Janie blushes, but she doesn’t protest. We hang around for a bit longer, talking about tomorrow. Then, we head out, parting ways with Deacon by the barn. I shake his hand, which I don’t usually do, and I think he gets it. I’m suddenly very aware of all the little things that got me to this moment. If Deacon hadn’t gone after Freya, she’d never have made her way to Ryder Ranch. If he hadn’t stepped in and saved her, I’d be dead on the cold hill. If I hadn’t woken up in the hospital, with him hovering over me, telling me if I didn’t get clean, he’d put a bullet between my eyes, I wouldn’t have met Janie.
“Thanks,” I say gruffly.
“Yep,” he says.
He disappears into the barn. I walk with Janie, our fingers intertwined. We’re both quiet, content. I ask if she’s seen her parents yet, and she says she went there first to drop off her bags. She made her rounds while I was away in the fields. My grip goes tighter when she says that, knowing I get her to myself tonight.
I’ve never been the selfish type, but with her, I am.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
JANIE
He’s as quiet as he’s always been, but he doesn’t have to speak for me to know he’s happy. We make our way up the hill together. Around us, the wranglers stream in from the fields. My heart is so light, I swear, it glows from my eyes. I don’t know how long I’ve wanted to come home, but it was far longer than I’ve known Bittern. There was an empty ache buried deep. He just came along and accidentally kicked it up, sending my life sliding like an avalanche off the mountains.
I don’t mind.
Tomorrow is for worrying about what I do next. Tonight is for us.
“So why’d you quit?” he asks.
“Turns out, the company was going under. They were letting us all go anyway.”
“Oh. That’s as good a reason as any.”
“It’s a pretty damn good reason.”
He opens the door, leading me down the hall. Daisy yaps, running from the living area. He lets her out, waiting for her with a patience that puts a smile on my face. Then, he scoops herup and joins me in the doorway. Daisy rolls in the crook of his arm, trying to get at me. I pick her up, letting her lick my chin, and release her on the ground. She scampers around the corner, and I hear her climbing back onto the couch.
We go into the kitchen. On the table sits a row of little wooden birds, sparrows, larks, warblers, and everything else. I’m drawn to them, sitting down to run my fingers over their wooden feathers.
“You made all these,” I whisper.
He watches me from the doorway, hands in his pockets. “I did.”
The last bird is a bittern, neck elongated and eyes lifted to the sky. I pick it up, turning it over in my hand. All at once, I know. I know so deeply, like it’s been written in my stars from the moment I was born. This man, this gentle bird, is mine. We’ll figure everything out in time. He’ll ask me to be his girl. Someday soon enough, he’ll put a ring on my finger, and together, we’ll get to make a new home.
It might take time, but it’ll happen.
I look up into those soft, russet eyes, and I know it’s coming, just as I know when this summer is over, winter will follow the way it always does.
Hands unsteady, I put the bird down and get to my feet, going to him. He puts his hands on my waist to pull me in.
“Take me to bed,” I whisper.
Obediently, he lifts me in his arms and carries me easily to the bed.Bam—he kicks the door shut behind us, and that sound wakes up my baser instincts. It wakes his up too, because he spills onto the bed, and his groin pushes into my hips, rocking and grinding his erection with lazy strokes. Our mouths meet, open, hungry. I taste his tongue, and my eyes flutter shut, lips parting so he can push it deep.
God, I love this.
He pulls back, brushing my hair from my face. His lips part like he might speak, but he hesitates.
“What?” I whisper.
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”
He bends in, kissing my collarbone. “I just feel like I kind of laid it out, all on the table, and you didn’t leave. I like that.”
