Her Cowboy Groom. Trish Milburn

Her Cowboy Groom - Trish  Milburn


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what if she was in the bedroom crying? “Shouldn’t we just leave her alone until she’s ready to come out?”

      “She might not come out tonight. And chances are if she’s upset she hasn’t eaten.”

      Owen bit down on the urge to ask why his dad didn’t take the chili to Linnea, instead grabbing the tray. Might as well get it over with. When he reached the guest room, he held the tray in one hand while he knocked on the door with the other. He heard movement inside before Linnea opened the door. Thank God she didn’t look as if she’d been crying, at least not recently. But there was evidence of earlier tears in the puffiness around her eyes.

      “Dad warmed up some chili for you.”

      “He didn’t have to do that.”

      “Wasn’t a problem. We tend to make enough to feed half of Texas when we cook chili.”

      Linnea smiled a little as she reached out and took the tray. “Thank you.”

      After an awkward moment, he nodded and started to walk away.

      “Owen?”

      He looked back at her. The unsure hesitance on her face was so unlike Linnea. She was usually full of life and buzzing around like a bee, always doing something. She and Chloe had been the perfect college roommates. Seeing her look broken and sad left him with the most helpless feeling he’d had in a very long time.

      “Thanks, for everything. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can get the tire fixed.”

      While part of him had no idea what to do with a heartbroken woman in his house, he got the oddest feeling that maybe she was just where she needed to be at the moment.

      “Don’t worry about it. The room is just sitting here empty. If you can stand being around us, you’re welcome to stay. You class up the joint.”

      When she offered him the hint of a smile, it made him happier than it should.

      * * *

      LINNEA KNEW SHE should leave the bedroom and be social, especially since she’d dropped in on the Brody men unannounced. But she just couldn’t make herself do it. She feared she’d lose her tenuous grip on her control and start crying in front of them. And despite the fact that they’d been around Chloe for years, she doubted they knew how to deal with an overly emotional female. No, it was better if she just stayed out of sight for a while. In fact, she texted Chloe that there was no need for her to get out in the rain even though the house she shared with Wyatt was only a few miles away on another part of the ranch. She’d just talk to her the next day, when hopefully Linnea would have more control over her heartbreak.

      She didn’t feel much like eating, but her stomach had other ideas. It was empty and demanding to be fed. She’d not eaten anything since breakfast, and honestly she was a little light-headed from lack of food. So she sat in the comfortable reading chair in the corner and took a bite of the chili. She thought she’d only be able to manage a few spoonfuls, but she ended up emptying the bowl and half the sleeve of crackers.

      Linnea felt no better about the state of her life, but at least she wasn’t hungry on top of that.

      The minutes ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace. She was beginning to think coming to the ranch had been a very bad idea. Maybe she should have gone somewhere no one knew her like the beach, on a cruise, the other side of the world.

      Her phone buzzed, drawing her out of a daydream about lying in the sun in the Caribbean. When she saw that it was Michael, her bottom lip quivered. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her heart broke into even more pieces. How many times had seeing his name on her phone display made her smile? Sent joy coursing through her heart? Too many to count. But now it just made her want to crush the phone in her hand until it was nothing but dust. With her fingers shaking, she blocked his number. And then the tears started to fall again.

      She curled into the bed and covered her head with a pillow, hoping it muffled the sound enough that no one would hear her. Having an unexpected guest drop in was bad enough. But having that guest turn into a blubbering mess was even worse.

      Still, she couldn’t help it. She’d thought putting distance between her and Michael would be a good thing, but she actually felt worse. And she couldn’t contain the hurt anymore, so she let it flow out as quietly as she could when what she really wanted to do was scream and wail and ugly cry until there was nothing left inside her.

      Linnea fell asleep with her clothes on and the tears still flowing. When she woke the next morning, she realized it was because she heard Owen, Garrett and their dad getting ready to head out to work. Judging by how she felt, she knew she had to be quite a sight with her puffy, itchy eyes, stuffy nose and pounding headache. And her body ached as if she’d been body-slammed.

      She lay in the bed staring at the ceiling as footsteps came down the hall, then paused for a moment outside her door before moving on. Was it Owen? His dad? Owen had always been the wildest of the Brody clan, according to Chloe, moving from job to job and never one to turn down an opportunity to have a good time. But the night before, he’d acted more like his sister, caring and offering a helping hand. Maybe she’d looked as fragile as she’d felt, and he’d been afraid she’d break.

      After the house grew quiet, she still couldn’t force herself out of bed. She hated feeling so miserable, so pathetic, but she just couldn’t muster the energy to move.

      Several minutes later, she heard a door open and close and wondered if one of the guys had forgotten something. But then there was a light knock on her door.

      “Lin? You awake?” Chloe asked.

      She thought about not answering, letting Chloe think she was asleep, but her friend had given her a place to retreat to. The least she could do was thank her for that. “Yeah.”

      The door opened slowly before Chloe poked her head through the opening. “Hey. How are you doing?”

      Linnea took a shaky breath. “I’ve been better.”

      Chloe came fully into the room and sat on the side of the bed. She took one of Linnea’s hands between hers. “I’m so sorry. I want to do Michael bodily harm for hurting you, betraying you like that.”

      “You’re not the only one.”

      “Did he give you any sort of explanation why he’d be that cruel?”

      “I didn’t give him the chance.”

      “Well, good. I can’t imagine a single thing he could say that would make him any less of a worthless human being.”

      Linnea knew everything Chloe was saying was true, but it still hurt. She didn’t want Michael to be a worthless human being. She wanted the past twenty-four hours to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare brought on by bad seafood. She desperately wanted to wake up from that nightmare to find that Michael was the loving, caring man he’d been over the past six months. But as she looked at the righteous anger in her best friend’s eyes, she knew every horrible moment had been all too real.

      Chloe squeezed Linnea’s hand in what felt like a grip of solidarity. “I’m going to make you some French toast. It’s never failed us before.”

      True, French toast had become their go-to breakfast whenever anything went wrong in college—bad grade, rotten date, even breakups. But this was so far beyond even the awesome healing properties of French toast.

      “Don’t you need to get to work?”

      “I can go in later.”

      Linnea shook her head. “I don’t want you shifting your life around for me.”

      “Don’t be silly. You’re my best friend. This is what best friends are for.”

      Linnea placed her free hand atop Chloe’s. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think anything is going to help how I feel right now other than time. Or possibly a lobotomy.”

      The


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