Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Mason is quiet for a moment, then presses a kiss to the back of my neck.
“My dad was cut from the same cloth,” he says. “Hard man. Believed the only way to raise strong sons was to break them first. If we showed weakness, if we cried, if we failed, we heard about it for weeks. Sometimes longer.”
He lets out a slow breath. “Brookes and I got real good at taking care of each other. After Dad finished with us, we’d sneak into each other’s rooms at night. Climb into the same bed and tell stupid stories until we fell asleep. Made the bruises hurt a little less.”
My heart aches for the little boys they once were and the sister I never had but would have loved.
“What about your mom?” I ask softly.
“She was gentler,” he says. “But she never stood up to him. Now he’s passed, and she’s in a care home with dementia. We visit when we can, but the ranch doesn’t stop demanding our time. Some days I feel like shit about it. Like, I’m not a good enough son.”
The guilt in his voice is so familiar it makes my throat tight.
“I know that feeling,” I whisper. “I’m terrified I’m going to disappoint my mom so badly she’ll never forgive me. That this baby will create a fracture in my family that can’t be fixed. I’m her only daughter. All her hopes are pinned on me. I struggle with knowing that she’s the main reason I am where I am. I’ve strived so hard to meet her demands, and I’ve built a good life for myself. I should be more grateful”
Mason tightens his arm around me, pulling me even closer.
“You can’t build your life around her disappointment, Janey,” he says firmly, but gently. “You’ll never be free if you do. You have to make the choice that’s going to make you happy. Forget your mom and society. Just focus on you.”
I wish it were that easy, rather than heavy and terrifying. I wish I could shrug off the yoke and live my life the way I want to. But what would that even involve? I’ve spent so long shaping myself to meet her design that I’ve forgotten who I am along the way.
We lay together in thoughtful silence for a while, his hand still resting protectively over my belly.
Eventually, I sigh. “I should go back to my own bed. I don’t want Brookes to feel left out.”
Mason presses another slow kiss behind my ear. “He won’t mind. But I get it.” His voice drops, warm and sleepy. “This door is always open, sweetheart. Any night you need us, you come find us. No hesitation.”
I reluctantly slip out of his bed, already missing his heat and reassurance. In Mason’s arms, the world doesn’t feel as complicated. Before I leave, I lean down and kiss his cheek softly.
“Thank you, Mason,” I whisper.
“Anytime, darlin’,” he murmurs, already drifting back toward sleep.
I tiptoe back down the hallway, the wooden floor creaking beneath my weight, and quietly slip into my own room once again.
The big guest bed still feels too wide and too empty. But after talking to Mason, my heart is less lonely.
Chapter 14
Brookes
The sky is still a soft gray-blue when Mason and I head out to the barn for morning chores. My eyes are bleary, and my face is still damp from washing, and Mason seems equally tired. Janey’s pregnancy and her presence are weighing on both of us.
Dew clings to the grass, and the air smells clean and sharp. I like this time of day, before the sun gets mean and the ranch hands start showing up, when it is just me, my brother, and the animals waking up around us.
We work in comfortable silence for a while, tossing hay into the stalls and checking water troughs. Even so, I can tell Mason’s mind is burdened. He moves more slowly than usual, as if he's chewing on words he hasn’t decided how to spit out yet.
Finally, he straightens and rests one arm on the stall door. “Janey came to my room last night.”
I pause mid-throw with hay still in my hands. “Yeah?” I keep my voice even. “She okay?”
Mason nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Couldn’t sleep alone. Climbed in behind me and wrapped herself around me like she was trying to disappear into my back.” A small, soft smile crosses his face. “We talked for a while. About her family. Her mom especially. Sounds like the woman’s been riding her hard her whole life. Nothing Janey does is ever quite enough.”
I lean against the wall and listen. Part of me is glad that Janey felt safe enough to seek comfort from one of us. Then comes the sharper feeling underneath it. Jealousy, small and ugly and unwelcome because of course, I wish it had been me.