“Who knew she had a husband,” Gunner said, his tone prodding.
The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, but my jaw locked them in.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Who knew.”
Gunner rolled his hand, prompting. “And you’re pissed because…”
“He’s the jackass who rode Dream Maker into the gates.”
Gunner’s brows shot up. Nash let out a slow breath. We’d all remembered what shape Dreamy was in when Tally brought him here. The horse was on the brink.
“Is he here for the horse or his wife?” Nash asked, hand heavy on my shoulder. Solid. Supportive. A silent ‘I’m here for you’.
I shrugged. “Well, he hasn’t signed the divorce papers, so...”
“She want him back?”
“She said not,” I said firmly. “Blames him for what happened to Dreamy. Says he’s controlling.”
They traded a look. I knew what it meant.
“Let Tally handle it,” I said, meeting both their eyes. “She’s tough. She’ll ask for help if she needs it.”
Gunner nodded. “Noted. If he shows up here again, though, I’m kicking his ass off our land whether she asks or not.” He moved past me, heading for the refrigerator. “He even looks at Dreamy, we’re digging a shallow grave out by the creek.”
“Point taken.”
Gunner grabbed two beers, handing one to Nash.
“Where’s mine?” I asked, hands on hips.
Nash smirked, clinking bottles with Gunner’s. “Thought you had a certainred head to visit.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I cleared my throat and glanced out the window toward the stables. Toward her cabin. Wondering if the lights were still on. Wondering if she was in those blue plaid pajamas that I secretly loved.
They both laughed, low, knowing chuckles that made me want to smack them both in the nuts.
“Just go,” Nash said over his shoulder, strolling out of the kitchen. “Stop sneaking out like a teenager in the middle of the night.”
“What makes you think?—”
“I’ve got a baby who isn’t sleeping well at the moment and a wife who’s nosier than a raccoon in a trash can.”
Gunner followed him, leaving me in the quiet kitchen, staring out into the dark.
“Fuck it,” I muttered heading for the back door, because while I wasn’t ready to say what this was, I sure as hell wasn’t ready to let it go.
The path between the house and Tally’s cabin was short, yet tonight it felt longer. Like the night was stretching it on purpose, giving me time to second guess the steps I was taking. Daring me to turn back. Daring me to keep going and be where my soul always felt at peace.
I didn’t knock. Tonight, I felt we were past knocking.
Inside the lights were low. Only the flicker from the fire and the soft golden wash of the lamp in the corner. Tally was curled up on the sofa, and yes she was in those damn blue plaid pajamas. There was a book open on her lap, but she wasn’t reading it, she was staring at the fire. As my boots sounded on the floor she looked up, not startling when she saw me. Just blinking slowly. A simple greeting like she was expecting me.
“Thought you’d probably be early tonight,” she said quietly.
“Would have been even earlier but I got held up by two nosey assholes and a popcorn bowl.”
Her smile was soft and tired. “Big night then?”
