. So sure. And his smile, a little lopsided and wistful, was so familiar and safe that she nearly burrowed into him and just held on.
He felt like part of her, and she didn’t know who she’d be without him.
You’re about to find out.
Ashni walked toward the courthouse. She always loved the lights on the building at night and the beautiful park that fronted the courthouse and wrapped around it. In a couple of days, tourists would be pouring in for the rodeo. Already most of the shop windows were decorated with rodeo scenes. It seemed like each year the window dressings became more elaborate even though the friendly competition was more about pride, not prize.
Stop stalling.
“I love you, Beck.”
Now there was a news flash to no one ever. Why had she started with that?
He caught her around her waist and pulled her into his body. She thought he’d kiss her, and she felt herself soften.
He lightly cupped her jaw and ran one thumb over her lips.
“I love you too, Ash. You know that. It’s always been you.”
She searched his eyes, but even with the warm yellow light from the old-fashioned streetlights that were replicas of the town’s first gaslights, it was hard to see his expression.
“I know,” she said. “But I don’t think love is enough anymore.”
There was a beat of silence and then another, and another.
“What does that mean?” Beck asked hollowly.
“It’s not enough. We want different things from life.”
He stared at her—the picture of shock and bewilderment.
“Like what?”
Ashni pulled away from him and continued walking, faster now. How could he be so stupid? Like what? Like everything.
But that wasn’t fair. Overhearing him ask Bodhi about other women. The clear discomfort when Jerry pressed Beck today about his plans with her. The hurt was raw. But she knew it was more than that. She’d been unhappy for longer. She’d grown more dissatisfied with their life this entire year. She’d felt stuck.
She deserved better. But it was on her to seize it.
“Ash, hold up. Talk to me. Tell me what’s really going on.” His voice reflected his frustration.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Beck, and right now it feels like I’m hurting myself even more, but I want to break up. I need to break up with you.”
The words sounded obscene and loud in the night even though she never shouted.
He reared back.
“What are you talking about? Why would we ever break up?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“Never.”
“Really? Mister ‘I’ve never ever been with another woman. What’s that even like? Do they taste different? Feel different when you’re inside them? Is it different when they…you know, blow you? I’ll never get the chance to find out.’” She hurled the words at him. Total quote.
She’d even mimicked the wonder in his tone. The curiosity.
His mouth moved but no words came out.
“Like women are different flavors of ice cream for you to lick and taste. Well, now you’ve got your chance.”
It felt good to raise her voice. Good to be angry. Something inside her felt uncorked—an inner honest emotion genie.
“Go bang other women. Pick them up in bars. Have a competition with never keeps in it his pants, Bodhi. Have at it.”
“What?” He still stared at her as if she’d started speaking in tongues. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I’d never cheat. Never.”
“Don’t play stupid. You asked Bodhi about other women at the sponsor bar in Tucson,” she reminded him. “I didn’t feel up to going, but then I felt bad about not being there to support you so I showered, got dressed, and arrived to hear you and Bodhi speculating about whether a bunch of buckle bunnies would blow you differently.”
Beck squirmed—probably at her crass language, but also because he’d been caught out. Her heart felt like stone, but still the hurt and anger seared her veins. How she wished she’d slapped him at the time—stormed out like a pissed-off diva because this awkward part would have been over then, not just starting. Still, she reveled in the freedom she felt from uncorking the hurt so it fizzed all over him.
“The point is, you wanted to have other experiences with women. Opportunities. Now you have them.”
“I don’t. I really don’t. That was just…talk,” he stammered. “Just…you know…dumb guy talk. Bodhi’s always with different women. It’s so easy for him. I don’t understand how he can live like that, and I was just…I don’t know…curious. What drives him to pick a different woman every time? I’d had a couple of whiskeys and I just…” He spread out his fingers. “I never acted on it. I wouldn’t. I’ve never even wanted to. I promise, Ash.” He looked stricken. “It was just stupid guy talk.”
Her fists balled up. Somehow his mumbled sorry excuse left her colder than the glaciers fingering down Copper Mountain. “But that’s just the beginning of why I want to break up.”
