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My shoulders slump. “What can we do differently?”

Wayne blows out a raspberry. “Who the hell even knows? It feels like we’re running a race with no finish line.”

My brother hauls himself up, placing the lid on the pot of soup and making room for it in the fridge. I stand and help him, but he shoos me away. “Go to bed, Linc. I can clean up.”

I sigh. “Okay, thanks. I’m on dish duty tomorrow.”

“I won’t argue with you.” He smirks.

Five minutes later, I’m showered and closing my bedroom door. The same bedroom I occupied as a teenager—I upgraded to a king-sized bed, though. Calamity Jane squeezes through just before the door latches. She looks up at me with a purr-meow and rubs her head against my legs.

“What are you doing inside?” I shake my head, knowing Wayne is a sucker for letting her in when it’s cold.

Smiling, I reach down and scratch her behind the ears. I crawl under my bedspread, and the cat hops up and makes herself comfortable at my feet.

I’m too exhausted to throw her outside, so I lay there and enjoy the extra warmth. Staring at my ceiling, my mind whirs with thoughts of Hattie.

I think of how easily I fell asleep nestled behind her, having my arm around her to keep her safe. Sleep isn’t something that comes easily to me, not since my parents died…but I could’ve slept for twenty hours straight with her body nestled against me.

If Hank wouldn’t have banged on that door, who knows how long we would’ve slept? Maybe all night. My thoughts drift, wondering if Hattie was here beside me in bed, would we talk about our days? Would we fall asleep in each other’s arms? Or maybe argue with each other before we worked out our differences naked and tangled up in my sheets.

My bedroom always feels embarrassing as a fully grown man, but tonight it also feels lonely.

And I know exactly who I want here with me.

I wasn’t supposed to get attached to her, but one kiss, and she owns me.

But I ran out of there to avoid my growing attachment to her…ran from her. I’m a coward, and now she knows it, too.

CHAPTER 20

Hattie

When I direct Dolly toward the short jump in the center of the paddock, she halts, refusing to even step over the pole. Today I’m training her with a lunge line, and she’s not having any of it.

We’ve only done groundwork half a dozen times, so it’s irrational to be frustrated by this…and yet, I’m frustrated.

I groan loudly. “Dolly, come on, girl. We were doing so well a few days ago. What happened?”

She snorts a breath through her snout.

I think she’s still pissed about getting stuck in the freezing weather yesterday, and I can’t blame her. I’m mad, too, but for a different reason.

Getting stuck out there was awful…until Lincoln went into protector mode and got us all safely to the hunting lodge. He was so motivated, so calm. I felt cared for…and my stomach gets all swirly every time I think of our kisses.

But then I remember how he left last night without even saying goodbye. Just put the mares away and rushed out of here like nothing happened, like we didn’t share the sexiest moment of my whole damn life.

And now I’m taking my frustration out on poor Dolly.

With a sigh, I stride toward the mare and lay my cheek against her shoulder, breathing in the scent of straw and soaking up her warmth beneath my skin. “Let’s get you settled in for the night, girl.”

It’s getting late, I’m cold, and Dolly is clearly over it.

She stomps her hoof like she’s saying it’s about damn time, you wild woman.

I chuckle, tugging on her bridle until she follows me toward the mare barn.

It’s warm in the barn, and I take my time brushing Dolly and feeding her an apple before closing the mare inside her stall for the night. She leans her head over the gate like she’s not ready for me to leave, so I stay and whisper sweet compliments to her while I scratch her ears.