“To what?” His voice sharpened. “Keep you safe?”
I pressed the heel of my hand to my temple. “Noah, I’m not worth your life.”
His grip on me tightened. “You are.”
My throat clenched. “Do you even know what this means?”
“Of course I do!” His eyes burned into mine. “I know exactly what I’m doing. If you’re guilty, then I am too.”
A war erupted inside me, logic versus emotion, past versus present, fear versus the terrifying pull of hope.
“I’m not letting them take you, Maya,” he said, his voice rough. “So you just have to accept it.”
A single, unsteady breath left my lips.
And then I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging to him so I didn’t shatter completely.
We were tied now. Whatever happened to me didn’t stop at my skin. It reached him too.
34
NOAH
The herd was restless, spooked by the shifting ground near the east ridge. Hank and I had been up since before dawn, riding out with the crew to push them back toward the pasture before the terrain got worse. My stallion, Wyatt, moved beneath me. His ears flicked back as the dogs darted through the dust, keeping the cattle in line.
A landslide had carved out a rough patch along the trail, forcing us to reroute. The longer we took, the riskier it got. One wrong move, and we’d lose a cow or, worse, a man.
Just as we crested the ridge, a ranch hand’s horse startled, rearing up. I saw it before it happened, but not fast enough. He tumbled back, his boot catching on the stirrup.
“Hold on!” I kicked Wyatt forward, Hank right behind me. The guy struggled, half-dragged, half-fighting to free himself as the ground gave an ominous shift beneath him.
Wyatt surged ahead, his muscles coiling as I swung down, gripping the reins of the spooked horse before it could bolt. Hank grabbed the ranch hand, yanking him up just as a chunk of earth crumbled down the slope. A close call, but we were used to those out here.
By the time we got the herd settled and made it back to the ranch, my back was covered in sweat and my throat full of dust. There were no easy days in ranching, but this one had been a little too close for comfort.
As I swung down from Wyatt, Logan was already waiting with his arms crossed, looking entirely too amused. “This fella got lost big time,” he said, jerking his chin toward the man standing next to him.
And that fella was none other than my old buddy, Dominic Powell.
“Lucas,” Dom greeted, squinting against the setting sun, clearly trying to make sense of what he was seeing. “Fuck me! You really went full sea change. Look at you, all Clint Eastwood. No, John Wick.”
I smirked, dusting off my sleeves. “Well, I’m nowhere near either end of that spectrum.”
“Yeah? Because you look like a cowboy who just got tossed at a rodeo,” he countered, grinning.
“And you look like a city boy trying too hard to blend in,” I shot back, eyeing his spotless jeans and way-too-crisp T-shirt.
Dom huffed, shaking his head. “Right. Next time, I’ll show up in my usual attire.”
“Wouldn’t hurt,” I said, pulling him into a quick, tough handshake.
Dom laughed. “Good to see you, Noah.”
Logan clapped him on the back. “Tried to drop him off at my ranch, but the man looked too lost. Figured I’d bring him here before he wandered into a bar and got himself into trouble.”
“Just trying to make friends,” Dom said smoothly.
“Uh-huh. You and a room full of ranchers? That, I’d pay to see,” I said.
