Chapter One
Lauren
I read a statistic that said if you have one person you can call in the middle of the night who will drop everything to come help you, then you should count yourself lucky. Well, I guess I’m doubly lucky because my person also happens to be a cranky cowboy with a heart of pure gold.
“Hey, sweetheart.” The moment I hear my brother’s best friend’s voice, some of the tension bleeds from my shoulders. He is the cranky cowboy. He’s cranky with everyone. Except me.
I stare at my bedroom wall where the water spot grows bigger by the second, a distinct rushing sound behind it. I whisper into the phone, “I need you.”
“I’m on the way.”
It’s two in the morning. He doesn’t sound all that awake, but his tone is gentle. It could make a girl think she were special to him if she were foolish enough to believe in such things. “I’m sorry to wake you.”
“Wasn’t sleeping anyway,” he answers as if I can’t read the lie in his rumbly voice. Still, it makes me feel better that he’s trying to make me feel better. Bronco has been like this as long as I’ve known him, though I’ve only known him for a few years.
He and my brother, Vale, became best friends when they were serving in the Marines together. They were supposed to come home and start a ranch for veterans, a place where guys returning from combat could transition back to civilian life.
Except that only one of them came home.
Now, Bronco looks after me because I’m his responsibility. The little sister he inherited from Vale. Problem is, I’ve never once looked at Bronco and thought of him as a big brother. I’ve always thought of him as a man—a big, gruff man with eyes that are stormy blue and a bushy beard I want to touch.
I listen to the sound of his quiet breathing and the rustle of clothes as he pulls them on. Does Bronco sleep naked? Is that a normal thing to wonder about your brother’s best friend? Somehow, I don’t think it is.
I wish things were different between us. I wish he’d want me back. I wish he’d take me in his arms and kiss me until I couldn’t think anymore. But if I can’t have that, then I wish I didn’t think of him at all. I wish I could be content, happy even, with his begrudging friendship.
Instead, I’m stuck with a helpless crush that I’ve never been able to shake. I guess it’s my fault really. When Vale told me about Staff Sergeant Hayes, a gruff loner with no family of his own, something in my heart hurt.
I hated the idea that there was a man out there, willing to give everything to protect his men and no one was looking out for him.
After that, when I sent care packages to Vale, I included little treats for Bronco. He never said thank you or acknowledged a thing I did. But I knew it mattered. I knew it in the way that only someone who’s been abandoned too could know it.
“Tell me something,” he says, and I hear the truck door slam. He’s on the way. Help is on the way. Tears prick at my eyes when the thought comes, and I have to blink them back. Bronco doesn’t know how bad things are here. No one does.
I haven’t told him because it’s not his mess. This is my mess. I made it. I have to figure out how to clean it up. Except that I’ve never been so scared in my life, and I’m terrified that the people I care most about are going to pay for it.
“Like w-what?” I ask, stalling for time.
“A favorite memory,” he answers easily. “What’s one of your favorite memories?”
It only takes me a moment to think of one. “There used to be a magnolia tree on the property. It was the first thing I noticed the day my mom aban—dropped me and Vale off here.”
I’m not sure how much of our past Vale told Bronco. I don’t guess it matters. A lot of kids are abandoned by their drug addicted mom. Most kids just aren’t abandoned by their mom at a retirement community.
My Aunt Elaine is the director of the Wildflower Retirement Community. She didn’t blink or hesitate when my mom left the two of us on her doorstep. She hugged both me and Vale, gave us her trademark sunny smile, and promised that things were going to be all right.
Because of her, I grew up in this retirement home. I spent my days running the halls and doing craft time with the seniors. It was like having a big extended family filled with dozens and dozens of grandparents. Most of them doted on us, and very few complained about the noise we made. Instead, we were embraced as part of the community.
“I remember you mentioned a couple of years ago how much you love magnolia trees,” he answers softly. I try to remember when I told him. I can’t remember if that was before or after the memorial service I held for my brother.
Bronco was mad, said we shouldn’t give up hope. But he’s been missing in action for three years, and I know my brother. If he could have reached out to me, he would have by now. Which means I’m alone in this world.
The thought makes the lump in my throat grow even bigger, and I have to swallow it down. “Anyway, the magnolia tree was my favorite place. I’d always go under the branches to hold tea parties or read my favorite books or even just to think. It was my special little place.”
