Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 Maisey Yates (sad books to read .txt) 📖

“Report for work first thing on Monday,” Cricket said. “And bring a sleeping bag. I don’t have any extra and the bunkhouse gets cold.”

She did not shake his hand. Instead, she clamped down on that unlit cigar, scrunched up her nose, grabbed the brim of the black cowboy hat and tipped it.

And right then, he vowed that no matter that Cricket had won the pot, he was going to win the whole damn thing.

Whatever that looked like.

* * *

“You what?”

Cricket looked at Emerson, keeping her expression as sanguine as possible. She wasn’t going to get into the details of any of this with her sisters. Not now. Not just yet.

“Well, you would have known if you would have gone.”

“I’m a whale,” Emerson said, gesturing to her nine-months-pregnant stomach. “And my ankles were so swollen, I couldn’t get my shoes on. So I didn’t go.”

“And I didn’t tell her,” Wren said, grinning. “Because I wanted her to hear it directly from Cricket’s mouth.”

“I won him in a poker game,” Cricket said. “I won him fair and square, and now he has to come work on my ranch.”

Triumph surged through her again. Her plan was working out perfectly, and she had a handle on it. All of it.

“Your ranch.”

“And I won a pony,” Cricket said, grinning with glee. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because,” Emerson said. “Jackson Cooper is a tool.”

“So is Creed Cooper, but Wren married him.” Cricket’s teeth ground together as she said that. The whole thing with Wren and Creed had come as a shock, and like with all things Cooper-related, Cricket had kept that shock completely to herself, but she was still struggling with it a bit. “Come to that, your husband is kind of a tool,” Cricket said to Emerson. “Just not to you. Also, I’m not marrying Jackson, I’m just having him work for me. For free.”

She was practiced at pretending she didn’t think much of Jackson. But this conversation pushed her thoughts in strange directions. Directions she’d been actively avoiding for months now.

“All right, I have to hand it to you, it’s a little bit brilliant.”

“I’m just happy to see you’re doing something,” Wren said. “Unfortunate double entendres aside. We’ve been worried about you.”

“I know you have. For more than a year now. But you are both too afraid to say anything to me.”

They didn’t know how to talk to her. That was the truth. They might never admit it, but Cricket knew it. Fair enough, she often didn’t know how to talk to them either.

“We never know what’s going to make you run further and faster,” Emerson said. “I’m sorry. But you know… You’re not a little kid anymore. But I think it’s easy for us to think of you that way. There’s no reason for that.”

“Glad to know that I’m finally getting a little respect.”

“I did question your sanity when you asked to take on the ranch.”

“It’s paid for. I mean, there’s definitely a lot of work to be done on it, but there was no reason to just let it sit there going to seed. And this is something I’ve always wanted. My own place. Wine isn’t my thing and it never has been. I know you’re shocked to hear that.”

“Yeah, not so much,” Emerson said.

“We’re just different,” Cricket said.

Honestly, she and her sisters couldn’t be any more different if they tried. Emerson was curvy—though sporting an extra curve right now—and absolutely beautiful, like a bombshell. Wren was sleek and sophisticated. Cricket had always felt extremely out of place at Maxfield events. It was like her sisters just knew something. Innately. Like being beautiful was part of their intrinsic makeup in a way it would never be for Cricket. And she had never really cared about being beautiful, which was another thing that had made her feel like the cuckoo in the nest.

So she just hadn’t tried. Emerson and Wren had. They’d tried so hard to earn Jameson Maxfield’s approval. Cricket had hidden instead. Had flown under the radar straight into obscurity.

She could remember, far too clearly, asking her father about college four years ago.

“You didn’t particularly apply yourself in school, did you?”

“I…”

“What would you want to do?”

She’d been stumped by that. “I don’t know. I need to go so that I can figure it out…”

“Emerson and Wren contributed to the winery with their degrees. Is that what you plan to do?”

There had been no college for Cricket.

She knew her dad could afford it. It wasn’t about the expense. It was about her value.

Both of her parents had always been so distant to her. And it wasn’t until later that she’d started to understand why.

Started to suspect she was not James Maxfield’s daughter…

Well, the suspicion had made her feel like she made some sense. That her differences made sense. There were things that hurt about the idea, and badly. But she’d put those things in their place.

She’d had no choice.

“I appreciate it. I do.”

“And whatever you think about our husbands,” Emerson said, “they’re both cowboys, and they would be happy to help you with the ranch.”

“I know that. And when I’ve exhausted my free Cooper labor, I may take them up on it. But for now, I’ll solve my own problem.”

“Well done, Cricket,” Emerson said, sounding slightly defeated. “I can’t even see my toes.”

“You’re not supposed to,” Wren said.

Wren’s baby was three months old now, and of course, her slim figure had already gone right back into place. But even slightly built Wren had been distressed about the size of her stomach at this stage in her pregnancy.

It was weird to see her sisters so settled in domesticity. Having babies and all of that. They had never seemed particularly domesticated to Cricket, but they had fallen in love, and that had changed them both. Not in a bad way. In fact, they both seemed happier. Steadier and more sure of themselves. But that didn’t make any of that racket seem appealing to Cricket.

Who just wanted…to be free.

To not feel any