Page 86 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

I flex my hand. “It pulls a little.”

“That’s normal.”

Outside, the shouting has faded into the background, replaced by the distant hiss of water meeting hot metal, while the kitchen feels almost untouched by the fire except for the smoke clinging to our clothes.

Emmett studies my bandaged hand, then rubs the back of his neck. “I scared myself out there.” I lift my eyes to his. “I figured you were about to charge straight into that trailer.”

“I wasn’t. I was trying to help.” I look down. “I couldn’t stand there doing nothing.”

“I noticed.” He leans against the cabinet, giving me room while he folds his arms. “That’s who you are. If somebody’s hurting, you head their way.”

I shrug. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I’m not arguing with your heart.” His smile softens. “I’m arguing with your survival instincts. You would’ve kept hauling buckets with a burned hand if I hadn’t stopped you.”

“I probably would’ve.”

“I know.” He says it with the weary acceptance of a man who’s already replayed the whole scene in his head. “So who usually patches you up?”

I glance down at the clean white bandage around my hand and run my thumb over it. “I’ve been patching myself up for years.” I try to smile. “Nobody’s usually around to do it for me.”

He waits, giving me every chance to leave it there.

Instead, I hear myself keep talking. “It gets easier when you don’t stay anywhere long enough for people to worry.” He doesn’t interrupt. “If you leave before anybody gets attached, nobody expects you to come back.”

His brow furrows. “Does that actually make leaving easier?”

“It makes it simpler.”

He studies me for a while before shaking his head. “I don’t buy it.”

“No?”

“I’ve watched you with Sadie.” I look up. “You’ve only been here a handful of days, and she’d probably chain you to the porch if she thought it’d keep you around.”

I laugh. “She might.”

“You’ll miss her.”

“I will.”

“So leaving still hurts.” His gaze never leaves mine. “You’ve just had more practice pretending it doesn’t.”

I don’t have an answer ready this time.

I look down at the clean white bandage wrapped around my hand while Emmett stays crouched in front of me, still watching for any sign that the burn’s bothering me more than I’m letting on.

I rub my thumb along the edge of the bandage after Emmett lets go of my hand, wishing I had another joke ready because jokes have always been easier than the truth.

“I’ve made a habit of leaving before anybody has much reason to miss me,” I admit.

“That sounds like a lonely way to live.”

I rest my elbows on the table. “I play a town for a few nights, learn people’s names, promise I’ll come back one day, then another booking comes along and I keep driving. After a while, everybody gets used to it.”

“You included?”

I laugh under my breath and shake my head. “Maybe.”