She wanted him to be angry. Push back. Not look as miserable as a dog they’d once seen tossed out a window of a moving truck barreling down a Texas highway. They’d rescued the injured pup and had paid for its treatment at a vet they’d found who’d taken care of it and said he had contacts with a no-kill shelter. Ashni had wanted to keep the shivering mystery mixed-breed dog with the large, sad but hopeful eyes. But it hadn’t been “practical with our lifestyle right now”—Beck’s words. How she wished she’d ignored him. Two years later she still remembered how it felt to hold the dog, wrapped in her sweater, in her arms while they drove down a rainy highway.
“I don’t know what we’re doing anymore. Where we’re going. We want different things. I’m done following you and your career. I want a dog.”
“A…a what? A dog?” Beck repeated. “But you work for the tour. You’re head of the…”
“I’m tired of living out of a duffel bag. No future plans except the next city each weekend. I want to stop living on the road. I want a space to create art. I want to work with kids and families. I want a home. A garden. A kitchen. To sleep in the same bed and yeah, a dog and…”
Your baby.
He jerked like she’d struck him. That told her everything she needed to know. Thank God she’d left the last most precious want in her head.
It was over. Ashni felt cleaved in half. She was probably bleeding out. She felt numb. But she’d started this. She had to be strong and finish it.
“I want to use my science degree. I want to build a career. I want to have a family. You just want to live day to day, racking up points in an endless competition with your cousins.”
Beck’s eyes sparked and narrowed, and his mouth firmed.
Good.
“I don’t fit in that life anymore. I’m tired of trying.”
“This is about what Jerry did today at the arena?” Beck demanded, finally on the offense.
Yes! This would be so much easier if he were angry too.
The watery light from the half-moon filtered down through the oak trees in the park and played on the stark planes of his handsome and achingly familiar face.
The demand was a direct hit, but she had far more targets.
“I’ve felt like this all year,” she admitted. “Each year we talked about you joining up again. We discussed it. This year you signed up without telling me.”
He nodded and ran a shaking hand through his thick hair. His other hand white-knuckled his Stetson.
“I did. Bodhi and Bowen were in, so I just automatically re-upped. I should have discussed it with you. I’m sorry.”
“Doesn’t matter now I’m done. The Jerry thing was just the last nail—or maybe it was that my entire family saw you wiggle out of any sort of commitment to me on national television.”
Beck swore.
“Ash, baby.” He took a step toward her, and she took two quick steps back. She’d be done if he touched her. Done. She was angry and scared out of her mind at the same time, and she couldn’t believe she was going through with this. She craved an exit ramp, and yet at the same time she knew she needed to keep barreling down this road.
He jerked to stand still. It was one of the few times she’d seen him physically awkward. She loved the way he moved—like water or a breeze, so graceful and fluid and certain.
“I’m sorry about today with Jerry. He put me on the spot, and I don’t like to talk about us, our private life together.”
Of course he’d seize on that excuse.
“It just showed what I’ve spent too long ignoring. We want different things from life. I want to be happy, and I want you to be happy. So this is the end of the line for us.”
“How can I be happy without you?” he demanded. “I love you.”
They were back to the beginning.
“Love isn’t enough anymore. I’m bored with the travel. I hate living in the quarters of your rig and the occasional hotel room. I can do my job in my sleep. I want more. I need more. I wish I’d never left that dog behind in Texas,” she blurted. “I can’t go one more day without making this change.”
It was over. She’d killed their relationship. Thirteen, almost fourteen years down the drain.
She stared at him wanting…what? A magic wand? A rewind button? Beck had nodded with each thing she’d said, jaw clenched and tapping his Stetson nervously against his thigh in time with her words.
“This is the end.” The words she forced out were a husky whisper.
“You can’t just decide that after our whole lives together.” He glared at her, swiping his hat through the air. “You can’t tell me how I feel or what I need. I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, nor do I want to, so clearly I don’t need more or some other woman.”
