The Heart of a Cowboy. Trish Milburn

a tough way of life, but he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. And that didn’t always appeal to women. Part of him could understand. Unless ranching ran in your blood, who would want to volunteer for a life where a drought or an illness in the herd could wipe you out?

      They’d very nearly lost the ranch once in those dark days after his mother’s death, when his father had been consumed by grief and they’d been slammed with a severe drought nearly at the same time. The stress of losing the love of his life and then almost losing his means of supporting his children had been palpable. Garrett was determined that his father would never be that close to the mental or financial breaking point ever again. Not to mention, if Garrett ever did marry, he wanted the ranch to be a successful enterprise he could hand down to his children as well as any nieces and nephews who might come along.

      “You’ll find someone,” Chloe said as he guided her around Liam and India Parrish, yet another couple Verona had been instrumental in pairing up. “I have faith.”

      She might but Garrett wasn’t so sure. Considering he was already thirty-two, that possibility didn’t look too good.

      As the party started winding down a few minutes later, he leaned over to give his sister a kiss on the cheek.

      “I’m going to head out. Have fun on your trip.” Since Chloe and Wyatt had yet to go on their own honeymoon, they were going on the same Caribbean cruise as Owen and Linnea.

      “Thanks. I’ll be sure to bring you some tacky, touristy T-shirt.”

      He laughed a little. “I’ve been needing a new grease rag for when I work on the trucks.”

      She gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, go on before I tell Verona that you’re dying to find a wife as soon as possible.”

      Garrett handed her off to Wyatt. “Your wife is evil.”

      “I know, but she’s cute.”

      He left one starry-eyed couple only to walk toward another, maneuvering through the crowd to Owen and Linnea. He playfully punched Owen in the shoulder as he had countless times before.

      “I’d tell you to have a good trip, but I doubt there’s a need.”

      Owen grinned. “I’m already there in my mind.”

      Not wanting to think about what images were swirling through his brother’s head, Garrett pulled Linnea into a hug. “Don’t let my brother fall off the boat.”

      Linnea smiled as she stepped back from him. “Oh, I plan to have him wear a life jacket anytime he leaves the cabin.”

      Their dad, who was standing nearby, momentarily choked on the bite of cake he’d just taken. Garrett had to admit the image of his brother sitting down to a fancy dinner in the ship’s dining room with a big orange life jacket around his neck was pretty darn funny.

      After making his final goodbyes, he made his way outside. The lack of sound as he stood on the edge of the Wildflower Inn’s parking lot made him realize just how noisy it had been inside. For the first time in several hours, he felt as if he could truly breathe. He’d rather be alone out in the middle of the ranch than in the midst of that many chattering people.

      Even so, as he got into his truck and drove off the lot, the idea of going home to an empty house didn’t appeal to him. Maybe he’d run down to the Blue Falls Music Hall and see who was playing tonight. If he was lucky, being in the familiar, less formal environs would help him forget how the seed of loneliness inside him had evidently been watered and fed a healthy dose of fertilizer.

      * * *

      NATALIE BARELY HAD time to pull over on the side of the country road and get out of the car before throwing up what little she’d been able to eat since leaving Wichita that morning. The closer she’d gotten to Texas, the more ill she’d felt. When she’d driven through Blue Falls a few minutes before, her out-of-control nerves had her seriously considering making a U-turn and driving back to Kansas. She’d lost count of how many times she’d gone back and forth in her mind about if she could go through with telling the Brodys the truth, whether she should.

      Her stomach tightened again as she held on to the bumper of the truck and dry heaved. Only through some deeply buried force of will did she bring her stomach into submission. She stood shaking for a couple more minutes until she was fairly certain her insides wouldn’t stage another revolt. Then she slowly walked back to the driver’s door, which was standing wide open, and reached inside for a bottle of water. She washed out her mouth and spit onto the edge of the asphalt before digging in her luggage for mouthwash. She followed a full minty rinse with a few more swishes of water.

      After shoving the bottle of mouthwash back into the bag, she leaned against the side of the truck and took several slow, deep breaths. She lifted her gaze to the huge expanse of dark sky peppered with stars and a sliver of moon. A rush of anger bubbled up inside her that her father had put her in this position, puking on the side of a road she barely remembered from her childhood, mere minutes away from dropping a bomb in the middle of the Brodys’ lives.

      She didn’t have to do this.

      Yes, she did. Never in her life had she failed to keep a promise. Even before she consciously knew what she was doing, something inside her had decided that she would be the total opposite of her dad in that regard. He’d made so many promises—to quit drinking, to get another job and keep it this time, to earn enough so they could take a real family vacation that wasn’t a weekend of tent camping at the state park a half hour from their house.

      Natalie closed her eyes as she rested her head back against the cool metal of the truck. No matter how many times her father had disappointed her, there was one promise he’d kept. To always love her, Allison and Renee with all his heart. If she’d ever doubted that love, that doubt would have been erased by the look in his tired eyes as he’d wept mere moments before dying. He knew, soul deep, that he’d let them all down repeatedly. She’d seen the fervent wish that he’d been a better father, a better husband, a better man.

      That look and her own love for him in spite of everything was why she was here in the middle of Texas. Since the night her father had asked her to deliver his apology, she’d not gotten a full night of sleep, had been able to eat only enough to keep functioning as she helped her mother deal with the funeral arrangements and laying her dad to rest. The anxiety had built over the past week until she knew she had to get this trip over with so she could begin to live normally again.

      She filled her lungs with another deep breath and tried to steady her nerves as she slid back into the driver’s seat. Exhaustion weighed down every cell in her body as she pulled onto the road. She knew she should wait until the next day to go see the Brodys, to try to get some sleep first, but if she had to wait another day to divulge her father’s secret, she thought she might explode.

      Her GPS guided her the rest of the way to the Brody ranch. When she turned into the gravel drive, she hit the brakes. She’d crossed this point so many times when she’d been a kid, and happy memories were attached to each visit here. But all of those memories were about to be poisoned by the purpose for her return.

      She pressed her hand to her forehead, feeling the warm flush invading her skin. With a shake of her head, she gradually released the brake and drove the rest of the way up to the house. As her lights cut across the front, revealing two basset hounds lying at the top of the steps, she remembered sitting on those same steps with Chloe playing Go Fish as Chloe’s mom sat in the rocking chair shucking corn from her garden.

      But even knowing that she had to get the revelation over with, she still sat in the truck for a couple of minutes after parking and cutting the engine. She’d spent more than nine hours on the road. That should have been enough time to prep herself. Still, as she looked toward the front door she’d walked through countless times, she had to corral every speck of willpower she possessed to finally slip out of the truck.

      Her feet moved slowly, the sound of her shoes on the walkway magnified by her anxiety. She found she barely had the strength to climb the steps, pausing halfway up them to pet the two hounds. When