Plenty she doesn’t believe staring right at it.
“I’ll stay out with the cattle again tonight. Keep watch just in case,” I offer.
“You can’t keep doing that.”
“Comes with cow punching, don’t it?”
Have things changed this much since my youth?
“Yeah, but?—”
“But what, Miss Wakefield?”
“You’re allowed to call me Eliza.”
“You’re my employer. It’s a sign of respect. A necessary line to draw.”
Her cheeks glow, a smirk tilting the corners of her mouth. “A necessary line,” she repeats. “My mama warned me about your type long ago. Only line I need.”
That grabs my attention. I shift in the saddle, the leather creaking. “My type?”
“The rambling type.”
“That all?” I challenge, not sure I’m ready for this discussion if that’s where it’s headed.
“Mama said there were a different sort of folk in Raven’s Ridge. Not to be judged. Not to be called out. But to stick to their own the way we stick to ours.”
Wakefield philosophy.
Benign on first hearing. Deadly in practice.
Another spasm throbs through me. Low, heated, desperate.
I eye the distant mountains.Don’t worry.I’ll keep on the way I have. Leave this gal alone.
But the ache doubles back, and I have to fight through it, gripping the saddle horn to steady myself.
Thankfully, Eliza doesn’t notice, nudging her Palomino forward to push a cow back into line. The new distance isn’t enough. I need more breathing room.
A bed of prairie and a pillow of stars should do it. Give me time to regain myself, figure out what the hell these new sensations are.
This wanting without end. No relief. No escape.
“What else did she tell you?” I ask between clenched teeth.
She glances over her shoulder, eyes narrowing. “That your people are older than ours. Been here since before… well,before.”
I huff a laugh. Too tense. Too tight. “Old wives’ tales.”
“That’s what I’ve always said.”
“Where are your parents now?” I ask. The obvious question. No reason she should be running this place alone.
“Retired to Florida. A little beach house on the coast. No horses, no cows, nothing to make life any harder than it has to be.”
“What’s life without hardship?” I ask.
“Easier.”
