Home > A Rogue Cowboy's Second Chance(2)

A Rogue Cowboy's Second Chance(2)
Author: Stephanie Rowe

He didn't have to look up to know who it was. He recognized the gait of all eight of his brothers and sisters. He'd trained himself to do that back when they were homeless kids, hiding under the bridge in the dark. It had been imperative that he knew who was coming, so that he would know how to keep those under his care safe.

The habit remained today, even though they were all adults and no one was after them, trying to drag them back into foster homes, or worse. "Hey, Keegan."

His brother spoke without preamble. "Did you sleep last night? At all? Your light was on all night."

"You stalking me?" Brody set the lightweight, high-tech shoe on Stormy's foot to test the shape. Most horseshoes were steel. A few racehorses used aluminum. He'd experimented on a lightweight, durable plastic compound. It was too expensive to ever become popular, but he didn't care about money.

He cared about his horses. And his innovations had saved Stormy's feet.

"No." Keegan leaned against the wall, his booted feet in Brody's line of vision. "Just keeping an eye on my bro." He let out his breath. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing new." Brody lined up a high-tech nail and tapped it through the shoe and the outer rim of Stormy's hoof. "It was a false trail." Although only nine of the under-the-bridge kids had stuck together, taking the last name of Hart and claiming legal status as a family, a number of others had gone through their pack during the five years Brody had held them together.

After one of the women had been murdered a few years ago, Brody had made it a point to track down everyone he could find and make sure they were all doing okay. He'd located most of them, touched base, and helped out where he could. But there were a few he couldn’t find, and he wasn't planning on resting until he found them all. He thought he'd found one of the girls, but he'd run into a dead end last night.

Keegan sighed. "We're all adults now, Brody. It's not your job to continue to hold us all together."

Brody shrugged. "It's not a job. It's what I do."

"I know. But you don't need to be the guardian of everyone anymore."

Brody finished securing Stormy's shoe and set her hoof down. He stretched his back as he turned to face his brother. Keegan was wearing a dusty cowboy hat, faded jeans, and a loose flannel shirt. His short blond hair was neat, and his blue eyes blazed with the warmth that was a hallmark of every Hart.

Keegan looked like a working cowboy, not one of the Hart billionaires who had gotten lucky with security software when they were teenagers. The world saw his family as billionaire celebrity recluses. Brody saw his family as the only people who mattered to him, real people who were all still fighting to escape the childhood that had sent them running for their lives to hide out under a bridge as kids.

The shadows still ran deep for all of them. But the family they had formed had given all of them the safe space they needed, no matter what demons crawled out of their pasts after them. The Harts had a rule, one Brody had made when they were all under the bridge: no one could hold out. Emotions had to be shared. Secrets had to be revealed. No one carried their burdens alone.

It was why they'd survived, and why the Harts were thriving now.

Which was why he answered Keegan's question. "Every night I go to bed, I see Katie Crowley's face. I wonder what I could have done to save her. If I hadn't let her go to Boston—"

"Stop." Keegan held up his hand. "You have to stop that shit. You're not a god, Brody. You never had the right to tell any of us what to do or how to live. Those who stayed chose to stay. Those who chose to leave were following their paths. However it turns out isn't your fault."

"But she's dead—"

"Yeah, it was shitty. You don't need to tell me that. I think about her, too. But she died years after leaving us. I hate to tell you this, bro, but you aren't responsible for the entire lives of every person you've ever met."

Brody scowled at him. "She's dead."

"And the rest of us are alive." Keegan put his hand on Brody's shoulder. "We're all here, Brody. Eight of us, plus you. Several hundred if you include the Stocktons, now that Hannah married into their family. Katie was Hannah's sister, but Hannah fought to find a life again, happiness, and a family. Learn from her. Let yourself be happy, Brody. That's what you're always telling us."

"I know." Brody shoved his cowboy hat back from his head and wiped his wrist over the perspiration beading on his brow. "It's different for me. It's my job to hold everything together."

"Yeah, well, not if it wrecks you." Keegan lightly punched Brody in the shoulder. "Family meeting tonight, bro. You're the topic. I just thought I'd warn you."

Brody frowned. "Why me?"

"Because we all think you're turning into an old shit, and you need to get a life." Keegan grinned and ducked when Brody tossed a rag at him. "Seriously. You better come in your party pants or you're going to get your ass kicked. We're tired of your crap, old man."

Brody laughed, his spirit already lighter. "Who's house?"

"Bella's hosting tonight."

Bella was the older of the two Hart sisters. She was the chef at the guest portion of their ranch that was for high-end guests seeking a dude ranch vacation. "Is she cooking?"

"She is."

"Well, damn. I wouldn’t miss it if she's cooking."

"You wouldn't miss it anyway." Keegan tossed an envelope at him. "By the way, this arrived this morning by personal courier. Looks important so I opened it."

Brody took the envelope, which was, indeed, torn open. He didn't care. He had no secrets from his family. "What is it?" As he asked, he noticed the grin on Keegan's face. He stopped. "What?"

"Open it."

Brody shot Keegan a suspicious look, then slid his fingers into the envelope and pulled out a small white envelope with his name on it. That envelope was also open. He lifted the flap and saw it was a concert ticket.

Covering the name of the performer was a yellow sticky note. Someone had jotted in purple pen, "Personal invite from Tatum. She hopes you'll come."

He froze. "Tatum?"

"Tatum," Keegan confirmed.

Brody ripped the sticky note away and saw Tatum Crosby listed as the headliner for the concert. His seat was row one. Behind the ticket was a backstage pass. "The concert's tonight in Portland," he said, scanning the details.

"I saw that. You can't go, obviously. Family meeting and all."

Brody couldn't take his gaze off the ticket. Tatum Crosby. She'd swept through his little group when she was seventeen, a brilliant flash of fire, passion, and energy. She'd stayed for a summer.

A summer he'd never forgotten.

And then he fucked up, she'd left, and she'd never spoken to him again. He'd kept track of her, though. Watching her ascent to the realization of her dreams. "This can't be from her. She'd never invite me."

"Is it her writing?"

"No." She'd left Brody a note when she'd taken off. A note he'd kept for a long time as a reminder of how badly he could fuck up if he wasn't careful. A reminder that had helped keep him focused on being the protector that all those in his care had needed.

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