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“Maybe if you visited more often, you would have known.” He winced at his gruff tone and the harsh words. The dig, while true, pricked him with shame. He’d been studying the Bible more, thanks to Gabby and Eden and their Tuesday meetings, and one of the concepts they were all working on was choosing not to be bitter.
It was hard.
“How bad is she?” Brittany stepped forward, seemingly unmoved by his rudeness.
“Nothing I can’t handle. If you’ll excuse me.” He pivoted, called to Noah and petted one of the cats before picking the boy up and marching straight outside.
He’d been taking care of Nan for a long time. Brittany didn’t need to worry about it. He’d take care of the elderly woman until the day she died. She was as close to family as he had. Without her, he and Noah would still have the Pages, but it wasn’t the same. Not for him, anyway.
Lately he’d been feeling like it was him against the world.
He thought of Ryder coming out this afternoon. For the first time since finding out he had a twin, Mason started to embrace the idea of having a brother.
“Do you need any clothes?” An hour later, Brittany sat on the living room floor folding the worn pants and shirts she’d taken out of the dryer. From the looks of it, Nan hadn’t been clothes shopping in years. She pulled another sweatshirt out of the basket. In fact, a lot of things Brittany had assumed about Nan were questionable, like her ability to live independently out here on her own.
Before arriving, she’d assumed her grandmother was fine, still able to drive and shop for herself, and she’d assumed incorrectly. Nan was not fine. And Mason could claim he’d handle it, but Nan was her responsibility. Not his.
As for Mason’s parting shot at her...
She sighed. He was right. She’d neglected Nan. Could her grandmother live by herself much longer?
“Did you say something?” Nan looked up from where she sat in the recliner. A game show blared from the television.
“Why don’t I take you shopping? I’d like to get you a new outfit.” She pasted on her brightest smile and stacked another shirt on the pile.
“I’ve got a closet full of clothes, honey.”
A closet full of outdated clothes that were too big. Maybe she could persuade Nan to go into Rendezvous and do a little shopping during the week. But did the small town even have a clothing store? She could always order a few items online.
After folding the final item, she rose and checked the time. It had been over an hour since Mason had left. Noah was the definition of adorable. He looked like his daddy. And that was a good thing.
Mason had grown more handsome since she’d last seen him. Broad shoulders, slim hips, muscular arms—he was all cowboy. His dark blond hair and caramel-brown eyes had always made her look twice at him. And the way her skin prickled with awareness when he’d been in the room earlier proved she wasn’t immune to the man.
But now he wore an air of resignation, and every word he said had a bite to it.
He’d changed.
Grown harder. Gruffer.
Losing his wife must have been devastating.
As Nan’s breathing settled to a soft snore, Brittany went to the kitchen to prep the fridge. It was stuffed with leftovers and rotting produce. Gross. She pulled out a trash bag and tossed the moldy and wilting food, then ran a soapy cloth over the fridge’s shelves. Much better. The two cupboards where Nan kept her dry goods were in decent order.
The sound of a vehicle approaching alerted her Mason was back. She debated her next move. Hide in her bedroom so he couldn’t hurt her with accusations she already felt bad about? Or stay here and take his barbs straight on?
She deserved them. She’d failed Nan.
All the summers with her grandmother stood in her memories like happy greeting cards ready to be picked up and opened whenever she needed cheering. She loved Nan, and although she hadn’t been able to spend much time with her in years, she wasn’t going to let her down now. Not with her health declining.
Brittany opened the front door. Mason held brown paper bags in each hand, and Noah lugged a plastic bag as if it weighed a hundred pounds.
“How much more is there?” she asked.
“Another bag and the pellets for the water softener. I’ve got it.”
“I’ll put these away.” She took one of the paper bags from him, and her hand brushed his. Awareness zipped through her, and a lump formed in her throat. This man—this stranger—had been her best friend most of her life. And now they couldn’t even have a civil conversation.
His cheeks grew pink and he hustled back outside.
“Where does this go, Miss Bwittany?” Noah let his bag drop and wiped his forehead as if he was exhausted.
“What’s in it?” She willed her emotions back into place and gave the boy what she hoped would pass for a smile.
“Toiwet paper.” His lisp was so cute.
“Hmm...” She tapped her finger to her chin. “Where should we put the toilet paper?”
“The bathroom?” He took one of the handles and dragged the bag down the hallway as she set the milk and cream in the fridge. He ran back to her and peeked into the bags. “Can I help?”
“Sure.” She pointed to the crackers and cookies. “Why don’t you set these in the cupboard over there?”
He grabbed the cookies, threw open the cabinet door, tossed the package on top of canned vegetables and repeated the process with the crackers. Then he made a production out of wiping his hands. “Now what?”
Mason walked between them with two large bags of salt pellets on his shoulder.
Noah followed him to the basement door, then ran back to Brittany. “I don’t like it down there.”
She bent down to Noah’s eye level. “I don’t, either. It’s dark and creepy.”
“Yeah. Cweepy.” He nodded, his expression a mixture of fear and excitement.
“Are you getting ready for Christmas?” She folded the paper bags.
“Yes! I’m getting presents! And Daddy’s taking me to Christmas Fest!”
“He is?” She motioned for him to follow her to the table. “What’s Christmas Fest?”
“Cookies and reindeer and an ice rink!” He climbed onto a chair on his knees.
“Well, that sounds like fun. I might have to check it out.”
Mason’s boots stomped up the steps. He looked at Noah. “Ready to go, buckaroo?”
