I’d worked alongside Jude for ten years now, drank with him more than a few times, grieved with him on some hard cases, and never had a clue. But then again, I hadn’t had a clue about my own self either.

  “I don’t broadcast being pansexual, but I don’t hide either.” Jude didn’t sound particularly worried about gossip himself. He was the best large animal vet for miles, well-respected. Ranchers would be stupid to stop calling for him over something as minor as who he bedded.

  Oh. A neon sign lit up in my brain, but before I could contemplate it, Colt spoke again. “You know, Mav keeps trying to think of someone to set Adler up with. Give him a reason to stick around.”

  I clenched my teeth hard enough to crack a molar. It might be February, but in here, I was burning up with rage I had no business feeling. I’d been the one to insist on secrecy. If the world saw Adler as single, I had only myself to blame.

  “The two of you are turning into a matchmaking cliché.” Jude wagged a finger at Colt. “And I’d rather avoid Gray laying me out.”

  “Why would Gray…?” Colt trailed off as he turned his head to stare at me. I looked away, studying the various rusty signs on the bar wall. “Seriously?”

  “You need another beer.” I gestured at the bar like that would save me from his scrutiny. “Jude, you want to fetch us another round?”

  “Nah.” Smile never wavering, Jude stayed put. “I’m on a one-beer limit because I’m on call. I can take a hint though.”

  “Yep. Not gonna make you talk.” Colt’s voice slid into the sort of solemnness he usually saved for when he was on duty. “Here if you ever want to, but I should be heading out soon tonight.”

  I couldn’t see ever wanting to talk, but I nodded nonetheless. “Appreciated.”

  A short while later, after the three of us said our goodbyes, I headed to my truck, laughably sober despite my intentions otherwise. I pulled out my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed a calamity at the ranch, but instead, there was a message from my mother. It wasn’t a major holiday, but I dutifully clicked to discover a meme of a little kid in a cowboy hat swinging on a gate. The meme read, Always make sure you’re on the right side of a gate before you close it.

  My mother had added a text of her own.

  Saw this and thought of you. The boy is a spitting image of you at that age. You always were a born cowboy, Gray. Hope you’re keeping warm.

  I exhaled hard, breath hanging in front of me. As I warmed up the truck, my mind raced.

  “You can’t keep judging the world by your parents.” Adler’s voice rang in my ears. It wasn’t only the world I judged. I kept right on judging my parents as well, especially my mother. I’d put up a sturdy fence all around my heart, never once considering what else I’d locked away. Had I shut the wrong gate? Accidentally trapped myself?

  I’d spent decades trying to outrun the hurt, but inside, I’d remained that scared kid, watching his family fall apart amid an avalanche of gossip. I’d blamed the gossip because it was easier than admitting exactly how human my parents were. My finger flipped from the message to the contact screen for my mother, hovering over the Call icon.

  My heart pounded. My hands sweat. I had no clue how to be the person Adler needed and deserved, and I had no clue what kind of difference hitting that button would make. All I knew was that some fences were made to come down.

  Chapter Thirty

  Adler

  I was a master multitasker to the point that even I was impressed at my ability to keep focused on the guest project with Maverick. The girls were watching an episode of their favorite show in the great room with Faith, and not even the drone of the TV could distract me from the plans we were reviewing at the dining room table.

  Lies.

  I had the worst case of squirrel brain ever, hadn’t been able to stay on task all damn week, with ordinary jobs taking three times as long. No matter how hard I tried, my brain flitted right back to Grayson and his stubbornness. However, I was determined to outrun my thoughts, and I spun the laptop around to face Maverick.

  “So, if we go with this online booking software, we can manage reservations in real time with automated messages to the guests,” I explained.

  “Excellent.” Maverick leaned forward like picking a reservation app was the most interesting part of his day. “And one of those messages will be a list of things to do in the area for them as well?”

  “Yep.” I nodded. If I gave myself enough action items, maybe I could actually get my brain to cooperate. “The idea is to drive some business to the town while also not putting the entire burden on us to entertain the guests twenty-four-seven.”

