Wow. I shut my mouth.
He slowed his pace a fraction. “I don’t like having to say this kind of thing, and you know I think the world of you as one of my employees, but I’m gonna have to get personal here for a bit. My sons mean everything to me, and Matty… he can come off cold sometimes, but when he loves? He loves deep. He’ll take care of you and that little girl of yours.”
“I don’t need him to?—”
Gray’s voice firmed. “He will take care of you and Ivy. Because that’s the kind of man I raised him to be. To love, protect, and fight for family. And he’s decided that you’re his family, Hudson.”
I swallowed hard. “He’s my family too.”
“Then there’s only one thing I have left to say.” His hand landed on my shoulder, gripping tight. “I had no idea howmuch he cared about you before and what your breaking up did to him. But I know now that he’s madly in love with you. And this morning, he’s been the happiest I’ve seen him in years. That’s because of you. But you also can make him the most miserable man on this earth, so for God’s sake, I beg you, please don’t hurt my son.”
The words sank into me like a weight and a warning. I knew exactly what he meant. How it felt to see your kid light up because of someone, and how quickly that light could be snuffed out. I’d kill for Ivy’s happiness. I’d kill for her safety.
“I won’t,” I said. The promise settled deep in my chest like a vow I already knew how to keep. Because I did. I’d already let Matty down once, and never again.
He gave a small nod. “Good. You take care of him the way he takes care of you, and everything will be fine. Now let’s go wrangle some yearlings, son.”
That last word hit harder than I’d expected. My throat burned as I fell into step beside him. The Magnuson men were too kind for their own good, and I couldn’t take advantage of that. Regardless of what Gray said, it wasn’t Matty’s duty to take care of me and my daughter. I had to do everything I could to get out from under my debt.
25
MATTY
The kitchen was quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge and the soft hiss of the coffeemaker finishing its last drip. The brand-new coffeemaker Hudson had finally caved and let me get, claiming I was far less grouchy once I’d had my morning cup. I didn’t bother pointing out he enjoyed it as much as I did.
I’d been awake for twenty minutes, a minute or so after Hudson slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. He was puttering around and bumping into things as he got dressed to start the day. Or night. Considering it was still dark out at almost 2 a.m.
I hated him going in so early to do extra work on the ranch to make money, but he was stubborn. If I suggested he scale back, he would only get more stubborn. He was too proud for his own good. If he were a moocher like some other men, half my worries would be gone. But nope, he insisted on fixing all his problems on his own, although he didn’t have to.
When he was in the shower, I’d slapped together a hamand cheese sandwich and brewed coffee strong enough to put hair on your chest or at least keep Hudson upright through the morning. The sandwich wrapped in foil sat beside the thermos on the counter. I kept looking at them like they could do more than fill his stomach, like they could somehow make up for the hours of sleep he’d been skipping lately.
He went in too early and finished way too late. Yesterday, he hadn’t seen Ivy awake at all, since I’d brought her to the ranch and taken her back home.
His boots thumping in the hallway announced his arrival with slow, even steps, but not lazy. Purposeful. That was Hudson all over. Even half-dead with exhaustion, he moved like he had somewhere important to be.
He came into the kitchen, buttoning his shirt, hair still damp from his shower, that stubborn set to his jaw in place. God, he looked tired. The kind of tired you couldn’t hide, even when trying to play it off. There were faint shadows under his eyes, and his mouth was fixed in a line that wasn’t unhappy but wasn’t relaxed either.
“Why are you up?” he said.
I gestured toward the counter. “Made you coffee. And a sandwich for the road. You’ll thank me later when you’re knee-deep in cattle and not running on fumes.”
That earned me a smile, small but genuine. “You didn’t have to.”
“It’s the least I can do since you won’t quit working so hard.”
He reached for the thermos, but I beat him to it, caught him around the waist with one arm, and pulled him back against me. His body fit into mine like it belonged there, warm and solid, his shirt still clinging in places from the shower.
“None of that,” he said, but his shoulders loosened a fraction. “You’ll make me late.”
“Just holding you for a few seconds. Am I not allowed?” I pressed my lips to the side of his neck, inhaling soap and the faint scent of whatever laundry detergent he’d used. “You’re tired.”
He yawned, a perfect opportunity to prove my point. “I’ll rest tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow you’re taking Ivy to therapy.”
“Exactly. I’ll have all the time before and after therapy to get a nap.”
“Want me to take you and her tomorrow?”