The last word sounded like a curse, and Ashni was a bit shocked that she was happy he was so riled. She’d imagined this all so differently. Her crying. Beck solemn. Agreeing with her. Hugging her goodbye and striding off back to the bar, back to his cousins, back to the rodeo.
“Get creative. You’ll figure it out. You got a head start with that pink drink blonde.”
The sound he made was fascinating—sort of a huff and a growl she’d never heard before. “You know that was nothing. I was trying to be polite.”
Ashni didn’t respond.
“Why are you dumping all of this on me now?”
Ashni didn’t have an answer for that.
“If you’ve been so bored and unhappy, why not tell me? Why keep me up most of the night getting creative with chocolate the night before leaving for Reeva’s wedding if you were so bored and unhappy with me and our lives?”
Her heart practically charged out of her chest, and she could feel her whole body flush. The sudden comprehension in his eyes was unnerving. And wrong. He was totally wrong. He had to be.
“This is about Reeva’s wedding.”
Dang it.
“All your family jawing on you about us not being married already.”
“No,” Ashni said, denial choking her. “That did happen,” she admitted, resentment burbling up. “You missing such an important family occasion—again—definitely kicked up the gossip to a deafening decibel.”
“Ash, baby, I’m sorry. I wanted to go, but I…”
“Needed the points,” she finished, refinding her will to see this breakup through. “That’s your priority. It’s always been your priority. Not me. Not building a life together.”
He looked like she’d struck him. “For now,” he said in a tight voice, “but—”
“No but. No promises about the future, Beck. You should be free to live your life the way you want. And so should I. I…I love you,” she admitted.
“Present tense,” he seized the opening. “So why the hell would we break up?”
She sucked in a deep breath and forced her body to settle, to stand still on the sidewalk when she wanted to run and keep running. She’d initially thought that the breakup might be temporary. Something he’d talk her out of by professing undying love, proposing, promising to quit the tour after the finals—seeing their future her way.
Dumb.
And selfish.
“Love is not enough anymore.” If she kept saying it, he’d agree, right? “I need move on and be responsible for my happiness.”
“And getting married will magically make you happy?” he demanded. “You think marriage will suddenly validate our love and commitment?”
His voice rang out—angry, frustrated. His eyes glittered like topaz jewels embedded in rock. She’d never seen his jaw so clenched, his body so tense.
“Marriage isn’t everything,” he gritted out. “It doesn’t mean a damn thing. It’s a piece of paper. It doesn’t prove anything. Doesn’t keep men from cheating. Or hitting. Or make them take care of their family. Marriage is a tax deduction. A manipulation. A mirage to prove something to somebody else. It doesn’t prove what’s in my heart, and you, Ash, you—” he banged hard on his chest “—you are in my heart deep and forever. Seared there sure as a brand on my granddad’s cattle. I don’t need a marriage certificate to prove my feelings for you. And you shouldn’t need that either.”
He was angry. So angry. Ash stared, fascinated. He had strung together more words than she could remember at any time. Beck wasn’t broody like Bowen, but it was Bodhi who would hold court and entertain her, debating and dissecting any topic with her. Beck listened and joined in. This, this emotional and eloquent man was a fascinating stranger.
“My mom was married four times. Four. That’s insane. My dad twice. He ditched two wives and two sets of kids. Walked away. Never looked back. Marriage is no guarantee of anything, especially happiness. Marriage is meaningless.”
“Not to me.”
She faced him squarely, strangely calm and yet exhilarated. This was it. The first step into her new life.
“You want to get married.” His voice was flat. His expression unreadable.
He made marriage to her sound like a really unpleasant chore—like picking up three weeks of dog poop in the backyard in the middle of July.
She laughed. Free. Finally.
“That’s just it, Beck. I don’t. Not to you. Not anymore.”
*
The next morning, pre-dawn, Beck had fed the ranch horses, mucked out the stalls, and groomed both Raider and Gallatin. He’d even taken care of Bowen and Bodhi’s horses as Bowen had come home late, and Beck wasn’t sure Bodhi had come home at all.
