Wild Ride Cowboy. Maisey Yates
that you used for the cattle would work. And frankly, the farmers’ market idea is a good one.”
“Are you suggesting I sell honey, tomatoes and bison?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I have the money to invest in this. I want to do it. And I think it’s the best thing for you.”
Clara bristled. “You think it’s the best thing for me. Based on speaking to me all of five times in my entire life? Based on the fact that you knew my brother? You don’t know what I want, Alex.”
“Okay. What do you want?”
His green eyes were intense on hers, and she didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t know how to answer the question, mostly because she hadn’t expected him to pose it.
She had the fleeting image of Asher. Of him living in this little house with her. Enjoying a simple existence. Keeping bees, making honey. He could make artisan coffee and maybe they could have goats. She could make room in her garden for kale. She didn’t like tomatoes either, and she grew those.
She wasn’t going to tell Alex any of that.
“I’m not really sure,” she said. “I would settle for not being further traumatized by life at this point.”
Those eyes softened a little. “Unfortunately, none of us gets that guarantee.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Think about it.”
She shoved another bite of food into her mouth. “What’s the point in me thinking about it, Alex? You own this place. Your word is law.”
“It was never my goal to come in here and take over everything.”
She snorted. “That is completely not true. Of course it was your goal. That’s why you’re here. To claim ownership. To take control.”
“Maybe it is. Why would that be a problem for you? You can continue to do what you’re doing. I’m just going to help get things more established, that’s all.”
“Excuse me for not exactly buying into this idea that you’re being a philanthropist here on my ranch. This benefits you financially. Or, it will.”
Alex’s jaw tightened, his face so still it had the look of granite. “I don’t need your money, Clara. But you need my help. And whether or not you believe it, I’m here because Jason asked me to be. Because I fought alongside him and that means something to me, Clara. Whether you can understand it or not, it does.”
She swallowed hard, feeling unsettled, feeling uncertain. First off, she didn’t know why she cared that he was here. Except that he was so large, broad and confrontational. Except that he made it feel so real that Jason was gone. Really gone. He knew things she didn’t know about her brother’s final moments, she was certain. She was also certain she didn’t want to know them. At least, not now.
But if Alex wanted to pour his money into the ranch, if he wanted to add another stream of revenue, there was nothing really to fight about.
She closed her eyes for a moment and had the oddest sensation that she was adrift on a river she didn’t want to be on. Drifting toward God knew where. On a raft she had never consented to get onto in the first place.
No control. None at all. But then, what else was new?
“Fine. Get your bison. Fix stuff. Whatever you need to do to feel like you’ve seen to Jason’s final wishes.” The word final stuck in her throat, snagged on a notch of emotion, making it feel as if she couldn’t breathe.
“I will.” He stood, gripping the brim of his hat and tipping it forward slightly. “I’ll be at the ranch bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“And I’ll be at work.”
His lips twitched. “But first, getting coffee again? Since you like it so much.”
Her face heated, and she fought against the blush she knew was intensifying. She was not a thirteen-year-old girl with a crush. She resented him for making her feel like one.
“Yes,” she responded. “Getting coffee again. My favorite.”
He lifted a brow but said nothing. “I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow at some point.”
She nodded, and then Alex turned and walked out.
For some reason, as soon as the door closed behind him, a tear rolled down Clara’s cheek. And then another one. Maybe having Alex here should have felt like the answer to something. A wake-up call at the very least. That somebody had come in and seen just how unprepared she was to deal with all of this.
To move into a life that had to function without Jason in it. Forever.
And whether or not he intended to be, Alex Donnelly was a symbol of that.
ALEX WAS IN a mean mood by the time he got back home. It was late, and he was starving, and he was still replaying the scene with Clara over in his mind. He really should have gone to see her sooner. He had noticed the stacks of mail sitting on the counter. Had noticed the general state of disrepair of the place.
But he had a plan now, one that had been affirmed when he’d gotten there and spoken to her.
Bees.
Of all the hipster bullshit.
“Where have you been?”
Alex’s older half brother Cain was walking toward the main house, probably heading down from the little converted barn he lived in with his fiancée, Alison, and his teen daughter, Violet.
“Busy,” Alex responded.
“Well, considering you didn’t just follow that up with sexual innuendo, I’m going to go ahead and guess that you were actually taking care of that property you’ve been needing to see to.”
“Not that it’s your business, but yes.” There was no reason for him to be short with Cain. But since his older brother was an extreme hard-ass and didn’t seem to care, Alex didn’t see a reason not to be.
“Good,” Cain said. “About time for you to man up.”
“Thanks. Next time I need your opinion on my masculinity, I’ll ask. Right after I finish polishing my dog tags and disassembling my AR.”
“We could save time and you could just whip it out and measure, Alex. I’m not threatened by that.”
“What are we measuring?” Finn, Alex’s other older half brother, chose that moment to walk out the front door.
“What do you think?” Alex asked.
“Wow. Okay. I think I’ll pass on this brotherly bonding experience,” Finn responded, clearly picking up on the tone of the conversation without further hints.
“You weren’t invited,” Alex said cheerfully. “And I’m starving.”
“You’re in luck. Lane cooked.”
Finn’s fiancée usually did cook. She owned the specialty food mercantile on the main street in town, and had a passion for not only spreading good food around, but for elevating the eating experience of the Donnelly brothers—or at least trying to.
If she had seen what Clara was eating tonight, she probably would have force-fed her some kind of specialty cheese.
Alex walked up the steps with Cain behind him. Then the three of them filed into the house. Whatever Lane was cooking, Alex could smell it already. Something warm and comforting. Something that smelled like home. Not Alex’s childhood home, but the way he had imagined other people’s homes had smelled.
Or maybe, it smelled like this home. This was the longest he’d