“I’ll be here tomorrow, then,” I tell her.
Faye dips her chin in acknowledgment before turning to the plate in the sink. Once she reaches for it, I take the opportunity to slip out of the room. Fuck waiting for Ash to catch up. I’ve got my boots back on and the screen door flying open quick enough to freak me out.
The familiar sound of hooves clopping on dirt should settle me, but right now, it has me picking up the pace. Something about being here—alone at that—has the hairs on my neck lifting. Ash’s car is close; if I can just make it there before any of those blabbermouth cowboys see me, I should be fine.
“Wait up!” Ash calls.
His sneakers are much quieter than my boots as he bounds over the dirt, chasing me.
“This is all your fault,” I snap at him.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were going to have to live here.”
A few feet from his car now, I spin around and jab my finger into his chest at the same time he stumbles to a stop. “You get to be the one to tell Mom that I’m moving out already. I’m not going to be the one to break her heart this time.”
“I really didn’t mean to screw anything up. You needed a job, and we both know you wouldn’t have come here and asked yourself. You’re too prideful for that.”
“I’d rather wash tables at Maggie’s.”
He huffs a disbelieving laugh. “We both know that isn’t true. You’re mad, fine. But don’t lie to me.”
“I can’t live here.”
“Let’s get in the car and talk about this on the way home, Tilly,” he pleads softly.
I let my shoulders fall half an inch. “There’s nothing more to talk about. I can’t back out of this now.”
“Just get in.”
He reaches around me to pull the door open, and I clamp my lips together while slipping inside. Once he’s shut the door, I hastily yank my seat belt across me and dig it into the buckle, my grip hard enough to leave imprints in my fingers.
I’ve never been sure exactly how much Ash knows about what happened after Rowe went to prison, but the longer I’m home, the more confirmation I’m getting that the answer isnot much.If he had, I don’t think he’d be so eager to find me a job here.
But then again, my brother may be my blood, but his friendship with Rowe has been just as strong without needing that tether. He’s connected to both of us in a way that I used to love.
Now, I hate it as much as I hate him.
9
ROWE
Diesel movesbeneath me at his favourite pace—fast as fuck.
I rock in time with him, the reins loose in my hand. He doesn’t pay any of the other horses around us attention, too happy to be on a morning run to give a shit about them. We’ve been at this for an hour already, and he shows no sign of slowing. He’s a workhorse through and through, this one.
The sun was far from rising when I left my cabin this morning and got in the truck. I slept restlessly, unable to relax long enough to make it into a real, deep sleep. Every noise had my muscles clamping and eyes moving beneath their lids. I’d opened the nightstand drawer a few too many times for my liking, searching for the knife I keep inside.
Exhaustion sticks to my brain as I ride through the ranch. I’m waiting for the slapping breeze to wake me up a bit. Maybe that’s why I give Diesel a light kick to the side, encouraging him to go quicker. The dull throb in my thighs helps.
We pass the round pen, and I give the black horse a quick once-over. He’s still on his preferred side of the fence, but as we pass, he shifts to get away from us. Diesel doesn’t look his wayuntil I make him slow. He snorts in annoyance, not done with his run, but I tighten my hold on his reins and guide him closer to the pen.
The horse’s ear twitches in our direction, his eyes fixed on me. It’s like Diesel’s not even here, and it’s just us standing off at the fence line again. He’s still coiled tight, burning red-hot with anger, but there’s no fear there now. It’s annoyance more than anything. A warning to back away from his space with the massive horse beneath me before he makes us.
I linger for a few moments longer, pushing him. Maybe more than I should.
A storm of hooves on the dirt sends him into a fit. He makes a quick circle before taking off across the pen. I twist on Diesel, narrowing my eyes on the cowboy racing my way. Tanner’s grin is devious as all hell as he brings his tan horse to settle beside us.
His bright blue eyes hold a sense of youth that died inside of me too early. Maybe that’s what keeps him grinning all the damn time, regardless of the seriousness of a situation. It looks like he hasn’t been in a shitty situation a day in his life.