I pause for a moment there, lost in the memories of simpler, happier times. Is it that life truly was easier in the past or is nostalgia just grief romanticized?
Bronco doesn’t say anything. He lets me be lost without demanding anything, and I think maybe that’s a forgotten art, the willingness to sit with a friend in pain and grief and remain unflinchingly steady.
I glance at the water spot that’s grown so much darker and bigger. When I made the call to Bronco it was as big as a dinner plate. Now, it’s the size of six dinner plates, and there’s not much I can do to stop it. Not without stopping water to the entire building.
The retirement home has been having problems. Old pipes are regularly bursting, but it’s too expensive to get them replaced all at once. Instead, we have to wait for them to burst then do our best to patch everything. The insurance company that my aunt pays an outrageous amount of money to every year has declared the problem as not covered, so it’s on us to figure things out.
I will never understand how it’s legal for insurance companies to pick and choose what they cover. It seems they take a lot of money only to be very little help when it’s truly needed.
Fortunately, Dalton, one of the men who works here, and Bronco, both know enough about pipes that they’ve been fixing them. Normally, I’d have told my aunt by now. But I don’t want to disturb her late in the night. Not with all the stress she’s under.
I finally remember that I’m on the phone with Bronco and continue my story, “I was in high school when Vale built me a bench and put it under there. He did it for my birthday, and it was the best gift I ever got.”
It’s gone now.
The bench.
The tree.
My brother.
During a summer storm one night, the magnolia tree was hit by lightning and caught fire. It collapsed on the bench, and there was nothing to be saved from either.
The next morning, the news came.
My brother was missing in action.
“He loved you a lot,” Bronco says.
Of course he did, Vale and I were best friends despite the ten-year age gap between us. We were buddies, not because we shared DNA but simply because we chose to be. Then he had to go and leave me.
“Do you have a favorite memory?” I ask softly, feeling shy even as I say the words. Bronco is good at encouraging me to talk, but he rarely answers my questions directly. I’m not sure if he’s shy too or if he finds me annoying. My heart twists at the thought. Please let him just be shy.
“I’m here,” he says instead of answering. Is it crazy that I wish he’d still been driving? That I wish he’d have finally opened up and told me something about himself? I only know what I’ve managed to glean from Vale.
“I’ll get you buzzed in,” I tell him, disconnecting the call quickly. I slip into a pair of kitten heels left strewn by my front door and leave my room. I live in the retirement community, the same as my aunt does. We have our own rooms here, just like the residents. Each space comes with a living area, kitchenette, bathroom, and bedroom. It’s a cozy place, and no one knows it’s teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. No one but me and Aunt Elaine.
I hurry down the hall to the reception area where Ryan’s gaze is flicking between a thriller he’s reading and the security camera feeds. He’s been working here for years, always standing guard to make sure no one leaves when they shouldn’t. We only have a couple of dementia patients at a time, but their confusion worsens once the sun goes down.
I clear my throat, and he glances toward me. I’m not usually up at this hour, let alone asking him to buzz in visitors. “Can you buzz in Bronco? We have another water leak. This one is in a residential room.”
Ryan swears under his breath and hits a series of numbers on his keypad. The sound of the locks disengaging is loud in the middle of the night. “Do I need to get Elaine?”
I fight a yawn. “There’s no point. I’ll tell her in the morning.”
He nods and goes back to his book, not even looking up when Bronco enters.
As usual, my knees go weak the moment he’s here. He fills the space of the lobby with his presence, his broad shoulders and big Stetson instantly making the room feel smaller. His red flannel shirt with the long sleeves and dark wash blue jeans cling to his massive frame. He’s so large it looks as if someone tried to sew the clothes onto his body. Half the men in this town must shop at the tall stores. Courage County grows them big and strong here.
He looks me up and down with no clue how much his gaze warms me or how badly I want to run to him and hug him. The closest I’ve ever come to physical affection from Bronco is when he put an arm around me at Vale’s memorial service.
“Show me where the problem is.” When he says those words, I could sink into a puddle of relief. It’s not that I need some gallant man to come rescue me. It’s just been a really crappy few weeks, and the one person who always makes me feel better is here.
I duck my head and turn so he won’t see how close I am to tears. It would be just like Bronco to try and swoop in to fix this, but what I’m dealing with is so much bigger and worse than a leaking pipe spraying in the walls.
