She unclipped Bishop’s leash and filled a bowl with water from the kitchen tap. The dog drank thirstily while she watched the confrontation outside. Walker was talking now, his free hand gesturing in the air, but Boone’s face remained impassive, carved from stone.
“This isn’t going well.”
The dog looked up at her with those intelligent eyes, then back to the window.
“You’re right. I should go help.” She gave him another quick scratch. “You stay here and be the good boy I know you are, okay?”
As she reached the front door, Boone revved the engine, and the truck lurched forward a few feet.
“Jesus, Walker,” she muttered, yanking open the door. “Don’t get yourself run over.”
Bishop stayed inside, watching through the screen door.
“Boone!” she called, hurrying down the porch steps. “Wait!”
Both men turned toward her. Walker’s face was flushed with anger, while Boone’s was a stone wall of determination.
“Dr. Perrin,” Boone said, his voice flat. “Don’t bother convincing me to stay. I’m done here.”
She stopped beside Walker. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Boone replied. “I just realized there’s nothing for me here.”
“That’s bullshit,” Walker growled. “You’re running because things got real last night.”
Boone scoffed.
“I know you talked to Jo. I know you finally opened up, and now you’re spooked. Is that how you want to spend the rest of your life, son? Running every time shit gets a little bit real?”
Boone’s hands tightened on the wheel, and the engine revved again. “Move away from my truck.”
“You’ll just have to run me over, ‘cause I ain’t going anywhere.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Boone finally looked at Walker then, his blue eyes like chips of ice. “You can’t save me. Nobody can.”
Ugh. Men. They could be such bullheaded idiots sometimes, too proud and too stubborn for their own good.
She stepped between them, hands raised. “Both of you, stop. This isn’t helping.”
Walker shot her a look that could have melted steel, but he took a half-step back from the truck. Boone’s shoulders remained rigid, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the windshield.
“Boone,” she said, keeping her voice calm, “can we talk? Just you and me?”
His jaw clenched. “Nothing to talk about.”
“Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.” She nodded toward the house. “Walker will go inside.”
Walker started to protest, but she silenced him with a look. After a long moment, he nodded curtly and stepped back,though reluctance radiated from every line of his body. “Fine. But he’s not leaving.”
“That’s not your call,” Boone snapped.
Walker’s jaw tightened, but he retreated to the porch, where he stood watching them, arms crossed over his chest.
Stubborn ass.
She stepped closer to the truck, close enough to see the muscle jumping in Boone’s jaw, the wary exhaustion in his eyes. “Where are you going to go?”
“Away from here.” Boone revved the engine slightly, as if emphasizing his point. “Missoula, maybe. Or further. Doesn’t matter.”
