I hadn’t done any of that for me. I’d done it for her. But now—thanks to these three—I wondered if every little “helpful” thing I’d done was…a safety net of my own making. What if my desire to fix things wasn’t always about giving her freedom or simply protecting her, but about…goddamn it…about wanting to be needed? Needed so much that she’d—I felt like I was going to be sick—never leave me.
I hated that thought—hated myself, too—because it stung. Because every time I stepped in, even with the best of intentions, it had been because I feared losing her in some way. Because I knew how it felt to be abandoned. And that fear didn’t whisper. It shouted—rationalizing all those times I thought I was just being protective when really…I was just holding on too tight.
I loved her. God, I loved her so fucking much and the last thing I wanted was to fix things in a way that caged her. And somewhere between that short drive back to the cottage later in the day, it clicked. I knew exactly what I needed to do. Something that truly showed her she wasn’t trapped.
Not with me.
Notanywhere.
Not ever again.
Chapter Forty
Andi
Zane was acting…weird.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but things were definitely off.
In the days after moving into the cottage—after getting my heart broken by a bunch of stupid kids who’d, unintentionally but no less irresponsibly, messed up my dad’s car—I felt like I barely saw him.
He’d come back that afternoon with my borrowed truck, kissed me reverently, and then said something about needing to help out at a few other places throughout the town. My heart sank when he’d said it, but him going where he was needed was of my own doing. And I couldn’t fault him for being a good guy. For being kind and caring and willing to sacrifice his own time and energy helping others. It was one of the things I loved most about him.
Needless to say, we didn’t break in my new bed that night.
Or the next night.
Or the night after that.
Or the night…you get the point.
Call it dramatic if you want, but when a week passed and rolled into the next, I started to wonder if the side of the bedI’d reserved for Zane had been officially claimed by Cluck Norris instead.
“Am I going to have to kick his ass?” Norah asked as her truck rumbled up the quarter mile drive that led to the ranch.
“No.” I laughed around the Zane-sized hole in my chest as I worked on weaving the ends of my hair together and securing the braid with an elastic tie. “That won’t be necessary, but if it was, I think you did a pretty good job of teaching me how to do it myself.”
“Damn straight,” she said and held out her fist over the console. “Make it count.”
“Don’t stop until he does,” I finished and bumped my fist against hers as the sun flirted with the horizon, throwing shades of violet and rose across everything its light touched as the ranch unfolded in front of us. I’d witnessed this view countless times since landing in Tarnation, but it never ceased to take my breath away. “It is…weirdthough, how he’s not been around. Right? Like I’m not being crazy and just making this up and being all…” I made a motion with my hands, “...clingy.”
Norah let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re not crazy, and you'renotclingy. Ranchers don’t have set hours and no two days are the same.” She shrugged a shoulder and made a dismissive face as she parked near the house. “The guys are just extra busy right now.”
“Extra busy doing what?” I asked, hating the way my voice pitched as I slid my palm between my lap and the potholder protecting my thighs from the warm pie dish. I reached for the door handle. “Everyone keeps telling me ‘don’t worry, he’s just busy,’ but no one bothers to sharewhat’skeeping him busy.”
“Okay,nowyou sound clingy.” Norah’s lips curved in an amused way as she shot me a look and stepped out of her truck, shutting the door behind her.
I followed, balancing the pie on my palm and letting the scent of peaches and bourbon transport me back to a different night where my cowboy wasdefinitelypresent. My bottom lip went between my teeth as the memory flashed across my mind, and I swallowed against the ache that had suddenly found its way into my throat.
“They’re doing…things. Man things. Ranch things,” Norah said. We walked up the steps and crossed the porch. She held the door open and gave me another amused smirk. “Things us women folk aren’t meant to know of,” she added, laughing at her own out-of-character joke.
I narrowed my eyes, suspicion prickling under my skin. “Nowyou’rebeing weird.”
Norah’s laughter trailed behind me as I stepped into Lindy’s kitchen and felt my entire body just…sigh. I swear, if comfort had a scent, it was definitely this. Chicken and dumplings (the flat kind, not the drop), green beans, buttermilk biscuits, a corn casserole, and sweet potatoes. It was almost enough to distract me from all the weirdness going on lately. Almost.
Lindy’s Sunday dinners had quickly become one of my favorite things about Tarnation and the McKade family. It always seemed like there was too much of everything but in the best way possible. No one left hungry. No one left without laughing. I loved it…and I loved all of them—this family that accepted me with open arms and never once made me feel like an outcast. Well, one of them did, but I think he and I had done a pretty good job of working out our differences.
The long farmhouse table was already set with mismatched plates, cloth napkins, and a pitcher of sweet tea sweating into a trivet. The only things (or people) missing were Zane, Luke, and…
