Page 36 of Branded Betrayal

I just got myself off thinking about Blaze Hartman.

The same one who barreled back into my life a few days ago and looks at me like I’m his even though he has no claim on me.

I grab a pillow and press it over my face to silence my groan, the Pink Panther still clasped in my hand.

My body clearly didn’t get the memo that Blaze Hartman is bad news. That whatever pull he has on me . . . whatever infuriating, impossible-to-ignore thing still exists between us . . . needs to be shut down immediately, if not sooner.

Dammit, why not the vet? Why the freaking devil?

I throw off the covers and head for the bathroom to clean myself up. But I know soap and water can’t wash away the lingering hunger and heat coursing through me.

After getting dressed, I pull my hair into a ponytail, slip on my boots, and head out to the barn to check on one of the water troughs for the livestock. Wind whispers through the grasses, the scents of sage and lavender permeating the air. I pull the sides of my flannel button-down together and walk alongside the lavender fields. I stoop down and hold some of the buds to my nose, pulling the sweetness into my lungs.

It makes me feel . . . not so alone. Like someone is here, watching over me. The early-morning sun beats down on my face. I stare out at the distant Bighorn Mountains, a shiver slipping down my spine.

Mom, Dad, Aunt Marg, Uncle Aaron. They’re here with me right now, watching over things. I can feel them, smell them. Dad’s favorite cigars, the fragrant lavender, Mom’s famous lemon-blueberry scones. Smells that’ve been branded into my memory, ones that bring me comfort in the face of uncertainty and fear.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out. Guilt crashes over me. Tyler texted and called several times, and even though I already apologized, I feel the need to do it again.

“Hey, Tyler,” I say, biting down on my lower lip. “I am so sorry about leaving you like that last night.”

He chuckles. “It’s fine. I understand, just like I understood last night. Things went a little sideways. I wanted to tell you I’m thinking about you. Last night needs a redo. What do you say? Let me take you on a proper date. I should have known that place wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“That sounds really nice. I’d love that.”

“How about Dolly’s? That a safe bet?”

“Oh, absolutely. Her dumplings and gravy are the absolute best. Not in the county or the state, but the best anywhere.”

“Sounds great. How about tomorrow night?”

“Perfect,” I say, a grin lifting my lips. “And this time, I’ll make sure we don’t get interrupted.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll pick you up around seven?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Okay. Take care, Savannah. See you tomorrow.”

I hang up the phone and continue walking toward the barn. I tap on my phone screen, a smile spreading across my face.

I’d found an online message board for this area and posted that Red Rock has land rental availability for cattle grazing. It was probably a little premature, but since we aren’t using all of the space and rotate the cattle regularly from what I was told, we can start small and build up gradually. I can keep the ranch hands here for longer every day if I offer more work and more pay.

Two people already reached out with questions about pricing, which has me feeling more hopeful than I have since the will reading. I can plan out the details with Mikey and Randy and create a schedule—

My brow furrows as I approach the barn. All the bales of hay are neatly piled, the floor of the barn raked and cleared.

The hands finished with their work early yesterday, and I didn’t get a chance to clean up myself afterward.

My heart jumps into my throat.

He still came, even after I told him to stay away.

I grab a bucket and walk over to the water pump. I twist the handle, my smile fading fast. What the heck? Bending down, I look closely and see that it’s loosened.

Heaving a deep sigh, I grab the wrench and go to work on tightening it again. I swore Blaze fixed it. How’d it come loose so quickly?

I twist it hard to the right, trying to tighten it as much as I can, when I hear a crack.