Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)(25)

And I know why. Because Charlie Montgomery’s a different man than the one I knew six years ago. Gone is the scowl. The darkness. The drink.

Six years ago, Davis and I had taken charge of trying to coax Charlie out of a drunken stupor. I brought a pot of chicken noodle soup; we made him eat and then put him to bed. Davis and I sat in the hallway outside Charlie’s bedroom on opposite walls.

“Thank you,” Davis said raggedly.

“Food fixes everything.” I wiggled my bare toes at him. “Your brother will be okay, Hotshot.”

“I mean it, Dakota.” He looked across the hallway, wrapped a huge hand around my ankle, and gave it a squeeze. His very touch seared. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Warmth in my stomach unfurled. I waited for him to stop touching me, but he didn’t. Instead, Davis traced coarse fingertips over my bare leg. Then he gripped my ankle and pulled me toward him like a slow lasso of want. And then I was there. In his arms. And he kissed me.

That night, we went from friends to lovers.

There was no stopping us. I thought he was the most handsome man I ever saw.

Still do.

My jaw drops even further when Charlie picks Ruby up to carry her over a puddle of melted snow. She’s glowing and laughing and Charlie can’t stop touching her.

“He’s obsessed.”

Davis snorts. “Doesn’t come close.”

He’s right.

Charlie Montgomery is a man long gone.

There’s barely enough time for me to close my mouth before Charlie’s stepping up to me. Snow and gravel crunch beneath his boots. “Hey, Dakota,” he says, wrapping me in a stranglehold of a hug.

“Careful of the arm,” Davis orders.

“Charlie, hi.” I squeeze him back, fully aware Davis is watching us with a guard-dog gaze. But I relish the hug. These cowboys are like brothers to me. They never have and never will scare me.

When I pull back, I take a second to study him. Dark hair mussed, beard trimmed and neat, expression tranquil instead of moody. I squeeze his shoulder. “You look good.”

“You too.” Charlie grins, but I don’t miss the way his gaze dips to my cast. The pity in his eyes.

The pretty girl steps up to me. A hat with a fuzzy pom covers her strawberry-blond hair. “Hi,” she chirps and pops out her hand. Her light blue eyes sparkle, a striking contrast to Charlie’s deeper blue. “I’m Ruby!”

“Hi, Ruby. Nice to meet you.” I shake her hand, already sucked in by her vivacious energy. Her infectious smile does something twisty to my insides.

The wave of sadness hits suddenly. Suffocating. I try to keep a smile on my face, but it feels wobbly.

I wish I looked like that. I used to look like that.

Charlie, Davis—everyone’s got their lives together. Everyone but me.

I’m a mess.

Charlie tugs Ruby’s hat lower over her ears. “We’re headed for a ride, but we wanted to come say hi.” His eyes land knowingly on Davis, then flit back to me. A gesture that tells me Davis told his brother everything. “We’ll see you around, Dakota.”

“Bye.” Ruby waves at us, and then Charlie’s taking her small hand and leading her across the gravel drive to the barn.

“Bye,” I echo.

Seeing them go has the crushing weight of my situation bearing down on my shoulders.

So much of my life feels like it’s gone forever.

Joy. Security. Love.

Not that I can afford to think like that. There will be no more following my heart. I have to make wise choices for me and my baby.

“Dakota?” Davis peers down at me, a frown marring his brow. “You okay?”

“I have to go into town,” I say abruptly, ignoring his question. “I have a doctor’s appointment.”

Tensing, his gaze bounces to my belly. Once again, that same pained expression crosses his face. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know, Davis,” I grit out. Weary, tired, vibrating with bitterness. “I’ve never done this before.”

His nod is firm. “I’ll take you.”

Heat consumes my face. “Davis, I can—”

He holds up his hand—all rippling muscles and a perpetual scowl—ending my argument. “Let’s get one thing straight, Dakota.” The deepness of his voice intensifies. “Here and now. I go where you go.”

“Fine.”

Turning away from him, I stare into the rising sun until my eyes go blind. My heart pulses angrily against my chest.

One more day. You can make it through one more day.





The town that used to be my home is now a stranger. It’s a different place. Just like I’m a different person.

“Where’s the deli?” I ask Davis as we walk up the street to the clinic.

Main Street is quiet in the afternoon light. A Bobcats banner blows in the chilly winter air as I try not to concentrate on the fact our fingertips keep brushing during our in-sync lockstep. The brief contact does something unfair to my heart. A soft, barely there touch of skin. It’s enough to have electricity sizzling up my arm.

Davis clears his throat. “Turned to a ski shop last year.”

“I remember doing this with you,” I muse, taking in a soft pink sign that says The Last Bookshop on the Left. “Showing you around Resurrection when you first got here.”