He ignored the blow. “Why not?”
“Because you’re ten years too late.” Her voice broke on the last word, and her eyes filled. “I learned long ago how to handle things without you.”
“I have promises to keep to Elway.”
The words hung between them like smoke, and for a moment, Sierra’s face went soft with something that might have been memory. Then her expression hardened again.
“Oh, you broke those long ago, cowboy.”
Right.
He couldn’t speak. Not, at least, until she turned away.
And again, he was the guy chasing her down the sidewalk. “Sierra?—”
She glanced at him. “How long are you staying in town?”
The question caught him off guard. “I don’t know.”
“Figures.” She shook her head, and for a second, just a flash, he saw something die in her eyes. “Same old Rowan. Never could commit to anything long enough to see it through.”
Oh, that wasn’t fair. But it benched him as she turned and walked toward her truck. Rowan stood frozen on the sidewalk, watching her go. This wasn’t how their reunion was supposed to happen.
In his imagination, she’d been happy to see him. Shocked, maybe, confused about how he’d survived when everyone thought he was dead. But ultimately happy. She would have understood why he’d had to disappear, why staying dead had been the only way to keep her safe.
Go after her.
The voice of passion in his head. No. He’d done enough damage listening to his emotions today.
Sierra reached her truck and yanked open the door, then paused and looked back at him. For one heartbeat, he thought she might say something else. Something that would bridge the chasm that ten years had carved between them.
Instead, she climbed into the cab and started the engine.
Rowan watched her drive away, her taillights disappearing around the corner toward the county road that would take her back to the ranch. Back to the life that didn’t include him. Back to the son she was raising alone and the dangers she was facing without backup.
“Well, at least she knows you’re not dead.”
Saxon’s voice came from behind him. Rowan turned to find his friend standing in the doorway of the coffee shop, holding two cups and wearing the expression of someone who’d witnessed a train wreck.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough to know that your woman is about as thrilled to see you as a tax auditor.” Saxon handed him one of the cups. “Also enough to know she’s in serious trouble and too stubborn to accept help from the one person who might be able to keep her alive.”
Rowan stared down the empty street where Sierra’s truck had disappeared. “She hates me.”
“Can you blame her?”
“No.”
“Good. That’s the first step toward not being a complete idiot about this situation.” Saxon took a sip of his coffee and made a face. “Though I have to say, for a dead man, you’re remarkably bad at resurrection conversations.”
“This isn’t a joke, Saxon.”
“I know it’s not. That woman is in danger, and you’re the best chance she’s got of staying alive. Question is, what are you going to do about it?”
Rowan sighed. “I’m going to keep her safe,” he said quietly. “Whether she wants me to or not.”
“Even if she never forgives you?”
