Unbroken: Country Fever, Book 3 Read Free Page A

The hot, dreaded tears gathered in her eyes and bulged at the rims, ready to spill over at a single word.
    The pain in her heart that Tucker had cheated on her was bad enough, but—
    “You know about his fiancée, don’t you?”
    Jesus. Her world spun, a slow revolution like a carnival ride. She clamped the pen harder, allowing the stab of pain on her palm to ground her.
    “You don’t know.” Christian slapped a hand off the table and sat back, shaking his head. “Damn him.”
    “Tell me,” she heard herself say from far away.
    Christian inched a hand across the table and stroked Claire’s tense white knuckles. She jerked away. His thick eyebrow rippled then settled over his concerned gaze. Taking a deep breath, he said, “He and Heather were engaged for a year. They were literally days away from the wedding. Hall decorated, tux rented, dress hanging in her closet.”
    Claire’s stomach pitched and heaved, and it wasn’t helping that the house special tonight was meatloaf. Heather. Now that the name was emblazoned on her brain, she’d never stop wondering what the girl looked like, if she was prettier or more fun than Claire.
    “What happened between them?”
    “She died in a car accident. It took her swift. On a dark road at night, coming home from a concert with friends, a sort of last hoorah as a bachelorette.”
    A ragged breath left Claire. “That actually explains a lot about Tucker.”
    Christian bobbed his head and took a sip of water. “Unfortunately, I don’t know if he’ll ever pull out of his grief. It’s like he caved in when she died. I’ve tried for two years to yank him back into the living, but…”
    “But no one can compete with a memory,” Claire murmured, staring blankly at Christian’s clenched fingers. She ticked her gaze up to his and saw raw pain there as well.
    “None of us can.” His voice was calloused, rough across her skin.
    And though he didn’t come out and say it, she knew that the man before her was in love with Tucker too.
     
     
    Thick mud clung to the soles of Tucker’s boots as he crossed the pasture to meet the riders on horseback—his kin, though they looked like a posse coming to string him up. Well, that’s probably what they’re here for, in a way.
    High grasses churned around his calves as he strode toward the two riders. From a closer look at the expensive drover coat of the man on the right, he recognized his Uncle Leon. That meant the other rider was his cousin Dale.
    “Fuck,” Tucker growled and dug his boots in, taking out his frustrations on the very land they were fighting over.
    In the distance, the steady beep of a back-up alarm on heavy equipment broke the peaceful quiet of the Wyoming ranch.
    Tucker tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “Boys,” he said as his relatives drew up a few feet from him.
    “Tucker,” Uncle Leon acknowledged. The man was decked out in expensive new jeans and boots, and his hat didn’t have a speck of dust on it. He definitely liked his money, which was probably why he wanted Tucker to sign off on more of his land so he could gain more of the green stuff.
    Dale’s horse danced a bit, and his cousin gained immediate control, wrapping brand new leather reins around his gloved fist. The horse’s tack shone—not from a good polishing and care, but because it was new too.
    “I like the new saddle, Dale. I see you even had your initials tooled into it.” Tucker peered up at his cousin, wishing he could rip him off the horse and beat him into a pulp. He and Dale were oil and water. Or in this case, coal and water.
    Uncle Leon didn’t beat around the bush. He stared over Tucker’s head in the direction of Tucker’s house and barns. His lean, freshly shaven cheeks pulled in as he pursed his lips.
    “Coal company needs those papers signed, Tucker. You get around to doing that?”
    “No,” Tucker drawled, hooking a thumb in his jeans pocket. Adrenaline surged in his system, but he wasn’t about to let on