Indigo Ridge (The Edens)

One morning spent in a rocking chair, and the world had shifted. Like going for a ride and veering off the main path to get a look from a different angle, and then discovering that the trail you’d been on was lacking in every way imaginable.

I was in it with this woman.

So fucking in it.

The shift had happened weeks ago. Or maybe there’d been small turns along the way. Yesterday, during the annual Quincy activities, I’d realized just how different life would be with Winn. The Fourth had always been fun. Busy, but fun. Except I’d struggled to relax and enjoy the day.

I spent most of my time searching for her, finding her in the crowd at various events. When I spotted her at the parade, walking up and down the sidewalks, her expression was one of concentration and awareness. Once the street sweeper passed, she disappeared, probably back to the station, and it took effort not to call and check in.

Instead, I rushed around to help my siblings. Knox needed a hand at the restaurant for the lunch rush, so I stopped at The Eloise to haul in supplies. There’d been a ninety-minute wait for a table—which hadn’t seemed to turn many people away.

I left Knox hustling around his kitchen, in his element and exactly where he wanted to be, then headed to the coffee shop because Lyla had been slammed too. Some asshole had clogged one of the toilets, so I plunged it, then cleared the overflowing garbage cans.

It was all hands on deck for the Eden family. Dad was the gopher, running around town to the hardware store or the grocery store for whatever anyone needed. Mom and Talia were helping Lyla behind the counter making coffee. Mateo was at the hotel, working with Eloise to make sure guests were taken care of for the sold-out weekend.

As the community migrated off Main and to the fairgrounds, my family managed to get together. We gathered in our family’s regular seats for the rodeo. The coffee shop was closed. So was Knox’s restaurant. Eloise’s staff at the hotel was on duty, so we could come together for a few beers and hot dogs.

The Quincy rodeo was a standing tradition, much like Christmas or Thanksgiving. It was one of the few events we always made sure to attend together, even if that meant closing shop. Except that evening, surrounded by my family, a piece was missing.

I hadn’t realized until late in the evening, when I’d glanced across the arena and found Winn at the fence, that the missing piece was her.

Another shift.

She belonged by my side, not standing alone.

Especially not yesterday.

I wished I had known about her parents. She’d probably worked all day yesterday as a distraction. Today, if all I could do was keep the distractions coming, then I’d bust my ass to make it happen.

“Your hair dryer is nicer than mine. I might have to steal it,” she said, coming down the hallway from the master bedroom.

After we’d come inside from the rocking chair, I’d taken her to the bedroom for a couple of orgasms before hopping into the shower. While I’d dressed and come to the kitchen to brew coffee, she’d gotten ready too.

Normally she went home to shower. Not today. Today, she wasn’t leaving my sight.

“The hair dryer is Talia’s doing.” I chuckled and handed her a steaming mug. “Sometimes my sisters will crash here if we have a family function at the ranch. Saves them from driving into town if they’ve gotten into my parents’ liquor cabinet. Talia decided that since they’re the only people who use the guest bedrooms, they might as well have stuff here to get ready the next morning.”

Winn sipped her coffee. “That’s sweet that you let them stay.”

I shrugged. “I’m a lot like my dad when it comes to my sisters. Twisted around their little fingers.”

“Also sweet.”

“How about eggs for breakfast?” I walked to the fridge. “Bacon or sausage?”

“Either. Can I help?”

I shook my head and took out the sausage. “Have a seat.”

She slid into a stool at the island, watching while I made a quick scramble. With it plated, I sat beside her, the two of us eating quietly. I wasn’t one to talk much when there was food in front of me. I liked that she didn’t either.

Wait. Was this the first meal we’d shared? I stopped chewing and glanced at her profile.

“What?” she asked, grabbing a napkin to wipe her lips.

“We haven’t eaten together before.”

“There was lunch my first day at work.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Then, no, I guess we haven’t. We usually skip the dinner dates and go straight for the bed.”

Sex had always come first. But it felt like we should have been sharing meals for weeks. That I should have taken her out on a proper date, like dinner at Knox’s restaurant or my favorite steakhouse outside of town. “Maybe we should toss in a dinner date.”

She held my gaze for a minute, like she was trying to decide if I was teasing.

“I’m serious.”

Her eyes softened. “Okay.”

“How about we do some exploring today?” I asked after we’d both finished eating.

“Sure.” She nodded, motioning to her clothes. They were the jeans she’d had on last night and one of my black T-shirts, which dwarfed her, so she’d tied it into a knot at her hip. “Do I need to run home and change?”

“You’ll be fine. Have you ever ridden a horse?”

“No.”

“Want to learn?”

“Not especially.” She smiled as I laughed. “Maybe one day.”

If and when that one day came, I’d teach her. “We’ll do another kind of ride.”

So after our breakfast dishes were in the washer, we set out for the barn.

“How about a four-wheeler? Ever driven one of those?”

“Another no.”

“Want to ride with me? Or drive your own?”

She eyed the machine as I filled the gas tank. “Ride with you.”

“Good answer.” I straddled the seat, patting the back for her to climb on behind me. Then I started the engine and set out on the road.