  “I don’t think there’s much risk of them being bored.” Maverick laughed lightly as he held up one of my many lists. “You keep coming up with new things for them to do here.”

  “Yeah.” It was only a split-second reaction, but I couldn’t summon my usual chipperness. My voice came out slumped, and Maverick immediately narrowed his eyes.

  “Wait. Are you bored here? Is that why you’re worried about the guests not having enough choices for activities?”

  “Me? Bored?” I screwed my smile back in place, but Maverick continued to study me far too closely. “I love it here.”

  “You’ve been off lately.” Maverick didn’t accept my stock answer. “I was worried you were getting tired of rural life.”

  “Nope.” I made my grin that much wider, cheeks hurting from the effort.

  “Not sending in applications to resorts in warmer climates?” Maverick teased as he gestured at the window and the frosty February landscape beyond.

  “I said I’d see this project through, and I meant it.” Oops. I snapped again, and Maverick responded by scooting closer and placing a hand on my arm.

  “Hey. I was teasing. I know you’re not looking elsewhere.” Head tilting, he scrutinized my face intently. “Seriously, are you okay? I can usually count on you to laugh at even my bad jokes. You’re normally a ray of sunshine, which is sorely needed with all this winter weather.”

  “I’m…” I opened my mouth for another stock answer. Closed it. How many damn meetings had I sat in over the last two years or so? How often had I told Faith and others to be truthful about how they were feeling? How hard had I pushed Gray for honesty? How big a fraud was I when I couldn’t do the same? All of a sudden, I was weary down to my mismatched socks. Pretending was exhausting. “I’m not okay.”

  “What do you need?” Maverick was quick to spring into action, reaching for his phone as if to summon the troops. “We can knock off here if you need a meeting. Or maybe Faith could⁠—”

  “I’m not relapsing.” I groaned because I should have expected that reaction. The few times Maverick had seen me as a hot mess, my life had been falling apart. The rest of the time, I worked so hard to always be in a good mood that it was no wonder he was concerned. “I’m just having an off week. Can’t be happy all of the time. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” Maverick rubbed my shoulder, expression staying solemn. “Sometimes the sun needs to rest behind the clouds. Honestly, it’s nice to see you being authentic for once. Maybe some sugar would help? How about a cookie?”

  He slid the platter I’d set out earlier closer to us, but I didn’t reach for it.

  “I don’t really like cookies.” I couldn’t be honest about what was truly bugging me, but if Maverick wanted to see me genuine, I might as well drop the mask a little further.

  “What? You bake them all the time.” Maverick sounded more scandalized than if I’d removed all my clothing right there.

  “For others.” I waved a hand. “People love them. I love making people happy. I’ll eat cookies, but they’re not my favorite treat.”

  Maverick did a slow blink. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard week, but I feel like I just met the real Adler for the first time. You don’t like cookies. What other secrets are you holding?”

  A lot. There was plenty I couldn’t share, but my brain refused to summon a dismissive response. Instead, words tumbled out of my mouth, one after another, long-suppressed truths.

  “I like cheap candy, like stuff meant for kids. I’ve had enough pasta-based dishes to last a lifetime. Cheese is overrated. So are beaches. Not worth the sunblock. I like buying expensive underwear and thrifty shirts. I’m not as into that pop band as the girls think.”

  “I’m taking notes.” Maverick nodded along with each item.

  “I’m done,” I said primly, pausing to catch my breath.

  “Nothing else you want to share, other than your highly controversial cheese opinion?” Maverick pressed.

  “Nah. That’s probably enough shock for one afternoon.” While my soul yearned to confess what was truly weighing on me, I wasn’t about to out Grayson.

  “Adler.” Maverick leaned in closer, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You can tell me about your bad week. You don’t have to always be the comic relief or super helpful. It’s okay to be you.”

  “I know.” My voice came out in the softest of whispers. “But some things are private. Should we get back to work? Or discuss your party prep?”

