Page 50 of The Cowboy and the Stray

And if that was the case, I didn't like the way it made me think. If she needed to run, maybe I'd be the one giving chase.

25. TESS

Bone-tired didn't cover it. My arms ached. My back ached. My whole damn life ached. I was worn down to the bones, ready to snap. It didn't help that it was hot as blazes and Calder hadn't let up. The man ran a tight ship, and I was this close to drowning.

I grabbed another hay bale, the twine rough under my fingers, and hurled it toward the chute with everything I had.

"Careful!" Calder shouted as it crashed short, the straw exploding around his head like confetti.

Oops. Damn it.

I stared down at him from the loft, suddenly too mad to even apologize. Maybe I didn't mean to come close to hit him. He didn't have to fly off the handle.

"What's your deal?" He wiped the straw from his shoulders, his brows pulling together.

"My deal?" I shot back. "My deal is I'm doing the best I can, okay?"

God, lay off, cowboy.

Calder looked up at me, and even from this distance, I could feel his gaze, searching and heavy. He was waiting for an answer I didn't know how to give.

"Everything all right up there?" His voice had softened, and I hated it. I hated that he thought I was fragile.

Don’t go gentle on me now, damn it. "I'm fine," I said, my words sharp as broken glass. "It's nothing. Just leave it."

He set his jaw, not looking away. "It sure as hell sounds like something."

I stood there, fists clenched at my sides. All the effort, all the pretending, all the wanting to belong when I knew I never would. It boiled over before I could stop it. "You wanna know what my deal is?" I shouted. "I'm always the disposable one. That's what my deal is. I never fit. Never stay. And you—" I cut myself off, the rest of it lodged in my throat like a bone. Nope. Not going there. Not today.

"Me?" Calder's voice echoed up, full of challenge and something else. Something raw. "What about me?" He wasn't going to let this drop, and part of me wanted to fight, to push until he hated me like everyone else eventually did. Until he left.

I threw my arms up, trying to find the words. "You're just like—" I stopped again, breathing hard. I'd almost said like Lance. My head spun with the fear of it, and I almost wanted to apologize for the space I was taking. For being a burden. For not fitting here, not fitting anywhere. God, why did I even open my mouth?

"I'm just..." The words started, and I couldn't exactly stop them. "I don't belong here, okay? I don't know how to do this. I screw everything up. I'm just—" I clamped my mouth shut. No one needed to hear that. Not even me.

"You're just what?" His gaze held me, steady and unwavering. "Tess. Talk to me."

The loft swam, and I gripped the beam, grounding myself. "You wanna know what my deal is?" I said again, softer this time. "I get left behind. That's what my deal is. So just stop trying to make it sound like anything else."

I braced myself for his anger, for him to tell me to pack up and leave. For this place to fall apart like every other place I'd tried to make my own.

Calder looked up at me, not saying anything for a long moment. His eyes were different now, not just searching but full of something that scared the hell out of me. I saw a hundred things flash across his face, but none of them were anger. None of them were disgust or regret. He ran a hand through his hair, his mouth curving into something between a smile and a frown. "You think you're the only one who feels that way?" he asked quietly.

Wait. What? I couldn't find my voice. I couldn't find anything but the stupid hope building in my chest.

Calder dusted more straw from his arms and shook his head, almost like he was in awe of me. Like I was a mystery he couldn't solve. "You don't have a clue how wrong you are," he said, so softly I almost didn't hear it.

I stood there, unable to move. Unable to breathe. I'd cracked open something inside me, something that couldn't be put back together. Something Calder had seen. I sank to the floor, my legs too weak to hold me. "I'm sorry," I said, my throat tight and my hands shaking. "I shouldn't have⁠—"

Calder was already climbing the ladder, and I scrambled back, surprised at how close he'd gotten. "You think I don't want you here?" he asked, reaching the top. "You think I can't see how hard you're trying?"

"I don't know what to think," I admitted, the truth of it leaving me raw and exposed. "You're you, and I'm..." I trailed off, hugging my knees to my chest. Totally nailing this emotional breakdown. Gold medal material.

Calder crouched in front of me, the warmth of him radiating through the hay dust. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Well, I do." My words were more defiant than I intended, but they wavered in the air, fragile as a newborn calf.

"You don't have to." He looked at me with a seriousness that took my breath away. "You got that, Tess? You don't have to."