Marry Me for Real, Cowboy - Valerie Comer Page 0,43

a wayward bronc. “I’ll listen to the message and call her back.”

If only he could go back in time and pray that day turned out differently. But if he could do that, he’d also pray his dad’s cancer away. Accepting the ways of life and death was brutally hard at times.

Riley’s presence registered by the scent of her shampoo as she stepped up beside him. “You okay?” Her hand rested gently on his arm.

“No.” He shrugged her away. “I have to make a phone call.” He strode into the office, shut the door, and sank into the swivel chair with his head in his hands.

Why, God? Why take Ace? Why didn’t You answer our prayers? It wasn’t just Adam who’d prayed. Ace’s mom. Sawyer Delgado. Others. Was this to punish Adam for forgetting his friend’s plight for hours at a time? For finding comfort in Riley’s presence and kisses? For lying about her?

God wouldn’t be so cruel. He didn’t take people for a friend’s misdeeds. Adam hadn’t caused the accident, though he’d benefitted from it. That stupid trophy languished beneath his bathroom sink behind a stack of towels. He never wanted to look at it again. He had not won that thing fair and square. It was forever marked with Ace’s blood.

Now his own life was in pieces. He’d blown it with Riley somehow last weekend, something to do with Scotty Erickson. He hadn’t figured out exactly what, but it didn’t even matter. Riley was taking her cues from him. She’d been after some money and a place to hide out for a while. That’s what he owed her. That’s all she wanted. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The rest was an act, just like he’d requested. She was good at it. A career in Hollywood awaited her if she cared to turn her attention in that direction.

The phone sat on its charger staring back at him. He tapped the code to retrieve the message and listened to Mrs. Desjardins’ broken message.

It was true.

Ace had gone on to his reward. His story was over.

Adam punched in her number and waited while it rang.

“Adam? You got my message.”

His voice choked. “Yeah. I did. I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too. I’m trusting God knows what He’s doing.”

“I’m trying to.” How was it that Ace’s mom was comforting him? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? “Listen, if you tell me when his funeral is, I’ll do my best to be there.” He hadn’t thought that through, but he’d still go. Declan would have to understand. So would Riley.

Mrs. Desjardins shared the details she’d already determined and said she’d be so grateful if he came. She’d love to see him again. Him and Sawyer.

Sawyer.

Adam hated making that call nearly as much. This all seemed so final, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He punched in Sawyer’s number, half hoping he could leave a voicemail, but no. His buddy picked up.

A few minutes later he and Sawyer had made plans to fly out of Missoula for Ace’s funeral. Adam got online, bought the tickets, and sent the info through to Sawyer’s email. His friend would reimburse him, no problem.

Ace’s accident replayed in Adam’s mind. He bent over the desk and cradled his head in his arms. Ace had lived as big as he could. That hadn’t always been a compliment, but Adam and Sawyer had done the same. Lots of women. Lots of swagger. Lots of media attention. They’d lapped it up, but they’d been talking recently, realizing they’d made a mess of things. Vowing as brothers to change and hold each other accountable.

Then Vanessa had dropped her bomb. She was pregnant, and she was going to make Ace pay.

A few minutes later Adam had ridden a solid 82, easily one of his best scores of the season. Good enough to beat Sawyer’s average. Good enough to challenge Ace’s best. He’d socked Ace’s shoulder. “Beat that.”

With his usual good humor, Ace had laughed in his face. “Easy as stealing candy from a baby.” Then he’d slid onto Cramer’s back in the chute, marked out, and shot out the gate to his destiny.

He’d lasted all of three seconds before Cramer made an insane series of jumps. Ace’s head cracked against the horse’s rump in a hollow thud Adam would never forget. Ace slid to the dirt, and Cramer turned on him. Sharp hooves pummeled Ace’s body before the pick-up cowboys could intervene and drive the bronc to the gate.

The arena was absolutely, horribly silent as the