Page 9 of July’s Cowboy Dallas

“A couple months ago. Before planning started on the Rodeo Royalty Weekend coming up next month.” He adjusted his hat. “Might be nothing. Might not. Just be careful.”

Sadie stared after him as he walked away, her jaw tight.

“Not every Hollister is Holt,” I said.

She looked at me, and for a second, I saw everything: the pressure, the expectations, and the choice she made every time she refused to look away.

“Everyone's going to think I'm trying to start a war.”

I shook my head. “You're trying to keep people safe.”

“That won't matter to some of them.”

“It'll matter to the ones worth listening to.”

She held my gaze a few seconds longer than necessary, long enough that I felt it low in my gut and had to remind myself what we were and what we weren't. Then she turned and started walking toward the shaded side of the stock barn.

I followed, stopping when she did near a water trough. Someone had left a cooler in the shade, and I pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to her.

She took it without thinking.

That was the thing about us. She didn't have to think around me. All she had to do was trust that I'd be there. And I always was.

Sadie drank half the bottle, then held it out and offered it to me. I shook my head and she shifted her gaze to the ground. Dust clung to her boots. A strand of hair had come loose from her braid and stuck to her cheek. I almost reached for that loose strand. My hand lifted, then I stopped.

What was I going to do, tuck her hair back like that was a normal thing for me to do? Like she was mine to touch?

I made myself study the fence rail instead.

Sadie looked at me, her brow furrowing. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Stop yourself.”

I didn't have an answer. Not one I could give her without changing everything. Because touching Sadie once wouldn't be enough. I'd spent years keeping my hands and my feelings to myself. Being her friend was the only piece of her I knew how to keep.

“Old habit,” I said.

Her eyes stayed on mine, searching for something I wasn't sure I could hide anymore. Then she looked away, her jaw tightening.

“I need to find that box,” she said.

“We need to find that box.” I wouldn't let her wade through shit in the past by herself.

“There's no we, Dallas. You don't have to get involved.” She tilted her head as she stared up at me.

I knew she meant it. Even after all these years, she didn't want to drag me into something that could have a negative impact on my reputation. What she didn't know was that I didn't give a fuck about what other people thought about me. She was the only one whose opinion mattered.

“I won't let you face this alone. That's what friends are for, right?” The smile I gave her held just the right amount of mischief and none of the heat that vibrated through my veins every time she was nearby.

“Friends, huh?” Her lips tipped up in a defeated grin.

I smiled back and swallowed the word like it didn't cost me anything. Friends. That was all I would ever have with Sadie. She was a shooting star, meant for greater things than helping local ranchers and working the local rodeo circuit. One of these days she was going to get fed up with people questioning her and move on to somewhere she could do more good.

And I'd hold the gate open when she went. That was the job. That had always been the job.

She finished the water and we walked toward the stock office in silence.