Page 113 of Saddle Storm

He nods, looking ahead, taking a slow sip. “She tell you?”

I glance at him. Too tired to confront anyone else tonight about keeping things from me.

“He showed up at the game tonight. Saw us leaving together.”

“Shit.” He shakes his head. “She must be in bad shape. Hope you plan on going back.”

I frown, lifting my drink. “Course I’m going back. I just needed a minute to . . . not look at her.” The words feel like a betrayal. Foreign and sour. Because she’s all I ever want to look at. But right now it makes it hard to think straight.

After a beat, my brother sucks in a deep breath. “Know how you feel,” he grunts. “Dad took me out for a few beers that night.”

I nod slow, instantly knowing what he’s talking about. “I remember.”

The day of Ellie’s custody hearing, Willow ran out of the courthouse and into my car after Dallas lost his daughter to her grandfather. Apparently, the lawyer found and used information Willow held back. Somehow proving their marriage was staged.

Dallas pats my back. “Thanks again for getting her home safe for me.” He takes a sip. “But like you, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind I was going back to her that night. It doesn’t make you weak or unsupportive. It makes you human. This is the woman you love and she kept something from you you probably should’ve known. But doesn’t change how you feel about each other.”

I shake my head, my stomach turning with guilt and confusion. “How can I sit here and blame her for something she did when she was eighteen?”

He takes another long sip, not bothering to answer.

“She came looking for me, Dal. That’s what makes me sick the most. It should’ve been me there that night.”

“Why wasn’t it?”

“I’d already gone by the time she showed up. Jasper said I’d left with some girl. Then offered her a drink. He knew I had a soft spot for her.”

“Then why we sitting here instead of bashing this guy’s head in?”

“I’m on a tight leash to stay low.” I take a sip, the glass icy in my palm, like it’s freezing me in place when all I want to do is burst.

“Who said anything about you throwin’ the punches?”

“Dallas, if I’m good at anything, it’s knockin’ someone out cold. Least you could do is let me prove it.”

He chuckles and backhands my arm lightly. “You remember when Wilder went to New York to get Rose back last summer? And I needed help around here?”

I toss him a smirk. “I remember seeing you laugh for the first time in months when I held a pitchfork like it was a hockey stick.”

He laughs, almost the same way he did back then. And as nice as it was seeing him let loose after Millie died, I didn’t laugh along. Somehow, I’m finding the humor now.

He shakes his head, lifting his glass. “I say, having you back here for those few days was the medicine I didn’t know I needed.”

I frown at the admission, clink my glass to his. “Good.”

“Look, I know it sucks. It’s a downright shit situation. But Storm’s had to live with it for ten years. Alone.”

“Fuck you’re right.” I clench my teeth. “But I’m gonna need more than a few hours to get past it, you know?”

“Sure do,” he says bitterly. “Sure do. But you gotta be upfront about that with her. She’s a smart, tough girl. She’ll get it.”

I think about the hurt in her eyes when I was leaving. And how quick she was to cover it.

“That kid you hung out with in high school was always a prick. But you’re forgetting one important fact. She’s yours now. Always meant to be.”

My chest feels raw. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because Storm has always been your girl. Why you think we hired her on the spot—especially coming from Callahans?”