“I’ll need to sedate her more heavily for the sutures,” Lila said, reaching into her bag. “Someone should hold her head.”
“I’ve got her,” Jonah volunteered immediately, moving to cradle Sunny’s head in his arms. The mare leaned into him, trusting him even in her pain.
Lila administered the injection, then began laying out her suture kit. “This will take about thirty minutes. The wound is clean-edged, which helps, but it’s long.”
The barn door creaked open, and River slipped inside, his usual swagger replaced by something that looked almost like genuine remorse. His dark curls were wind-tousled, his hands stained with dirt from mending the fence.
Walker’s head snapped up at the sound, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto River. The temperature in the barn seemed to drop ten degrees.
“You,” Walker said, pointing at him. “My office. Now.”
twenty-one
“Your office?” River laughed, but it lacked its usual confidence. “Do I need to bring a hall pass? Or is this more of a detention situation?” He glanced around at the others, searching for his usual audience, the appreciative smirks his jokes typically earned.
No one smiled. Jonah stood beside his horse, his face turned away, focused entirely on the injured mare. Boone stood with his arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes hard as river stones. Lila and Luke kept working, pretending not to hear anything.
Walker’s gaze didn’t waver, his patience thinning with each second. “Now, Beckett.”
River’s smile turned reckless. “You know, I’m actually busy right now. Got to feed the goats.” He backed up a step, hands raised in mock surrender. “Rain check on the office talk? Tomorrow maybe? Next week?”
Something snapped inside him, a dam breaking after months of building pressure. Five months of River’s constant disruptions, five months of watching the man use humor like a shield, deflecting every attempt to reach him. Five months of patience stretched beyond its limits.
“You think this is all a joke?” The words came out low, controlled, but even he heard the dangerous edge in his voice. He took a step toward River, who instinctively backed up. “This ranch? These people trying to help you?”
“Whoa, easy there, boss. I just opened a gate. It was a harmless prank.”
“Harmless? You killed someone with a prank, River.”
River’s mask slipped, revealing the raw and wounded man underneath. “I-I didn’t mean…”
Walker knew Johanna would be cursing him if she were here, but he couldn’t stop now that the fuse was lit. “You could’ve done it again today. What if Sharpe’s truck went off the road or hit one of the horses?” His voice rose with each word. “And yet here you are, still playing fucking games!”
Dead silence followed. Lila and Luke had stopped tending to Sunny and were staring, eyes wide. Jonah and Boone moved to stand behind Walker, a silent wall of agreement.
The barn door flew open, and Johanna, probably drawn by the shouting, hurried in. “What’s going on in here?”
River’s face drained of all color. His lips parted as if to deliver another quip, but no sound came out. The man beneath the jester’s mask was fully visible now—haunted, hurting, terrified. His hands trembled at his sides.
And Walker suddenly hated himself for putting that look on his face.
Then the mask snapped back into place. The smile returned, but it was different now. Brittle, like glass about to shatter.
“Well,” he said, his voice unnervingly calm, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.” He glanced around the barn, taking in the shocked expressions of everyone present. “Or should I say the skeleton’s out of the closet? Either way, quite the dramatic reveal, Nash. Solid eight out of ten for execution.”
“Shit.” His anger faltered in the face of River’s eerie composure, and he dragged a hand over his jaw. “Riv?—”
“If you’ll excuse me,” River continued, backing toward the door, “I think I need some air.” He gave a small, mocking bow, then turned and walked out of the barn, his shoulders squared.
Johanna tried to reach for River as he passed, but he sidestepped her and kept going.
She looked back at Walker with wide, accusing eyes, and he braced for the blast, but she didn’t yell. Didn’t do anything, actually. Just stood there in the hay-dust light, her hands curled into fists and her eyes dark with disappointment. That was worse than any shouting. He would’ve preferred a slap to the face.
The barn felt like a vacuum now. No sound except the click of Lila’s suture kit and the wet, anxious snorts coming from Sunny’s stall. Boone looked pissed enough to shatter concrete with his bare hands.
Jonah watched River go, his jaw clenched tight. “I can’t feel sorry for him. He hurt my girl.”
Walker wanted to go after River, but his boots wouldn’t move.
