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“Why’s that?”
“’Cause it’s a step up from you hating me.” He gently pulled the fish out of the fire and set the closed packet down on a stone slab. We sat in comfortable silence, listening to the gentle sounds of the nightlife buzzing around us as the fish slowly cooled off. There was something different about him, something that I knew had changed earlier, but I still wasn’t sure what it was.
An unusual serenity yet pained stillness settled upon his frame, and he leaned back, lifting his gaze to the sparkling sky above us. Silver stars twinkled, dancing like two lovers floating in a gondola down a gently flowing river.
Once the sizzling of the fish died down enough that he could touch the wrapper, Cassidy tore open the foil, and we ate in more silence. It was a silence that left me with so much confusion and uncertainty. But I didn’t want to be left to thoughts of torment, and I needed a distraction.
“So, what’s the plan for when we get back?” I asked, breaking the heavy bubble that weighed around us. I steered the subject away from whatever was or wasn’t happening between us over toward the problem that we could solve. The real issue at hand.
Cassidy popped a piece of fish in his mouth and chewed for a moment. His hands brushed down his jeans, as his gaze focused on the flames dancing in front of us. “Well,” he began and finally looked at me. Heat as warm as the fire blazed into my core. “I’m gonna get to trainin’ that horse of yours like I promised I would. And let’s pray that Cash has already contacted the authorities.”
My brows knitted together. “You want Cash to have handled it?”
He nodded and pulled his hat from his head. “Yeah. One less thing for me to worry ’bout.”
“But isn’t stuff like that your job as a foreman?” I shouldn’t have dug, but I dug. Guilt curdled in my throat, but I swallowed down the bile.
“Yes, but Cash will have gotten down to Weston sooner. Plus, seeing as they are best friends, I doubt he’s waitin’ for me to show up to tell my brother about what happened.”
“So, he could do your job.” I raised a brow, mimicking his usual quizzical expression, and his lips pulled tight.
“Briar, don’t,” he snapped, cautioning me. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to get him to admit what I knew, what Rooney knew, what he deep down had to know.
“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re making an excuse for a job that you apparently ‘love’ doing,” I pressed.
Cassidy shoved the hat back on his head and stood up so quickly, the log we shared as a seat rocked with me still on it. “That has nothing to do with me hoping Cash has already started the process.”
Standing up, I faced him, challenging his abrupt shift. “Then what does?”
“One, I shot a man, Briar! Granted, he shot me first, but I still shot someone trying to make sure you, Cash, Keaton, Butch, none of the other hands got hurt. That’s legal paperwork that takes time, and while you may not realize it, I’d like for that process to have already started so hopefully I don’t go to jail for protecting things I care about.” He balled up his fists and took a very slow, deep breath.
“And two, I’ve seen a lot of nasty things in my life, and if I can avoid going back to where that mama cow and her calf were killed, I’d like to do so. That was unlike anything else,” he muttered.
“Oh,” I sheepishly said and hung my head. “I didn’t really think about any of that.”
“It’s fine, Goldie,” he answered. Fingers suddenly brushed against my chin and applied pressure. When I raised my head, Cassidy gave me a tense smile. “A lot happened; you’ve probably got a lot on your mind.”
Even more shame crumpled my figure. He was making excuses for my confusing behavior that even I didn’t quite get. Was this because of my fear of Wayde? Was it because my dad died and was possibly killed? Whatever the reason, Cassidy didn’t deserve it.
“One of which is what happens if the um…dead cow scene isn’t there by the time the authorities finally show up?” I admitted—off topic from what he was hinting at, I knew that, but I was curious and not wanting to think about it anymore.
Cassidy’s shoulders raised with his chuckle, and he dropped his hand from my chin. I immediately wished his touch was back against my body. “Marshall, one of the hands, is keeping an eye on it to make sure none of those poachers or curious critters come around and mess with the evidence.”
“You really think they’re just poachers?” I asked, and I don’t know why I did it, but I stepped forward and immediately plastered my body against his. He tensed beneath my arms as I encircled them around his waist.
“Uh…” His chest rumbled with his shocked hum. I closed my eyes and could feel his arms raise, but he didn’t touch me. Not just yet. The hesitation pulled a smile onto my lips, which I hid against his chest. Finally, his body relaxed, and he dug one set of fingers into the back of my shirt, and the other through my hair. “Either that or illegal hunters. Like you said, Wayde’s one guy, and we’ve had both poachers and illegal hunters over the years.”
Smushing my face against his chest, I inhaled. Leather, hay, even a bit of salty sweat danced into my senses. “But they came after you, instead of running away.”
“Yeah, that’s crossed my mind…” he mumbled. “Crossed my mind.” His voice was low, hesitant, and distant. Despite being wrapped up tight in a hold that I craved, he felt far away. I knew I was a thousand miles away, once again feeling the thoughts tugging at the back of my mind that maybe seeing if Cassidy wanted to go on a date wasn’t such a bad idea.
Once we got back, he wouldn’t be forced to be around me. So, if he still was interested, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it? It would give me time to sort through my feelings.
Wait, why was I toying with this idea of wanting him around me?
Better question, why was I voluntarily letting him hold me, while I held him right back?
Hold on.
