“You and Shelby,” she mutters. “In the barn.”
That? Really?
“What?”
“And then you ignored her,” she continues weakly. “Like she was nothing.”
I shake my head, baffled. “I apologized for that.”
She glares at me. “For what?”
“For … the barn,” I say. “When I scared her. And she honestly paid me back when she nearly drowned me with the hose.”
She lets out a broken laugh. “No. Not that time.”
She looks at me again, eyes glassy.
“When you took advantage of her inthisbarn,” she says, “and then walked out like nothing happened.”
I feel like the floor just dropped out from under me.
“I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb,” she snaps weakly.
“I’m not!” My voice cracks. “I swear to you, I don’t—”
Then she dry-heaves again, doubling over.
Before I can say another word, hoofbeats thunder into the barnyard.
I look up just in time to see Caison ride in on Midnight, the big black horse snorting as he skids to a stop. Caison swings down in one smooth motion and rushes toward us.
“What happened?” he asks sharply, dropping to Matty’s side.
“She was looking for you,” I say. “Then she just … lost her lunch.”
Caison presses a hand to Matty’s back, murmuring softly to her, all worry and tenderness. He looks up at me. “Can you take Midnight?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
I grab the reins and lead the horse away, glancing back once as Caison helps Matty to her feet and guides her toward the house, arm firm around her waist, head bent close to hers.
They disappear inside.
I stand there longer than I should, Midnight shifting beside me, my mind replaying Matty’s words on a loop.
Barn.
Shelby.
Midnight bristles impatiently beside me.
“Women,” I whisper as I scratch his nose. “They’re all crazy.”
He snorts.
“You agree, huh?”