  “I’d rather hear about what’s making you sad.” Maverick was like Rory and Lorelei with a new toy, refusing to let me move on. “If something happened at the bunkhouse… Wait. Tell me you didn’t lose money to Motley.”

  “I didn’t lose money to Motley. The bunkhouse is great. It’s…” I trailed off. I wished I could spill everything, but I couldn’t. I did, however, let go of a tiny kernel of truth. “I guess you could call it a crush on the wrong person and leave it at that.”

  “Oh, Adler. You have a big heart.” Maverick gave me another pat. “Your guy is out there. I promise.”

  “I’m sure.” I was sure. I was also sure I’d found my guy in Grayson. I didn’t need a pep talk to keep looking, but I’d already said too much.

  “You just have to be patient.”

  “Yep.” I nodded tersely. That was exactly what I was trying to do. I’d figured if I gave Grayson enough space, deprived him of my nightly presence, he’d come around, but so far, that hadn’t happened. Patience had never been my best quality, but perhaps more time was required to move the mountain that was Grayson. “What flavor of cake did you request for the party?”

  “Okay, we can move on.” Maverick gave a disappointed sigh. “But for the record, I’m really relieved it’s not the ranch making you sad. I’m glad you’re staying and not simply because you’re my favorite employee.”

  “I won’t tell the others.” I offered a conspiratorial smile, this one genuine. Our friendship was real, as was my desire to be on the ranch. Grayson’s stubbornness couldn’t take that away from me. “And I’m glad I’m staying too. This feels like where I belong.”

  “You do belong here.” Maverick made his voice Grayson-levels of stern. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  “I won’t.” I meant the promise. I wasn’t going to let Grayson chase me off from a life I was coming to love. I needed him to understand that I wasn’t staying for him or even the potential of something together. I was staying for me.

  Later, after Colt had returned and Maverick had stopped fussing over me, I walked back to the bunkhouse. The flicker of Grayson’s porch light called to me, as did his nearby truck. I could go to him, and as on New Year’s Eve, he likely wouldn’t turn me away. But I deserved more. Hell, we both deserved more. Secrets were no way to live. I was done pretending scraps were okay when I wanted to feast. I was also done hiding behind a well-placed smile, happy to be what others needed. It was time to be the person I needed, regardless of what happened with Grayson.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Adler

  My resolve hadn’t wavered by Sunday morning, which dawned as cold and lonely as the rest of February had proven to be. Working with Maverick had been keeping me busy, but I continued to try to pitch in with barn chores. Besides, stall mucking was a good distraction from Maverick’s impending birthday party, Valentine’s Day next week, and my Grayson troubles.

  Of course it would be easier to forget the guy if he didn’t appear behind me right as I finished carefully changing out the bedding for Mama Fern and Winnie.

  “Need your help with something.” Grayson didn’t sound particularly thrilled to need me, which likely meant I was the only option around.

  “Of course, boss.” I kept my tone all-business, no tease.

  “Not your boss.” He reacted as tersely as I’d expected. “This way.”

  Grayson led me out of what I jokingly called the maternity ward, past Diamond Lil and Cinder, not stopping to admire the excellent mucking job I’d done on that row as well. His limp was more pronounced today. Was he sleeping well? Eating? I hated not being able to ask, hated feeling more like strangers than…whatever we’d been before. Friends? Lovers? Something. I swallowed back a frustrated sigh.

  He stopped at the end of the row near a stall that had been empty an hour ago. The new occupant was a tall caramel horse with creamy markings. A little on the thin side, same as Cinder had been.

  “Who is this?” I asked, stretching out a cautious hand to pat the horse. “Did Kat bring in a new rescue?”

  “He’s another rescue, yeah. I saw the post from the rescue organization and picked him up.” Grayson kicked at a nearby strand of loose hay.

  “For you?” I tried to read his downcast face, but he sure wasn’t making it easy. “You’re not replacing Diamond Lil, are you?”

  “Not for me. For you.” He continued to avoid my gaze, which confused me further.