We rode for an hour, following old trails around the ranch. Winn’s arms stayed tight around my waist, her head resting against my shoulder at times, as the sun warmed our skin and the wind blew her hair off her pretty face until I came to a stop along a fence.

“This is the far end of the ranch,” I told her.

“This is all yours? From here to your house?” She pointed toward the direction that we’d just come from.

“And a bit beyond.” I pointed left, then right. “This is the center point. How long we just rode? It goes twice as far in both directions.” The Eden ranch was essentially a rectangle that stretched along the base of the mountains in some of the best country under God’s blue sky.

“Are all ranches this big?”

“Very few.” I stood from the seat, climbing off the machine to walk to the fence where a small cluster of wildflowers was tangled with the stalks of grass. I plucked a white one and a yellow one, bringing them to her. “We’ve expanded over the years. Bought new property.”

“Like the one next to Indigo Ridge.”

“Exactly. After a few generations of buying when land comes available, now we’ve got one of the largest ranches in this part of the state.”

“It’s beautiful.” She pressed the flowers to her nose. “Thanks for taking me out today.”

“Welcome.” I propped a hip on the edge of the four-wheeler, looking out over the pasture. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this. Just driven around. No task in mind.”

“It’s been a long time since I didn’t fill a day with work of some kind.”

“What about in Bozeman? What did you do there to relax?”

“Hung out with friends. Did some hiking around the area. I had a vegetable garden one summer. Skyler ruined that one for me though.”

“How did he ruin it?”

“He complained that it was too time consuming. That instead of having our evenings free to meet up with friends or go to a movie or whatever else he wanted to do, I liked to stay home and work in the garden. Maybe I’ll put one in at my house here. Not that I have a lot of free time.”

“Maybe by this time next year you will.”

“Yeah.” She smiled and lifted the flowers to her nose again. “Maybe.”

“Have you heard from him?” I asked.

“No. His phone calls stopped, at least I think. I forget to charge that phone all the time. But I haven’t had any messages to talk about us or the house. I think his visit here was the end, but you never know with him. He can be unpredictable, which is part of why I stayed with him for so long. He’d act distant and rude for months. I’d swear we were done. Then it was like he knew I was about to call it off because he’d become this entirely different person. He’d make me laugh. He’d be affectionate and caring. When I look back over our eight years together, it was like living in a constant state of whiplash.”

He sounded like a manipulative dick but I swallowed that comment because I suspected that Winn knew it already.

“He knew my parents,” she said. “That’s the other part of why I stayed with him. Because they knew him. Or I guess I should say that he knew them. Anyone else and they would just be photographs and stories. And they would have been a stranger to my parents. That’s not a great reason to stick with someone but . . .”

“It’s understandable.” It was the reason why I hadn’t brought anyone home to my parents. Because there hadn’t been anyone I’d wanted to give them memories about.

But Winn . . . maybe it was time to take Mom up on her offer and take Winn over for dinner.

“Why’d you end it?” I asked. “You never told me that night he was at your house.”

“He was sleeping with someone else.” She huffed. “I found out because she called the house looking for him. Can you believe it? She thought I knew because her husband knew.”

“She was married?”

“Yup.” Winn popped the word. “Apparently they’d made this arrangement. Sex only. Her husband was good with it, but Skyler must have known that I’d say fuck no, so he’d hidden the affair.”

“Prick.”

“Pretty much,” she muttered. “I’m just guessing, but I bet she dumped him and that’s why he made his visit.”

“He thought you’d take him back?” Idiot.

“Skyler got away with a lot. He must have thought that eventually I’d forgive him. That eventually I’d pick a wedding date. I don’t know. After my parents died, I pushed him away. He didn’t pull me back.”

Because he was a fucking idiot.

“It hurt,” she said, twirling the flowers between her fingers. “We’d made a lot of promises together. Eight years is a long time to live your life around someone. But then I realized that we lived around each other, not with each other. I couldn’t count on him. The promises crumbled. When I started peeling my life away, making it my own, there weren’t many threads to untangle. The house is all that’s left and that’s simply paperwork.”

At the moment, I was thinking of tangling her up so tight she’d never get free.

“It worked out the way it needed to,” she said. “I’m glad to be here in Quincy.”

“I’m glad you’re here too.” I stood, returning to the seat and the handlebars. The moment I was settled, Winn’s arms wrapped around me and the insides of her thighs pressed to the outsides of mine.

She fit me. Perfectly. In more ways than just riding on a four-wheeler.

“Keep going?” I asked over my shoulder. “Or head back to the house?”

“Keep going.”

I grinned, glad she was enjoying this, and started the engine.

Another hour later and the sun was beating down on us. We’d worked our way past Indigo Ridge, crisscrossing through pastures and bouncing from one fence to the next. The ridge was behind us and the only reason I’d come this far was to show her one more edge of the ranch so she could get a better idea of the size.

The backside of the ridge was a massive rise, the hill covered in evergreens. But on the flats, there wasn’t much shade. Without a hat, I worried she’d get sunburned, so I aimed the wheels for home.

I slowed at a gate, ready to get off and open it for us, when I glanced up to the forest and saw a plume of smoke rising from the treetops. It was in about the same spot as Briggs’s cabin. “What the hell?”

