One Night with a Cowboy - Sara Richardson Page 0,8

used to the military families she worked with walking on eggshells around her. “I understand. Every time they come home, the dynamic changes.” She knew that better than she could say. When her husband had been away serving overseas, she’d have these idyllic fantasies about what things would be like when Dylan came home from a deployment. She’d picture family time and him playing with the kids in the yard and kissing her before they fell asleep in each other’s arms every night.

But then when he actually got home, reality would set in. She and Dylan never seemed to know how to act together. She wanted to spend time with him. He always wanted to go out with the guys. When he was home, he would snip at them for the smallest things. Instead of playing with the kids in the yard, he would obsess over the grass, over the house. That’s why everything around here was so perfect. Because it seemed to be all Dylan had cared about. Her training had told her his withdrawal from the family was more than irritation. He’d seen a lot of combat, and it had to affect him. More than once, she’d brought up the idea of counseling or getting some help to process everything he’d experienced, but he always refused and told her she didn’t know what she was talking about.

When discussing his behavior hadn’t worked, she’d tried to give him space, but the weeks would turn into months, and he only ever seemed to get more miserable instead of less. It had gotten to the point where she couldn’t wait for his next deployment.

Guilt tightened her chest once again. She shouldn’t even be thinking those things with Dylan dead, let alone saying them out loud to someone else.

“I know you understand.” Kelly pulled out a stool and sat across from where Thea carefully dusted the powdered sugar over the soufflé. “How did you do it?” she asked. “How did you and Dylan manage to have such an incredible marriage with all the separation?”

The question rocked her at the very center of her being. People had seen her and Dylan’s marriage the way she’d wanted them to see it—the way she’d wanted to see it. We didn’t have a marriage. We were on the verge of a divorce. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Thea turned to take the sifter to the sink and to escape Kelly’s gaze. “All any of us can do is our best,” she murmured. Had she done her best?

That was the question that would always haunt her.

Chapter Three

Thank. God. For. The. Mountains. Thea gazed steadily out the front windshield of her Volvo SUV, wondering what on earth had possessed her to think a road trip was a good idea.

“You got to pick the music for like an hour now,” Ryan whined at Olivia from the backseat. “It’s my turn! I want to play some songs!”

“I’m older.” Liv gave her little brother a smug smile over her shoulder. “That means I have more privileges than you.”

“You’re both about to lose all kinds of privileges,” Thea muttered in a tone meant to encourage a little self-reflection. Once again, her optimism had gotten the best of her. When they’d set out on the highway thirteen hours ago, she’d envisioned them playing games and singing while they took in the scenery through New Mexico and Colorado. Instead, her two angelic children had argued about everything—from where to stop and eat to how cold or how hot the car should be. When they weren’t arguing, their eyes were glued to tech screens—Thea to her phone and Ryan to his iPad. So much for quality time. Next time, they were definitely flying.

“We’re almost there,” Thea said before Ryan or Liv could ask. After all, it had been a good eight minutes since someone had voiced that question. “The ranch is just in front of those peaks.” They couldn’t see it yet, but Silverado Lake was nestled into a lush valley at the base of the mountains. She inhaled deeply, remembering the beautiful blue water that gently lapped at the shoreline, the evergreens and pines and aspens reflected on the glassy surface. “I can’t wait to see Jane.”

Though they’d been coming to the ranch since the year before Dylan had passed away, it had been years since she’d been able to spend any time with her college roommate. Mara, Jane’s mother, had always been the one to welcome groups from Project Sanctuary,