Still he wasn’t soothed, nor had he found his center. He hadn’t slept much last night after Ashni’s breakup bomb. It still didn’t seem real. A Taylor Swift song came to mind. Had he really missed her signs? Why hadn’t she told him she was unhappy instead of just announcing the breakup like that was the only path forward? He was still scrambling to understand.
He’d walked her to her apartment and stood stupidly holding her hands, staring into her beloved face and repeating that he loved her—his only argument. Her reply? A shakily breathed “Beck, stop,” and a door closed in his face.
That had hurt. And pissed him off. He’d been unable to sleep, trying to figure out answers to questions he didn’t want to ask.
And what was he supposed to do? Give her time? Space? Or fight for her?
Dumb question.
Fight.
No way in hell was he going to indulge what had been a stupid, nosy question to his cousin and chase after some random woman this week.
His empty thermos drove him back to the house. He had to figure out a plan to win back Ash, convince her he was still her man. And for the first time in his life, he couldn’t go to his cousins or granddad for help.
He brewed more coffee, staring at the dark liquid steaming and spitting into the pot as if it held the answers he needed. Dammit. He couldn’t think. He felt scooped out. Ash was his life. Essential. He felt utterly alone, different without her. And if she kept the door shut, he’d have nowhere to go.
Bodhi would laugh in his face. Clap him on the back and say something pithy like ‘game on.’
A rodeo bride.
Ash should be his rodeo bride.
For real. He just had to ask. His public dodge had hurt her. Going to Reeva’s wedding alone had hurt her. Last night she’d said she wanted a home and a family.
And a dog.
Hope stirred in his heart. Since they’d graduated college marriage had been hinted at and then, after a couple of years, stated destination everyone steered them toward. It’s not that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with her. He did. But he didn’t want his mom’s tumultuous relationships and divorce after divorce for him or Ash. The anger. Disappointment. Bitterness. Hate.
I could never hate Ash.
And they were different from his mom and his various stepdads. It was the people who married who screwed it up, not the marriage, right? Marriage wasn’t some magical boogeyman that banged on the door with a wrecking ball.
He didn’t feel as confident as he should. If he married Ash, they would still be them, not suddenly transformed into people who no longer talked, laughed, shared, loved.
Like what’s happened.
Beck felt sick. Couldn’t breathe right. He’d lost her through his inaction. So how did he fight for her? A proposal. He could do that.
But walk away from the rodeo? How could he walk when his cousins needed him the most? Bodhi had become increasingly reckless this year—slipping the leash of his control. Bowen grew more remote each day. Beck felt that he provided balance. And Ash brought the light. The joy that lit them all.
He stared blindly out the kitchen window. No answers except he knew he didn’t want to imagine his life without Ash in it.
“Look at you, up and about and on your second thermos,” Bodhi greeted him. “That’s what a night of make-up sex will do for a cowboy. It’s a thing of beauty. Ring shopping today?”
The flash of anger startled him.
“I didn’t know you got in.” He sucked in a breath, swallowed his reaction.
“Just did.”
“I don’t want to hear about it, any of it.”
“Okay, so no make-up sex.” Bodhi looked more interested.
Bowen joined them. “Thanks for getting coffee started.”
He looked as ill rested as Bodhi. Apparently, Beck had been the only one to sleep in his bed last night, alone, although there’d been no sleep to make the early night worth it.
Bowen reached for a mug from the open shelves above the coffee station that had a commercial-sized coffeepot along with a Keurig Ash had bought for their grandfather last Christmas.
Beck had redone the kitchen cabinets on his last break—stripping, sanding, repainting, and rebuilding a few with glass inset doors, and a couple of sets of open shelves. Beck hadn’t yet floated the idea of refinishing the floors, but with the moms coming, that probably wouldn’t work this time.
But would there be another time?
“Don’t engage with Beck. He’s cranky. Ash kicked him out of bed.”
“You really ought to write fiction.” Beck tried to ignore the ribbing. “Or better yet, romance.”
