Page 67 of Wild Sanctuary

I move to the next post and we fall into the rhythm we’ve perfected over the years. The creek is loud, the sky is that particular blue shade of high elevation in late spring, and my shoulders burn in a way I’ve decided is better than the alternative.

It almost works.

Almost.

The weight of her hand against my chest. The smell of her hair. And that sound… that fucking sound that won’t leave me alone.

I’m starting to think there isn’t a fence post deep enough to drive it out.

Goddammit.

I move to the next one.

We work through the rest of the morning without talking much, which suits me fine. By the time the sun is high enough to warrant stopping for water, my hands are good and sore, and the creek’s still running hard beside us, and none of it is working even slightly.

My phone vibrates mid-afternoon, but I’m in a rhythm, so I let it go. It vibrates again immediately, which means it’s June, because she’s the only one who calls back inside ten seconds. Hastily, I pull it out and answer before she escalates to Colt.

Her face fills the screen, freckled and serious with the kitchen window lit up in gold behind her.

“Hey, Wy.” She sounds careful, her eyes roving over my face as though checking for damage. “How’s the fence situation?”

“Whole north line’s shot past Elk Creek.”

She takes a breath, and I know that breath the way I know my own hands. There’s a particular quality to it with a small deliberate pause before she says the thing she’s already decided to say, regardless of what I want to hear.

“Last night at the auction⁠—”

“June.”

“Wyatt, just let me⁠—”

“Whatever you’re building up to, I don’t need it.” I turn slightly away from where Rhett is working, not that it matters. “Say what you actually need from me.”

Her jaw sets. “You spent two thousand dollars in front of the entire town.”

“I’m aware of what I spent.”

“She’s—”

“She’s Tom’s daughter.” Quiet. Final. The kind of quiet that means I’m not moving from this. It’s the only version of her I can afford to see. “I was looking out for her. It’s not a conversation.”

Whatever happened last night, I won’t let that happen again.

The silence that comes back is the specific kind June deploys when she’s furious and has decided the most devastating thing she can do is give me exactly what I asked for.

“Right.” Her voice is sharp. One word and it lands like a closed door. “Fix your goddamn fence, Wyatt.”

The call ends.

I pocket the phone and pick up the wire spool and don’t check it again for three hours, by which point my pocket has been buzzing on and off long enough that I know exactly what it is before I look.

Rhett glances up from the wire he’s working. “Hellions?”

“Hellions.”

He nods once, mouth twitching. “Figured. Been countin’ the notifications comin’ through.”

COLT