Billy caught up with him, and Jace felt like punching him.
“We gotta talk about Thanksgiving,” Billy said. “We were scheduled in Nebraska, and I’ve pulled out.”
Thanksgiving. As soon as Billy said the word, he knew what was coming next. Crested Butte. The whole family. Not just his family and Billy’s, but Bree’s family too. Which meant Bree would be there.
If he thought he was miserable now—he’d be willing to take the bulls and broncs to Nebraska alone to avoid spending Thanksgiving in Crested Butte.
It was like a damn Disney movie, being around all of them. He and Bree would be the only two people there who weren’t happily married, with at least one child between them and others on the way. It made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it.
Bree would be there, wouldn’t she? As much as he prayed she wouldn’t be, the other part of him, his heart, prayed she would be. He knew, down to the day, how long it had been since he’d seen her. Did she? Did she think about him at all? Or had she moved on?
The last he’d heard, she’d be teaching at the Air Force Academy. That was before the school year started, but he didn’t have any reason to believe she would’ve done something different. If she had, he wouldn’t have known. No one talked to him about her. And he didn’t ask.
There was one other person he longed to see as much as he longed to see Bree. He hadn’t seen Cochran since September. He’d been on the road, and had missed his first birthday.
He could’ve gone, but that would’ve meant Billy and Ben would’ve had to be on the road at the same time, and Jace didn’t want them to have to be.
Bree had been there; his mother showed him the pictures. She looked good. In every picture, she had a smile on her face. In most, she was gazing at Cochran, and he could see the love she had for their nephew. But he saw something else: the haunted look. He’d seen it before, back when she first got word that Zack had been killed in action. It would creep in at other times, when she was lost in thought and he knew she was thinking about her husband.
Was anyone paying enough attention to notice? Was Blythe, or her parents, or Lyric? Was Bree haunted in silence? He hoped not.
What was he doing? Why did he always make his way back to worrying about her? She didn’t need him. She’d made that clear. And here he was, the idiot who thought he saw something in her eyes that no one else did. She’d get a kick out of that. He had no idea how he would face her on Thanksgiving, after her dismissal of him the last time they were together.
Bree was glad Tucker op
ened the back door when he saw her coming. Her arms were full, and she didn’t want to set any of the packages down in the snow.
“Can you believe this weather?” he asked when she got inside.
“It’s either ninety degrees or snowing. Autumn in the Rockies, right? Have you heard whether Monarch Pass is open?”
“Last time I checked, it was, and the weather is supposed to get better, not worse.”
“There’s Aunt Bree,” said Blythe, staying close to Cochran, who ran to his aunt.
He started walking right after his first birthday and spent most of his time either falling or bumping into something. He probably wouldn’t have as many scrapes and bruises if he’d walk. Instead, he ran everywhere he went. Tucker laughed about it, but it wasn’t Tucker who bandaged up the majority of his boo-boos, amidst heart-wrenching tears.
Bree scooped him up and showered kisses all over his little face, which made him giggle and kiss her back.
“Bwing pwesents?” he asked, eyeing her packages.
Bree sat him down on the floor. “There might be a couple for Cochran, but the rest are for Caden and Willow, okay, baby boy?”
He nodded his head and studied the pile of packages with awe. “Fow Caden and Willow,” he repeated, a little pout forming.
Bree set the other boxes aside until she unearthed one with Cochran’s name on it and scooted it in his direction.
“This one is for you, sweet boy,” she smiled at him.
“Open?”
“Yes, you can open it.”
Blythe started to intervene, but Tucker put his hand on her arm. “You know how she is, let her be,” he whispered.
Bree looked up at them and was relieved to see her sister and Tucker smiling at her. She loved spoiling her nephew, and would have been devastated if they told her to stop.
“Look, Mama,” said Cochran. “Dada twactah.” He pointed to the green miniature of Tucker’s John Deere tractor. He climbed on and rode it around the kitchen.