Dad shrugged. “I don’t know. Two months is a long time to be apart.”
I laughed. “Well, it isn’t like we’re an ocean away. A thirty-minute drive into town isn’t a deal-breaker.”
“Is he coming out here tonight, then? To the cookout?”
“I don’t know. He said he’d try,” I mumbled, looking down at my worn leather boots. In the beginning, Ellis had come out to the ranch all the time, but as his client list had grown, he’d had less time to spend long days in Dad’s office. Since we’d started dating, he’d only been out to the ranch once.
It wasn’t the best feeling, seeing how important Black Springs was to me. When my dad had invited him out for one of our weekly family dinners, Ellis had asked if we could meet in town.
Dad wasn’t too happy about that.
“There’re good places to hide a body on the ranch,” Dad had told me. I had laughed while his face remained stoic and unchanged.
As the silence settled, I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but mercifully, he kept quiet. I’d been listening to his lectures on relationship etiquette since he’d found out about my first kiss at thirteen.
“Doug!”
My dad and I both turned to see Bishop walking toward us. His faded grey cowboy hat had seen better days, but he didn’t care. Bishop was a simple man who lived a simple life. He drove the same ‘99 Dodge that he had since my dad bought it for him, and his wardrobe consisted of Wranglers, square-toed boots, and plain t-shirts.
I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen him deviate from his everyday routine in the past twenty years, and he’d bitched about it the entire time.
But my gaze snagged on the shadow behind him. A shadow I’d know anywhere.
“Bishop,” my dad greeted, shaking his hand. “Everything prepped for tonight?”
Bishop nodded once. “Yup. Cook said dinner will be ready in about an hour, so I thought I’d take Lincoln into town to grab some beer.”
“Probably a good idea,” my dad said. “Need a hand?”
I felt Lincoln’s eyes on me, burning a hole into my side profile, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. How was I supposed to get through the next two months if I couldn’t even look at the man? How could I stay on this ranch, walking on eggshells, until he finally packed up and went home to Tennessee?
“Why? You offering, old man?” Bishop’s gaze flicked to me,and I subtly shook my head. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Dad needed to rest.
“Yeah, give me a?—”
“Dad, why don’t you give me a hand with my bags?” I asked, pushing off the pipe fence. “I’m sure these boys can take care of a beer run, right?”
This time, I let my gaze travel over Bishop’s shoulder, where Lincoln’s eyes remained fixed on me. His jaw was set in a hard line, likely aching for how hard he held himself back.
I wasn’t sure when I’d made the decision to stay. There would be no avoiding Lincoln Carter forever, but I didn’t need to.
I just needed to get through the next two months.
lincoln
. . .
I broughtthe beer bottle to my lips, taking a long sip as I stared over the flames of the massive bonfire. Josie sat across the way, laughing at something her sister said.
It was torture. Torture to see her again, to not know why she left. She wouldn’t even look at me for longer than two seconds before tearing her gaze away.
I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing here. It was a fool’s errand; I’d known as much when Doug Hayes had called me a month ago with condolences and a job offer. He needed help running his training clinic and had heard from Frank that I had a gift for calming a wild spirit.
Frank.
I missed the old bastard more than I cared to admit. His death, while not a complete shock, had come much sooner than either of us thought. A year and a half ago, he’d been diagnosed with lung cancer. The doc had given him a good prognosis, considering how late they’d caught it, but he refused treatment. Said he wanted to live out the rest of his days in peace and there was no use in fighting the inevitable.
The day I found him was the worst of my life, but he got the last laugh.