I lead him to my living space, trying to ignore the way it makes me tingly all over to have him here. My brother’s best friend is in my home.
Granted, whenever I have this reoccurring dream of Bronco showing up in the middle of the night, it’s not because of some water crisis. No, in those fantasies, he shows up because he can’t deny it. He’s been driven mad by desire and now, he can’t live a moment longer without confessing to me how he feels.
He follows me to the bedroom, and the moment he spots the wall, he murmurs, “I see.”
I nod miserably. You’d think I’d be an expert at dealing with problems like this, and normally, I am. But normally, I have the whole retirement community watching, and it’s my job to show up with a smile and reassure everyone that things are fine. But who’s going to reassure me tonight?
“Can you fix it?” I croak out, hating how brittle my voice sounds.
“Easier than roping a steer,” he announces. “Let me get the water cut off first. I think your side of the building was the one where we started installing turn-offs. It’s common practice now, but it wouldn’t have been when the place was built. Dalton and I have been working on getting it done.”
“I never even realized,” I mutter. I know Dalton is a gardener who works here. He’s good friends with Bronco and more than that, he’s married to Bree who also works here as the nurse practitioner. She’s my best friend. I caught the bouquet at her recent wedding.
“Let me get that water off, then I’ll be back,” he says. It only takes him a few minutes to return. This time, he’s carrying a toolbox and whistling a soft tune under his breath. It’s oddly comforting to hear him whistling. If this man who has seen war and combat can whistle in the middle of the night, then my water problem must not be all that bad.
He settles on his knees in front of the wall and gestures for me to join him. I do, making sure to smooth down my skirt. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m still dressed. I haven’t been sleeping, and I hate crawling into bed only to stare up into the darkness as my thoughts spiral.
Lately, I’ve taken to organizing things to help clear my head. So far, I have perfectly alphabetized my kitchen pantry and deep cleaned my stove so pristinely a doctor could perform surgery in my oven. Not sure why a doctor would perform surgery there, unless he was tiny, and I’m getting off track. I blame the exhaustion.
“I’ll get it going with a gator bite tonight. That’s this piece here.” He holds it up to show me. “It’ll clamp on both ends of the pipe. It’ll be enough that I can restore the water. Then tomorrow, while you’re working, I’ll go through and cut out the leaking pipe and replace it.”
“Sure, just let me know what I owe you,” I answer. He does a lot of work around the community center, and I’ve never once seen him accept anything from my aunt. Bronco is the type that helps out just because he can.
He scoffs before saying in the deep, rumbly voice of his, “Don’t want a damn thing from you.”
My eyes tear up again, and my chin wobbles. There aren’t many good people left in this world and sitting right next to me is one of the best. He always has time for everyone else even though I’m sure he’s fighting his own demons.
“Hey…this isn’t a big deal. Really. It takes a couple of days at the most to fix. I’ll make sure the drywall is replaced and hell, I’ll color match the paint myself. By the time I’m done, you’ll never even remember there was a leak here.”
I take a deep breath and force myself to hold it together. I can cry all I want once Bronco is gone. Though in truth, I probably won’t cry. It’s just that having him around makes me feel a little less alone, and I haven’t felt that way in a while. “Tell me what to do.”
He studies me, his gaze on my face. But I keep my attention focused firmly on the wet drywall, not on the handsome cowboy who’s peering at me with far too much concern. After a lengthy silence, he says, “First, we’re going to get the wet drywall removed.”
He pushes through it with his hand, showing me the mushy wall. “It crumbles easily.”
We work together in silence for over an hour, and it’s soothing to have Bronco’s presence beside me. It’s less soothing to realize we had to remove half the wall due to water damage.
“This must have been leaking for a bit,” I remark as he shines his flashlight along the pipes.
“Yep, it’s usually those little leaks that lead to something bigger.” He casts me a long sideways glance as he says the words.
I wonder if it would help to get it out. Aunt Elaine and I swore each other to secrecy, but if anyone can be trusted to take a secret to his grave, it’s definitely Bronco. As it is, he barely does more than grunt with anyone else. “You can’t fix this.”
“I’d rope the moon if it meant giving you back that pretty little smile of yours.” He says the words with so much sincerity that my heart melts right there in my chest. As if I needed another reason to fall deeper in love with my brother’s best friend.
