“Well, well,” he says, stopping beside our booth. “Fancy meeting y’all here. Having a celebration?”
“Just dinner,” I reply carefully, my hand finding Aubree’s under the table. “Didn’t expect to see you in Millfield.”
“Funny thing about that,” Noah says, his smile never wavering. “I’m still working on those alibis from the night Truett was hurt. You know how it is…crossing t’s and dotting i’s.”
The temperature at our table drops about ten degrees. Devlin’s gone perfectly still, and I can feel Atlee’s tension from across the booth.
“Speaking of which,” Noah continues, turning his attention to Aubree. “I don’t think I ever got a clear answer about where Jesse was that night. Mind helping me out with that?”
The question hangs in the air like a loaded gun. I can feel my pulse hammering in my throat, waiting to see what Aubree will say. We never discussed this, never coordinated our stories. Hell, I’m not even sure she knows the full extent of what happened that night.
But when she looks up at Noah, her brown eyes are clear and steady, her voice calm and certain.
“He was with me,” she says without a second’s hesitation.
My heart does a jump and a twirl, because that means without a doubt, that she’s staying.
TWENTY-FOUR
AUBREE
I watchJesse drive away from Nora’s apartment, heading to take the cattle to market. I’ve never worried about him leaving before, but now I do. Since Truett got shot, I’ve worried about a lot more than I ever have before.
Nora opens the door with a smile before I can even knock. Atlee is sitting on her couch, and it looks like Nora was sitting across from her.
“Welcome to our prison.” Atlee rolls her eyes, blowing a breath. “No one’s ever told me I’m not allowed to leave somewhere before, and I’m not sure I like the implication that Devlin Nelson is in charge of me.”
Nora and I glance at each other.
“So you’re saying it doesn’t turn you on just a little bit that he laid down the law to you?”
Atlee shifts in her seat. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a man act like that before, but it was interesting.”
Nora brings coffee to the table. “My question is, what was he like on your drive to the ranch the night that Truett was shot. Devlin hardly ever says five words.”
Atlee’s face pinkens. “He spoke. Not a lot, but he was nice to me.”
“Atlee…” I give her a grin. “Did the strong, silent type do it for you?”
“There was something about the way he grunted every answer to any question I had that did seem pretty hot.”
We both giggle at her. “Welcome to the club, honey. All of ’em grunt every answer to any question asked.”
The laughter feels good, a brief respite from the tension that’s been hanging over all of us like a storm cloud. I curl my legs under me on Nora’s plush armchair, wrapping my hands around the warm coffee mug. The apartment smells like vanilla and cinnamon, so different from the hay and leather scents I’ve grown accustomed to at the ranch.
“Speaking of grunting men,” Nora says, settling back into her spot across from Atlee. “How is Truett really doing, Aubree? I know when I visit him at the ranch, he puts on this tough act, but I can see right through it.”
I take a slow sip of my coffee, buying myself a moment. Nora’s always been perceptive, and there’s no point in sugar-coating things with her. “He’s doing well, considering. But I think it’s going to take him longer to heal than any of them want to admit. He’s lost a lot of endurance.”
“What do you mean?” Atlee asks, leaning forward with concern.
“Last night, Jesse had to help him shower, and it took them over an hour. Truett was exhausted afterward, could barely keep his eyes open.” I set my mug down, running my thumb along the rim. “He’s frustrated, you know? Being dependent on everyone else is killing him almost as much as the actual injury was.”
Nora doesn’t say anything, but I can see the worry etched in the lines around her eyes, the way she’s gripping her coffee mug a little too tightly. Her knuckles are white against the ceramic.
“Nora,” I say gently. “Can I ask you something?”
She nods, though I can tell she’s bracing herself.
