She smiles, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggles closer to me. "I love you, too, Cade. Always."
I sit up as those old words crawl through me in the half-dream state I’m in.
I wake with the ghost of her laughter still in my ears and the ache of her name caught in my throat.
And it guts me. Because I can’t decide what hurts worse, remembering what we’d had…or knowing I’ll never have it again…with anyone.
That’s when I hear the soft patter of little feet on the hardwood. “Daddy?”
The bedroom door creaks open. Evie pads in, her hair sticking up in every direction, clutching the ragged stuffed cow I got for her for her second birthday.
I lift the duvet, and she scrambles up, small and warm against me.
“Bad dream?” I murmur, brushing her hair back.
She nods solemnly. “There were coyotes. They tried to eat Dolly.” She holds up the stuffed cow for proof, eyes wide and serious.
“Coyotes don’t come in houses.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Besides, you know your daddy will scare themoff.”
She gives a little giggle, muffling against my T-shirt. “You’d yell really loud, and they’d all go running.”
“Damn right.”
Her small body wriggles as she tries to get comfortable, tucking Dolly between us. “When I grow up, I’m gonna be a cow doctor like the pretty lady.”
I feel like a bull is standing on my ribcage.
“What lady?” I ask unnecessarily. I know who she means.
“Dr. K. She’s the one who was fixing Bluebell’s leg.” She yawns. “She was nice. I like her.”
I close my eyes and let out a long breath.
Sarah again. Always Sarah. In my daughter’s thoughts, just like in mine.
Evie’s breathing evens out. Her little hand is curled over my heart like she owns me, which she does. And for a while, the ache dulls. Because no matter what nightmares claw at me—past or present—this little girl comes first. Always.
I pull my baby close, tucking the duvet tighter around us and letting sleep take us both under.
CHAPTER 6
sarah
As a teenager, I had friends—a lot of them.
I was dating one of the hottest guys in town, and we were in a tight-knit friend group, or what you think is tight as kids. But after their betrayal, after leaving Wildflower Canyon, I kept to myself. I had Aunt Gemma, and that was that.
After therapy—a whole lot of it—I finally was able to date again, have sex again. For me, it was never about finding a future. It was about proving to myself that the past didn’t own me anymore.
Which is why it made me nervous as hell when Aria and Joy dragged me to the Rusty Spur on a Friday night. They swore I needed a break after the week I’d had. Andmaybethey weren’t wrong.
Another thing about living in a small town? Everyone knows everyone’s business. Which meant everyone knew I’d spent half the night at the Dunn ranch, where most folks would sooner spit on my boots than thank me. Butthey also knew that even Lyle Dunn managed a few grudging words about my skill as a vet.
So that’s how I ended up in a cowboy dive bar that smells like whiskey, frying grease, and sweat-soaked denim.
The narrow room is crowded, shoulder to shoulder, and the live band on stage, which isn’t half bad, is pounding out a cover of Garth Brooks while couples spin and stomp across the dance floor.
Neon signs buzz above the wraparound bar where Moxy, gray hair pulled tight and a cigarette dangling from her lips, pours shots with the same hand that can haul rowdy cowboys out by their collars.