It was July. Fires in July were not only unnecessary but goddamn dangerous.

“What?” Winn asked, following my gaze. “Aren’t there fire restrictions right now?”

“Yeah.” I turned the four-wheeler around, and instead of heading home, we tore through the landscape toward my uncle’s cabin.

Winn clutched me tight as we wound through the trees and up the road. The scent of charred wood and campfire reached us as we crested the climb and pulled into the cabin’s clearing.

Briggs was standing beside a pile of burning pine limbs, smoke billowing from its center. The orange and red flicker of the flames tickled the open air, sending sparks on the breeze.

I parked and flew off the four-wheeler, racing over to my uncle. “Briggs, what the hell?”

He had a shovel in one hand. A hose in the other. “Harrison? What are you doing here? Didn’t even hear you pull up.”

Harrison? Fuck. I yanked the shovel from his hand, slammed the end into the dirt, stepped out a scoop and tossed it on the flames.

“Hey! I’m—”

“Trying to burn down the whole fucking mountain.”

“It’s a slash pile burn. It’s under control.”

I ignored him, shoveling as quickly as I could. Then I snatched the hose from his hand, dousing the fire. Steam hissed and popped as it broke through the pile.

A small cough made me turn to see Winn behind me. “What can I do?”

I handed her the hose.

“Who are you?” Briggs asked her. “Harrison, who is this? What the hell do you think you’re doing with another woman? Does Anne know?”

“I’m Griffin, Briggs. Griffin,” I barked. “This is Winslow, and you’re in her way. Move.”

He flinched at the volume in my voice and shied away.

Damn it. At my age, Dad and I would have looked nearly identical. I should be patient. I should take it easy. But a fire in July? We waited until the dead of winter when there were two feet of snow on the ground before we burned slash piles.

The rumble of a truck’s engine came from the road, and Dad’s pickup skidded to a stop beside the four-wheeler. He flew out the driver’s side, running our way. “What’s going on? I saw smoke.”

I waited until he was close enough to throw him the shovel, so pissed off I could barely see straight. “Talk to your brother. He thinks I’m you.”

Without another word, I grabbed Winn’s free hand and pulled her away from the hose. She followed, silently climbing on the back of the four-wheeler and holding on as I sped down the road and away from the cabin.

“Goddamn it.” I shook my head, my heart racing.

Winn’s hold tightened. She’d heard me.

We rode straight for home. I parked in the barn, letting the quiet settle after I killed the engine. Then I hung my head. “It’s getting worse. I didn’t want to believe it. Yesterday, he was so . . . normal. At the parade. At the rodeo.”

Briggs had seemed exactly like the man I’d known my entire life. He’d gone around town with Dad to help for a while. He’d been at the rodeo arena, talking to his buddies and drinking a beer.

“He was so normal that I thought maybe I was blowing this thing out of proportion. Maybe I’ve been taking it too far. But . . .”

“You weren’t.”

I shook my head. “Something has to change.”

And either my father would push for that change, or I’d have to do it myself.

“I’m sorry,” Winn whispered, dropping a kiss to my shoulder.

I twisted, taking her face in my hands. Those indigo eyes seared into mine. They saw the fears. The doubts. The frustration. They gave me a place to put it all. A place to just . . . be real.

She’d told me this morning that I carried burdens. I did. But right here, in this moment, she was there to help share the load.

I dropped a kiss to her lips, then helped her to her feet. “We smell like smoke.”

With her hand clasped in mine, I led her to the house and straight to the bathroom, where I turned on the shower. We stripped out of our dirty clothes and stepped under the spray like two people who’d showered together a hundred times. Easy. Comfortable. And as the soap cascaded over our bodies, the smell of the fire and the stress of my family disappeared down the drain.

My hands found Winn’s wet skin at the same time her lips found mine. The desire for her swirled with the steam, and when I lifted her into my arms, pressing her back against the tiled wall to slide into her silky heat, nothing else in the world mattered.

No drama. No family. No fire.

Just Winn.

We came together with shaking limbs and frenzied moans, lingering until the water ran cold.

She yawned as I handed her a fresh towel.

“Tired?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Want to try and sleep?” Because I could use a nap myself. Our conversation in the rocking chair felt like days ago, not hours.

“I don’t know.” She met my gaze in the mirror and the fear behind them was like a punch to the gut.

I stepped close and took her face in my hands, my fingers threading through the wet strands of hair at her temples. “I’ll hold you. If you have a nightmare, I won’t let go.”

Her body sagged and her forehead fell into my chest. “Okay.”

With a swift move, I picked her up, cradling her to my chest. Then I retreated to the bedroom, setting her in the unmade bed and drawing the blinds.

She fell asleep first. I wouldn’t let myself sleep until she was under. And as I listened to her breath even out, I sank in with her.

Deeper and deeper. She pulled. I followed.

It had happened so naturally, this fall into Winn. Like I was out for a short drive, and when I looked back to where I’d started, instead of traveling yards, I’d gone miles.

Deeper and deeper, until there was no turning back.

I was in it with this woman.

So fucking in it.