The True Cowboy of Sunset Ridge (Gold Valley #14)(68)

And it wasn’t right or fair. Because Cheyenne was Lily’s mother. And Lily wasn’t even Lily.

She was whatever Cheyenne called her. A name that Colt didn’t even know.

But he had poured more of his heart and soul into that little life than he had given to anything in a long time. Had found pieces of healing with her that he hadn’t known were possible.

“It’s good,” he said. “It’s the right thing.”

“It doesn’t feel right,” Mallory said, her voice a broken whisper, and it made him angry. Because he didn’t have any damn control over it. And there was something about her being sad that made it even worse. Because he hadn’t chosen this.

But he didn’t say that. Instead, he put the car in Park, went to the back and got Lily out of her car seat. Cheyenne saw them and opened up the driver’s side door, getting out. She looked across the expanse of gravel at them, leaning against the car, picking at her nails. She looked better than when they’d seen her six weeks ago. Her hair was freshly colored, and it looked like she’d been sleeping more. She didn’t have the same agitated look to her demeanor, but she didn’t look happy either.

“She looks good,” Cheyenne said. “She’s big.”

Colt clenched his jaw together and held Lily even closer. “She is,” he said. “Cheyenne, I’m glad you’re back, but I can’t send you home with her tonight. Because we’re going to have to go talk to somebody.” And he was resolved in that. Because he would need to be absolutely certain that Lily was going to be taken care of before he sent her anywhere.

“No,” she said. “That’s actually not why I’m here. I can’t take her back.”

He was shell-shocked by that, his stomach hollowed out.

“I’ve been thinking a lot. And I feel bad, but I don’t know how to take care of her. And when I left her here... I was devastated for a while. But then, it felt like everything was okay again. Like I could figure my life out. I haven’t been able to breathe since Trent died. And then I had a baby, and I had to take care of her, and I did a terrible job. I didn’t want to do it, and I was angry at her. And every time she cried I was furious. Every time she cried I... I resented her for it and she’s the baby. It’s not fair. I know what it’s like to have family who doesn’t want you around. I don’t ever want that for her. I never wanted to be that mother. But I should never have been a mother this early, and I can’t do it by myself. I could’ve maybe done it if he was still here. But I don’t know how to be without him and be a mother. I just don’t know how to do it. And... I don’t have anyone to go to. I didn’t want to just abandon her, and I know that Trent would...” She laughed, a small, bitter sound. “Well, he would’ve died before he saw his child in foster care. That’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it? If I give her up, she’s going to end up in foster care.”

“No,” Colt said. “She won’t. She won’t end up in foster care because I’ll adopt her.”

He hadn’t known that he was going to make that decision until the words came out of his mouth, but once they did, it seemed so obvious. Once they did, it was so certain to him. It seemed... Obvious. That it was going to end up here. It was always going to end up here. Because she wasn’t just a responsibility, she was something else altogether. She was the kind of salvation that he had known he’d been looking for.

A kind of purpose.

And he felt broken open by it.

There were so many things... That conversation that he had in the car with Mallory swirling around inside of him... So many things that he was trying to make sense of. That he was trying to find. Truth about his life and about why he lived the way that he did.

But the fact was he had been looking for his purpose ever since he found out that he was still here while his mother had died. Because she’d known her purpose. It was taking care of them. Being his mother. Encouraging him. He lost his way somewhere. Been unable to get back to what he might’ve been if she’d still been around. Because he’d been brave.

He’d been brave to her when he’d written songs and played music, and he’d decided that he didn’t want to be that kind of brave, because it hurt too much.

So he’d been the kind of brave that didn’t make you feel or make you think.

He’d flung himself around the back of angry, snorting animals, and he’d put his life at risk, because he’d decided that that was the sort of brave he should be.

When in reality that sort of brave was easy. Because he’d been angry. Because he had been certain that he shouldn’t even still be here. Because he’d found it a whole hell of a lot simpler than having to feel. And then he met Trent and he thought maybe that was his purpose, to mentor this kid, but he’d lost that too. And then he’d just felt... Like he didn’t have a purpose at all. But here was a chance. Here was something.

Here was the gateway back to that other kind of brave. That required softness and a different sort of strength than he had touched in far too long. But he tested out that other brave, and it was destructive. It didn’t help anyone.

It wouldn’t have made her proud.

He felt that ache in the back of his teeth.

“You will?”

Mallory was standing beside him, completely quiet. And it was Mallory, her presence, her words from before, just her, that made him resolute.