Page 31 of Finding Peace
His gaze flicks to Beau’s face, then drops to me, tucked tight against Beau’s chest. His shoulders ease a fraction, and the tension he’s been carrying since Christmas loosens its grip just a little bit more.
I watch as relief takes over Jasper next. A silent gratitude when his gaze slides from me to Beau, just long enough to give him a single, firm nod. A “Thank you” for taking care of her.
Lincoln looks to me last, and it looks as if he doesn’t miss a single detail. That, even from here, he can sense what we did to defile his desk. Regardless, he exhales a soft huff thatmightalmost be a laugh. Beau chuckles back before he says, “So… Linc, don’t go to the barn in the morning before I have a chance to clean up. ‘Kay?”
Lincoln rolls his eyes, all while trying—and failing—to hide his smile as he takes a sip of the whiskey in his hand. “You have a desk up there, too, you know?”
Beau shrugs. “Yeah, but yours was closer.” He takes a couple more steps toward the stairs and yells over his shoulder, “Night, boys!”
I peek around Beau to see all three of them smiling. “See you all in the morning.”
Jasper winks at me, and Lawson replies, “See you in the mornin’, Honey.”
The warmth in my chest deepens as the three of them continue whatever conversation they were having before we got in here, their smiles never faltering as Beau carries me up the stairs.
Because not for a single second did any of them care that it was Beau. Because for them, it wasn’t about sex. Because for them all it was, was a resounding sense of relief.
Of affection.
Of…love.
Chapter eleven
Lawson
Thehouseisstillwhen I wake up.
Just that thin, quiet that settles in before dawn, when the world is getting its last bit of sleep before it has to rise to the challenge of a new day. And as I lay there, I quickly realize sleep is no longer my companion, no matter how hard I try.
So, I don’t fight it.
By the time I’m in the office, the sun hasn’t even thought about rising, and the only light comes from the desk lamp and the faint gray-blue glow creeping in through the window.
I’m one cup of coffee and five signatures in when my pen starts to feel just a bit too heavy.
Vendor invoices first. The feed supplier out of Billings with a late delivery credit noted in the margin in Lincoln’s handwriting. And checks for the weekend ranch hands. Next is insurance paperwork. Livestock coverage, equipment liability, and property. I scan all of thepaperwork automatically, muscle memory doing the work while my brain runs a parallel track that hasn’t shut off since well… ever. But even more so since Abigail was taken.
It’s all the kind of paperwork that is necessary. The kind that keeps the ranch alive. Lincoln flagged the pages that need my approval, neat and precise, like everything he does, but I can’t help but scan the entirety of the documents anyway. It’s my job. Not that I don’t trust my brother. He’s good at this. Too good, considering how much he hates it. Which is exactly why I make it a point to review everything just as he would.
I flip another page before dragging my hand down my face.
My brother loves his job. He loves what he does for the ranch. But he loves what Jasper, Beau, and I get to do more. I’m not too naive to recognize that he’d rather be on horseback, checking fence lines, working animals, or hell, even mucking stalls with the rest of us. Because, despite how incredible he is at being Lincoln Taylor, the lawyer, I know most days he just wants to be Lincoln.
And yet, he does his job. Every time.
Without complaint.
Because he has to.
I don’t tell him enough how grateful I am for what he does. I don’t tellanyof them enough.
Taking a sip of coffee, I let my gaze drift across the home office. This room may be new, but this desk has seen decades of decisions made for Willow Creek Ranch. Some good. Some bad. And some that cost blood and bone and things we never talk about out loud.
It’s a responsibility the four of us share, each of our roles having a tendency to feel heavier for the person who carries them.
Lincoln shoulders most of the burden from where I’m sitting now, and I don’t know how I’d keep this place running without him.
Or Jasper.
