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“No.”
“Can you say more than one word at a time?” She realized how childish she sounded, but she didn’t care right now. Her hopes of ever talking about Forest with this friend of his were dying a quick death.
“Yes, I can.”
“Holy shit. That’s three words. I’m stunned.”
He snorted.
Silence stretched on for the twenty minutes more it took to reach the long dirt drive and metal gates with the Gracey name arching above them.
“This is the ranch.”
When he didn’t respond, she braked hard. The action rocked her forward in her seat, but Colton didn’t seem to budge. Her eyes narrowed on him, and all of the annoyance she felt with him for this entire ride burned like vitriol on her tongue.
“You knew my brother. How did he die?”
He turned his head slowly and pierced her in his dark, dark gaze. Those eyes…they sparked with danger and were wired with explosives. She got the feeling that if she made one misstep, a single look from him wouldn’t just wound her—it would end her.
“He died because of me. I’m the reason your brother is dead.”
Chapter Two
Colton’s revelation should keep Meadow away from him. As annoying and immature as she was, she clearly wasn’t stupid.
Now she would know enough to stay away from him.
With his heavy bag in hand and his rucksack slung over his shoulder, he strode toward the impressive barn. The siding was black with a pristine fence enclosing what he guessed was a corral on the side and more fencing that separated pastures for cows.
A few men were out working on a piece of heavy farm equipment, but not many. Not enough workers for a property this big.
The main house looked like a huge cabin built for royalty. The log siding was where the rustic aesthetic ended, though. The front door was modern, and the thick beams supporting the porch were painted black to match the barn. A wide porch wrapped around the side. From here, he spotted a grouping of chairs to while away lazy days.
Lush green fields stretched out from all sides and ran straight up to the purple foothills in the distance. Beyond that sat the mountain range Forest had talked about so much.
It felt like stepping into a memory that didn’t belong to him.
As he watched the men, one dropped something. The loud clanking noise made Colton’s chest seize.
Instinct kicked in, and he almost reached for a rifle on his back that wasn’t there.
He dropped his hand. This wasn’t battle. No one was shooting at him. He was on a ranch in the Montana mountains.
The patter of boots on the ground behind him made him toss a look over his shoulder. The little blonde spitfire rushing to catch up to him brought a sigh to Colton’s lips.
What could Forest’s little sister want? Nothing good, he was sure.
He lengthened his strides, and she jogged faster. When she grabbed his arm, he stopped. She stood close. So close that a jolt of awareness rolled through his groin and reminded him that he was a man who hadn’t been laid in several months.
She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and sky blue, fringed with dark lashes that seemed devoid of mascara. Which surprised him.
Colton didn’t like surprises.
This woman—young woman—was not for him.
He shook her hand off his arm.
“What you said about Forest—”