“I wanna stay.”
“We need to get our own groceries home.”
Noah yawned, and Mason helped him put his coat on, then scooped him into his arms.
“Thank you.” Brittany held the door open for them.
“Tell Nan I’ll be over on Monday afternoon.”
She blinked. “How often do you stop by?”
“Every day but Sunday. I’d take her to church, too, but Lois Dern insists on picking her up.”
For once there wasn’t any animosity in his gaze. Just the truth. And the truth hurt. He’d been taking care of Nan all this time, and Brittany hadn’t even known Nan had needed help.
“I see.” Her voice sounded as small as she felt.
He arched his eyebrows but didn’t say a word. Then he carried Noah, who waved at her, down the steps to his truck.
She did see. And she didn’t like the picture.
Mason had taken over Nan’s care. His disdain for Brittany came through loud and clear.
Like most guys in her life, he’d decided she was all about herself.
Maybe she was.
They never seemed to understand that she had almost no free time and hadn’t in years. Working multiple jobs and scraping pennies to have her own studio might be selfish, but it didn’t make her a terrible person.
It looked like more changes to her life would need to be made. Nan was too important for Brittany to just leave her here without knowing she’d be safe. Mason might check on her in the afternoon, but what if Nan fell in the middle of the night? Got sick? Stopped paying her bills? Or grew more forgetful?
Was it time to look into assisted living?
Or...she supposed she could move Nan to California to live with her. Her head hurt at the thought. The logistics of it overwhelmed her.
She had time—a couple weeks—to figure out Nan’s care.
What would be best for her grandmother?
Chapter Three (#u8af6b2d2-9db1-5cd0-b040-8f261759659b)
One question had been gnawing at him since finding Ryder on his porch last night. Which of them had been born first?
Mason strode beside Ryder down the path to the stables. Thankfully, Eden had offered to watch Noah for him. He’d briefly filled her in on the situation when he dropped Noah off after putting away the groceries. Eden, Mia’s younger sister by three years, still lived with his in-laws. Bill and Joanna had gone Christmas shopping, allowing Mason to avoid having the twin conversation with them. They wouldn’t be put off for long, however.
“Okay, now that you’re here,” Mason said, “I have a burning question.”
“Shoot.”
“When were you born? Which one of us is older?”
Ryder barked out a laugh. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. One of us is the big brother, and one is the baby. It’s time we found out.”
“My birth certificate says I was born at 5:43 a.m.”
Ryder grimaced. “Mine says 5:54 a.m.”
“I guess that means you’re my little brother.” Mason slapped him on the back. “By eleven minutes.”
“And I guess it means you’ll be rubbing it in forever.”
“I guess it does.” It didn’t seem quite as bizarre to think of the man beside him as his brother anymore. He hitched his chin toward the stables. “You sure you want to ride?”
“I’d love to. I miss it,” Ryder said. “I grew up on a sheep ranch in southern Montana.”
“Sheep, huh?” Resentment between sheep ranchers and cattle ranchers had been simmering since the West had been settled. Both fought for grazing land, and both begrudged each other for it. Pops had never had a good thing to say about sheep ranchers.
He took a closer look at Ryder. His clothes were typical Western wear, but they were high quality, as were his expensive boots and hat. “You aren’t still ranching?”
“No.” He matched Mason’s strides under the brilliant blue sky. “My grandparents got out of it when I was eleven. We moved closer to the city because Granddad needed medical care. Cancer took him a few years later.”
Cancer. How he hated the disease that had stolen Mia from him. “Pops inherited this land along with the cow–calf operation and passed it down to me. Are you still living in Montana?”
“No. Moved out to California for college. I’m in the Los Angeles area. For now.”
They reached the stables and Mason slid open the door. Dim light and floating dust motes greeted them as he led the way to the tack room. After hauling gear out, they saddled two quarter horses.
“Feels good to be out in the wide open again. It’s been a long time.” Ryder patted the neck of Rookie, one of Mason’s favorite horses, as they rode toward the frozen-over creek. “I was torn about coming over, but this makes it worth it.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about last night.” Mason hadn’t put much thought into how Ryder might be handling having a twin. When had he gotten so self-absorbed? “It was a shock.”
“For me, too. Finding out about you...well... Life has been chaotic lately.” Ryder shrugged and nudged Rookie forward. Mason, riding Bolt, fell in beside him. “I’m glad you called this morning.”
Mason was, too. And he knew all about chaos. Change had never been easy for him, and the past couple of years had been downright terrible. Noah had been the only thing worth waking up for besides the ranch. Mason would keep it running, even if it got to the point where he had to thin the herd further or let go of his extra ranch hands. He’d give this land to Noah someday.
“What do you do in LA?”
“I’m a CPA, and I do financial planning, as well.” Ryder glanced around, taking in the hills. “Sometimes I miss this—outdoor living. My girls would love it out here.”
“Twins, right? How old did you say they were?”
“Three and a half.”
“Huh.” That was a weird coincidence. “Noah is, too. When’s their birthday?”
“March 24.”
“Whoa-ho-ho.” Mason shifted in his saddle as Ryder slowed Rookie. “That’s Noah’s birthday.”
His eyes widened. “You mean they were born on the same day?”
“Just like we were.” It seemed impossible. Yet he looked at his spitting image riding next to him and realized it was possible. Anything was, really. Suddenly, Mason wanted to know everything about this man. “I had appendicitis in the third grade.”
“Me, too. January. Right after Christmas. I was glad to miss school.”