“Maybe I will.” Bodhi drank deeply from his mug. “But I get enough romance in my life.” He stretched, and then took another appreciative swallow of his coffee. “Damn, Beck, you do get one thing right consistently. Coffee.”
“One and done is not romance,” Granddad chimed in.
All three cousins swiveled to stare at their granddad. He usually let them verbally box, and he never commented about their so-called romantic relationships with women.
“The way you carry on, it’s like a competition. Like you’re going to get a prize for wrangling the most fillies. You’re not. More likely a few cases of STDs and a trip to the public health department for a shot in your butt.”
Bodhi flushed and jerked to attention from his sprawl against the counter.
“You’re a good man, Bodhi. Find a good woman,” he grumped. “And you—” he pointed a tanned, leathery finger at Beck, who winced like he was seven all over again and had messed up one of his chores “—make things right with Ashni. If you think the grass is greener—” he glared at Bodhi and Beck “—one look at Bodhi’s absurd antics will spell it out for even the most illiterate cowboy. It’s not.”
“No, sir,” Beck and Bodhi said reflexively.
Granddad pushed the button on the Keurig. “Got a list of chores for you boys in the North Vista barn up on Plum Hill to get it ready for the Bash Sunday night. And the girls have some work for you boys at the cabin as well.”
“Consider it done,” Bowen said quietly, finishing his coffee.
Granddad took his mug of coffee and went to sit on the front porch—where he always started his day. The front door banged louder than usual, and Beck and his cousins stared at each other, clearly uncomfortable. Bodhi still had a flush high on his cheekbones.
“I’m going to bring Ash a chai and a scone or blueberry muffin from the Java Café. I’ll catch up with you at the barn in an hour or so,” Beck said, breaking the silence.
“An hour? That’s all you got?” Bodhi smirked, recovered from their granddad’s rare dressing down. “Takes nearly twenty minutes to get to town.”
“Works for me,” Bowen said. “Take two hours. I’ll need at least that.”
“Why?” both Beck and Bodhi demanded.
“We got a game on, right? I don’t stand on the sidelines.” He grabbed his hat and left the kitchen.
“Seriously?” Beck stared at Bowen who jammed on his boots and reached for his keys. It was barely light, and Bowen had a date this early? With Shauna? His mind rebelled against that idea, but who else?
“You know Ballantynes don’t go down without swinging.” Bodhi stood and reached for his hat.
Bowen paused at the back door, hand on the handle.
“I don’t,” Beck said suddenly knowing with total clarity what he was going to do. What he had to do. “I’m all in.”
“Hey.” Bodhi caught his arm, hard. “Ash is off the board.”
Beck squirmed. He could feel Bowen’s focused attention from across the kitchen.
“You can’t play with her.”
“I’m not,” he denied fiercely. What did his cousin take him for? “Ash dumped me last night so she’s in play.”
Bodhi rocked back on his heels. Bowen stared.
“She dumped you?”
“Yeah.” It took guts to admit it. “Gonna win her back. I’m buying her a ring any cowboy can see across a dance floor. I’m going to propose to her in front of Granddad and the moms,” he said feeling reckless. “And we’re going to pick out a dog!”
After the finals.
If that wasn’t a commitment, he didn’t know what was. Beck kicked into his boots, grabbed his keys, and jammed his hat low on his forehead before Bodhi and Bowen even moved.
“Hell, I’ll even marry her at the damn Bash. See if you can top that!” Beck pushed open the back door and headed for his truck, his mind made up and his blood burning with determination.
He heard his cousins coming up behind, and he started to run. Their footsteps pounded the dirt fast and familiar behind him, and Beck increased his speed, smiling. It was going to be okay.
“You’re on, cowboy,” Bodhi called out, just like Beck knew he would.
“Don’t count on your Plum Hill until the foundation is poured,” Bowen said.
Beck laughed and reached his truck.
“I dare you,” he said to both of his cousins. “Double dare.”
Their eyes flared. It was all kinds of crazy, but it felt good. Beck got in his truck and started his engine, peeling out ahead of Beck and Bodhi, just a little.