Page 126

I miss him.

It’s an ache in my heart.

I can hear his voice—hear him say my name, call me sweetheart, ask me to dance with him, hold me close, make me feel safe.

Not talking about Mason—and Maverick, the sumbitch is right, as Mav would say—doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about him all the time.

The questions swirl inside me.

Why did he do it?

Why did he do this to me?

It was hurting already when he left—when he rejected me. Did he have to crush my soul on the way out?

Trust is a scarce commodity, and I was already in the red after Griffin. Now my heart is broken, and I don’t think I’ll ever love again. More importantly, to love again, I have to stop loving the man who got under my skin and over my defenses, because my spirit recognized him in a way it never has before.

I scrub my face with my hands, trying to stem the tears, the pain—which I know is futile.

My grandmother used to say that you can’t escape pain. You have to walk through it like a warrior, and once you’re on the other side, you’ll be free of it.

The problem is that I don’t think I’ll ever be on the other side of this pain.

A sob escapes me, and I hold myself still as the despair of it overwhelms me—loving a man who didn’t want me, loving a man who betrayed me, loving a man who broke me.

My phone rings, and I glance at the screen with tear-filled eyes. I wipe them furiously as I answer.

“Clara?”

“Taya—God, Taya. There…remember that man? You know the one who came? That man…oh God, Taya.”

I stand up, my heart hammering. “Hey, hey, tell me what’s going on.”

“Dakota—ah—God!” Clara’s voice breaks.

“Clara, is everyone okay?” Panic wipes every other emotion out of me.

“Yes. Yes.” I hear her take deep breaths. “I’m in the bathroom having a nervous breakdown, Taya, so they won’t hear me.”

Clara is a strong person. Hearing her break apart like this is cause for concern.

“I’m on my way.” I pick up my car keys and wallet. “Have you called the Sheriff?”

“What?” She sounds so lost.

“Okay. You sit tight, and I’ll be there in twenty.”

I hear Dakota’s voice on the other side of the line. “Mama, are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, baby. I’m fine. I’ll be right out. You—ah—you stay with Eli.”

“Clara, go be with your kids,” I instruct. “We’ll take care of this.”

I call Sheriff Dillon from the Wrangler.

“Dillon.”

“Sheriff, you need to head to the Whitman ranch. A man was there—the same one who threatened her earlier.” I put that much together. “And she’s scared.”