Close Enough to Touch (Jackson Hole 1)

“Cole,” Easy said, one syllable that chastised him for talking back like a child.

Cole heard the scolding in that word and shook his head. He set the head of the rake on the floor and steadied his arm against the handle. When he finally looked at Easy, Cole saw the same man he’d known his whole life. Worn and silver-haired. Small-boned but tough as nails. Nobody had ever given Easy anything. He’d worked for every damn thing he owned. Worked since he was six years old and left with a sick mom and no father.

Cole’s own father had been a good man, but he’d been hard. Yet somehow still run over by life. Easy, on the other hand, had an inherent strength that had never turned brittle. It seemed as though he could make things happen by sheer will alone. Easy and Cole’s father had met at twelve and been friends from then on. Both good men. Both good cowboys. But Cole’s dad had been a bitter ranch hand who’d owned nothing more than his boots and his saddle when he’d died from a heart attack at age fifty-two. Anything else that had ever belonged to him, including Cole’s mother, had been lost somewhere along the way. Even Cole hadn’t been around.

He swallowed hard at that memory. It still made him sick. He’d been out in L.A. with people who didn’t know him and didn’t give a damn. His dad had died alone.

As for Easy, Cole had always thought he’d known Easy as well as he knew his own father. Better, even. But now—hell, he had no idea what he knew anymore.

They stared at each other. “What?” Cole finally asked.

“You want to tell me why you’re so mad?”

He laughed, but the sound was pure anger. “You must be kidding. You’ve basically told me you think I might be a weak, frightened coward hiding out in the mountains from the things that scare me most.”

“I said I’m afraid you—”

“Yeah. I get it. You’re afraid I’m not the man you hoped I’d be. You’re not sure. Fine. That makes me feel better, Easy.”

“That’s not how it is, Cole!”

“Then tell me how it is. Because right now, it feels like a big pile of shit, and I’m not talking about the muck in this stall,” he snarled, tossing the rake on the ground, where it bounced and banged before settling. “A test to see if I’m a real man, huh? To see if I’m worthy of filling your shoes? You should’ve made this easier on yourself. You should’ve listened to my dad from the start. Then you wouldn’t have had any doubt.”

His words fell into silence. Cole felt his cheeks flush and looked away from Easy’s calm stare.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about it,” Easy finally said. “Your dad was a good man.”

“I know,” Cole said heavily, rubbing a hand over the ache in his chest. “I know that.”

“But he was wrong about you, Cole. You were a hard worker, but you were still a kid. You deserved to take a little time to find your way in the world.”

“I let him down, Easy. And I let myself down, so don’t tell me he shouldn’t have been disappointed. He was a good man, and I—”

“He was a good man. And he was scared to death. He didn’t like seeing this place turn into a playground for rich folk. He watched them change things. He watched them come and go through here, and he was afraid one day you’d go with them.”

Cole pressed his fingers into the ache under his breastbone. “And that’s just what I did.”

“You were gone for all of two months, Cole. That’s a summer vacation.”

“It was long enough to break his heart.”

“You didn’t—”

Cole cut his hand through the air. “I don’t want to talk about this, Easy. I know what happened.”

Easy glared at him, jaw set in a stubborn line. But Cole could be stubborn, too, when he wanted. He met Easy’s glare with his own. Finally, Easy sighed and shook his head.

“Fine. We’ll talk about that later. The bigger issue here is that I don’t want you to throw this opportunity away.”

“What opportunity?”

“That last time, you loved working on that movie.”

Even after everything else, this shocked the hell out of Cole. He felt his jaw drop. He laughed in complete shock. “Are you crazy? Opportunity? To work on a movie? What are you talking about? I’m a cowboy, Goddamn it!”

“You have been, yes. A good cowboy. A great hand. A man to be proud of. But you need to consider the worst here, Cole. Your leg—”

“My leg is fine,” Cole snapped.