Rough Stock (Lost Creek Rodeo #3) - Heather B. Moore Page 0,75

she began to chatter about Brighton’s condition and how she was moving in with her.

But Silvia wasn’t paying much attention, because Westin was looking at her with those mooning eyes again.

“Did you sleep okay?” he whispered.

“I did,” she whispered back. “How are your ribs?”

“They’ve been better,” he said. “But since you’re not letting me touch you, that saves me a lot of physical effort there.”

She held back a laugh. “Yet you’re making breakfast and doing laundry? You should be sitting down, or even laying down.”

“I’m fine, darlin’.”

Silvia sighed and grasped his arm, pulling him toward the table. “Sit down, Westin Farr. I’m taking over now.”

His lips twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”

And she did. She finished cooking the last of the “Farr Special,” set the table, poured juice into glasses, then found several types of hot sauces. She felt Westin’s gaze on her the whole time while her mother chatted away.

“Mom, we’re ready,” Silvia said.

“I need to go,” her mom said into the phone. “Let me know how everything goes with Mary’s delivery.” She hung up. “That was Bev. Her daughter is due any day.”

“That’s great, Mom,” Silvia said. “What time will Axel and Brighton be here?”

“Soon,” she said. “Axel said he was packing things for her at his place.”

The washing machine stopped down the hall, and Westin began to rise from his chair. But Silvia placed a hand on his good shoulder. “Stay. I’ll get it.”

“You should eat,” he said.

She held his gaze. “You should eat. I’ll be right back.”

His mouth quirked, and she held back a smile as she headed down the hall and switched the bedding into the dryer, then started it.

Just then, someone knocked on the front door. When she made it back down the hall, her mom was welcoming Brighton and Axel inside in a flurry of hugs and kisses. “Come in, come in. Westin made us brunch, and there’s plenty for everyone.”

Axel’s gaze connected with Silvia, but she couldn’t read his expression. She stepped forward and gently hugged Brighton. She looked pale, but her smile was broad.

“Thanks for coming last night, even though I was a sleep,” Brighton said. “I can’t believe you flew all the way home.”

Silvia shrugged. “I was happy to. Now, come and eat. I’ll grab you some plates.”

Westin had already stood and greeted Brighton with a handshake. Brighton threw a significant look at Silvia, which she ignored.

While setting the other plates and dishing out more food, she mouthed to Westin: Sit down.

He did, and while they ate, her mom said, “We can move the television from my room into Brighton’s. I don’t watch it much, and I don’t want her to get too bored.”

“Oh, I have my laptop,” Brighton said. “I’m not cutting back on my work hours.”

Brighton used to be an airline stewardess, but after marrying Axel, she switched careers so she could travel to most of his games. She worked for a small advertising company that focused mostly on women’s health products.

“I insist,” her mom said. “Do you boys mind helping with that?”

“No problem,” Axel said. “But I’m happy to buy a new TV.”

“You’re always so generous,” Mom said, “but this arrangement will work out.”

“So you’re a bull rider?” Brighton asked Westin.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Brighton looked intrigued. “What got you into that?”

“Grew up on a horse ranch in Oklahoma,” he said. “And my dad was a bull rider, too.”

Silvia blinked. She knew Westin was from Oklahoma and had assumed his family were some type of ranchers. But a horse ranch? She’d had no idea. He told everyone about his mom and sister, and then about the passing of his dad.

Just like the first time she’d met him, he didn’t hold back his thoughts and emotions. He was an open book, and she should have never doubted his sincerity when he’d told her about his communications with Axel.

Silvia realized her brother was watching her watch Westin. She quickly changed her focus.

After the meal, Silvia said, “I’ll clean up, and then get the bed put back together.”

Westin was at her side in a moment. “I’ll take care of the bed.”

“And the TV,” her mom chimed in.

“Of course,” Westin said.

Silvia spun to face Westin. “No. You’re sitting on the couch. I can help with the TV.”

Everyone in the kitchen went silent. Maybe her voice had been sharper than she intended. She looked over at the surprised faces staring at her.

“Westin was trampled by a bull last night, and he has two broken ribs,” she explained. If he wasn’t going to tell anyone, then she was. “I