Page 51 of Branded Betrayal

“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him and loading all the equipment into it. I get in the truck, turn on the ignition, and put the car in drive just as he slaps a hand on the passenger side door.

Fuck, I forgot to raise the damn window.

“Make sure you don’t fix that piping too good, understand, boy?” The guy chuckles, the look on his face making bile shoot up the back of my throat. “’Cause he’ll be watchin’. And you don’t wanna find out what happens if you fuck with him.”

“I know what to do,” I say through clenched teeth. “And you can tell him I said that.”

I stomp my foot on the gas, and the truck lurches forward, tires catching on the gravel as I try to get away from the guy and this whole fucking situation. When I get back to Red Rock, I notice a truck parked up by the house. Same truck I saw the other day.

Dr. Fucking Feelgood.

I swing the steering wheel around, maneuvering my truck close to the barn, gritting my teeth so hard, there’s a good possibility I might crack them. I get out, slam the door, and grab the box of equipment from the flatbed before stalking toward the underground-well system.

Guilt gnaws at my chest. I stare into the large dirt hole where I’m going to install the parts to make it look like the underground system is repaired. From the looks of the piping, it’d been wearing down over the years, so it was only a matter of time before it broke.

And now I’m going to pretend to fix it for her.

I pull out my phone and snap some pictures of the troughs, which are nearly empty again, and the pipes and coupling I brought back from Birch Falls. The pictures are for Wilkerson, evidence of the sabotage in case the son of a bitch claims I’m not doing what he wants out here.

Then I grab a shovel and start digging, keeping my eyes focused on the pile of dirt in front of me and not on Savannah’s kitchen window. If I look up . . . if I see him . . . I will go fucking insane.

You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Doc.

My fingers grip the handle of the shovel, wrapping tight around them. The piping was buried pretty deep, and it takes me a while before the tip of the shovel finally hits something hard. I lower myself to my knees and reach into the hole. The coupling is completely cracked, and there’s no water flowing through the pipes anymore. It’s just soaking into the ground now.

After taking a few more pictures, I rummage through the box and grab what I need to do a Band-Aid-and-bubble-gum fix. It’ll hold for a bit, and while Savvie thinks she’s well on her way to getting the ranch profitable because this crisis was averted, something else is gonna mysteriously “break.” Her livestock will be in jeopardy, and her hopes for income will go up in smoke.

And as she’s chasing down ranching disasters, she’ll realize what a big mistake it was for her to try to hang onto this place.

My heart sinks in my chest.

I don’t know how much time passes before I’m packing dirt back into the hole after finishing my shoddy patch job. And now I have a whole fucking photo album to get Wilkerson off my back, at least for the immediate future.

“Blaze.”

I stand up and wipe my hands on the front of my jeans. “I just finished. Your piping is fixed. Good as new.” I point a thumb at the troughs. “Why don’t you go and check them out?”

My eyes betray me and creep toward the house. Tyler is in the window, staring down at me. But there’s no frat-boy smirk on his face this time.

“Oh my God! They’re full!” Savannah turns and runs over to me. Then she throws her arms around me and hugs me tight, and fuck me if I don’t melt a little at that. But it only lasts for a second, and she jumps back, her eyes wide.

“Sorry, I just got excited.” A sheepish smile spreads across her face. “I baked some lemon-blueberry scones. Are you hungry? I remember they were your favorite. And you definitely earned them with everything you did today.”

I nod toward the house. “Looks like you’ve got company. I don’t think I should stay.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’d left Tyler a message about the water issue, and he decided to stop by to check in on things. Make sure there were no rusty nails around.” A nervous laugh escapes her lips.

“Yeah, well, I appreciate it, but I’m just gonna go.”

I pick up the box of tools and equipment and am heading toward my truck when Savannah’s fingers graze my arm.

Crushing waves of want, guilt, and disgust attack me on all sides, pummeling me into an emotional oblivion. Her fingertips are like a live wire against my skin, flooding my insides with electricity. I know she feels it, too, since she pulls her hand away like she’s just touched fire.

“Go, Savannah,” I say. “There’s nothing for you here. We both know it.” I hoist the box higher in my arms and turn away from her when every cell in my body wants me to pull her close and never let her go.

“I don’t think you mean that.”

I stare at her for a long minute. “You want to know what I mean?” I step closer, my voice rough. “I mean that Tyler’s alive because I’m walking away right now. I mean that every man who looks at you makes me want to do things that’d put me away for a damn long time. I mean you should be terrified of what I’m capable of when it comes to you. So yeah, Savvie. There’s nothing here for you. Except a man who’d burn this whole town down before he’d let anyone else have you.”