Page 30 of Wild Sanctuary

The back door opens, bringing the smell of hay and evening air. The men file back in, boots stomping, voices low. Colt makes a beeline for the leftover cobbler. West heads for the coffee pot. Rhett hangs back by the door, comfortable in his quiet way.

And Wyatt⁠—

Wyatt’s eyes find mine across the room as June clears her throat. “We were just talking about the Henderson fundraiser on Friday. Daisy should come as our guest.”

Wyatt’s gaze doesn’t leave my face. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then there’s a low “Mm.”

That’s it. That’s all I’m getting. Just “Mm.” Not even a full grunt this time.

“Is that a yes?” I can’t help the challenge that creeps into my voice.

His eyes never waver from mine. “It’s not a no.”

“High praise from Wyatt Hartley.” Colt grins around a mouthful of cobbler. “That’s practically a marriage proposal.”

“Shut up, Colt.”

I bite back a smile. His grumpiness shouldn’t be endearing. It absolutely should not make me want to poke at him until he cracks.

But it does.

“I don’t know.” I tilt my head. “I’d expect at least a grunt of commitment. Maybe two if he’s feeling romantic.”

He exhales through his nose before turning away to pour himself coffee, but not before I catch the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

And there it is again.

Not quite a smile. But oh-so close.

I sip my wine and soak up the kind of evening I forgot I was missing.

And underneath it all, questions I’m getting closer to answering.

Whether anyone wants me to or not.

8

WYATT

On Monday morning, I find a dozen reasons to be near the main barn.

It’s not because Daisy mentioned she’d be interviewing Old Dave first thing. It’s purely because the tack room needs reorganizing. And the feed delivery is due. And there’s a gate hinge that’s been squeaking for a week.

It’s all legitimate work.

Nothing to do with her.

Fucking liar.

I’m checking the hinge—for the third time—when I hear them.

Dave’s voice carries across the yard, that familiar gravelly tone punctuated by wheezing laughter. And then hers curiously asking questions I can’t quite make out from this distance.

I should leave. Go find something to do on the other side of the property.

Instead, I drift closer. Close enough to hear. Not close enough to be caught.

Just to make sure Dave’s not overwhelming her with too many stories. The man could talk the ear off a fence post.