  “For me? I pretty much just ride whichever horse is free or whoever needs exercise that day.”

  “I know, but a cowboy needs his own dedicated horse.” He gave a sharp nod, like this was a simple fact of nature and not a hell of a surprising gesture.

  “You’re giving me a horse?” My pulse sped up and my hands went clammy as I struggled to understand.

  “Appears that way.” Grayson’s tone was testy as if he didn’t care for all my questions. Tough. I couldn’t help my confusion, and I kept right on staring at him as he continued, “Thought about asking Maverick if I could buy Winnie, but it’s gonna be a long time before she’s ready to ride. This guy’s ready now. Didn’t come with a name. Feel free to do your pop culture worst.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m stuck on you giving me a horse.” No way could I gather enough brain power for horse names. I had no idea what to make of Grayson’s gift, especially not when he was acting like he’d rather be having any other conversation than this one.

  “My dad gave me my first horse. Said I’d shown I was ready for the responsibility.” Grayson set his jaw with even more determination than ever, rugged features sharp enough to chisel a granite mountainside. “I’d been riding as long as I could remember, but I felt like a real cowboy that day. Couldn’t drive or shave yet, but I felt grown.”

  “Sounds like a good memory.” I used a cautious tone. “So this is you saying I’ve proven my worth as a cowboy?”

  What I truly wanted to know was whether this was an apology horse or a consolation prize in place of the future I longed for, but I wasn’t sure Grayson himself had an answer there.

  “If you’re sticking around, it makes sense for you to have your own horse. You don’t want to be sharin’ Cinder with a bunch of noisy tourists.”

  I inhaled sharply at his if. I stiffened my spine. I couldn’t match his bulk, but I could look him in the eye. “Is this a way to make sure I don’t leave? You don’t trust yourself to be a good enough reason, don’t trust me to not run back to LA, but you’re willing to trust that the responsibility of a horse might keep me around? A bribe?”

  “It’s not a bribe.” Pursing his lips, he visibly bristled. “They have horses in the city too. Fancy-pants boarding facilities. He’s yours whether you stay or go.”

  “Gee. Thanks. Would you help me research stables?” I used my most sarcastic tone. “Come on. Seriously. You can gift me a horse, but you can’t bring yourself to admit you’d like me to stay?”

  “Of course I’d like you to stay,” he shot back, eyes going wide like the admission had surprised him as well. “But the horse is yours because you deserve a good horse.”

  “I deserve you.” I used my months of hanging around him to do a perfect imitation of his sternest voice.

  “What you deserve is someone a helluva lot better than a grumpy, broken-down foreman,” he countered, matching my firm tone, expression resigned like he’d already made up his mind.

  I made a frustrated noise loud enough to startle the horse next to me. “So the horse isn’t an apology?”

  “I screwed up.” Grayson locked his gaze on his upturned palms as if he might find the right words there. “Not up to me to decide whether ranch life is for you. You have to make that call. I saw the horse listing and thought of you. Simple as that. Not trying to get back in your pants. Just trying to say you’re a damn fine cowboy, and I misjudged you.”

  Well, those were a lot of words, some of them pretty, all of them maddening. So close. He’d come this far. Why not go for broke?

  “You could.” I made my voice light. Maybe flirty would work where sternness hadn’t.

  “Could what?” He sounded as confused as I’d been a few moments earlier.

  “Try to get in my pants.” I trailed a fingertip down the front of his shirt. “It might work.”

  “Not sure that would be the best thing for you.”

  “How about the best thing for you?” I raised my finger to his chin, forced him to meet my eyes and see how damn serious I actually was. “Quit underselling yourself, Gray. You’re what I want, need, and deserve.”

  He snorted. “Ha. You deserve what Maverick and Colt have. Romance. I don’t got a romantic bone anywhere in my body.”

  “Bullshit. You just bought me a whole-ass horse.” I might be too frustrated at his insistence that the horse wasn’t to win me back to swoon at his feet, but that didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate the gesture.