25. Shiloh
Shiloh
When I walk out of my room, Ledger is leaning against the wall in the hallway, opposite my door.
He stands up straight, and his eyes widen.
Letting him get his fill, I brush my clammy hands over my milkmaid-style dress and keep messing with my hair.
I found my dress at a resale shop and fell in love with it.
It’s a light olive green that complements my eyes.
It’s sleeveless and ties in the front. I like the way it sits across my chest, and the corset-like ties give it a little something extra in the back.
But what sold me is the slit running up my leg that’s just enough, but not too high.
I’m so short anything I’ve ever tried on with a slit goes too high, and I’d end up flashing everyone with every step.
No one has ever looked at me the way he does. A thought in the back of my mind pricks, and for a second I wonder if I’m into all of this because of the way he treats me. I’ve been struggling to trust myself, and it’s making me question everything.
“You look beautiful, Shy,” Ledger rasps.
My face feels hot, and I look away from his penetrating gaze. I swear the man sees right through me.
“Thanks,” I rasp.
He smiles and my stomach flutters. I stare at him for a moment.
His hair is still slightly damp and swept back from his face, but it doesn’t look like he combed it into place.
I like that he’s not all done up like I usually see him.
He’s wearing his classic button-up, tucked into Wranglers that hug his thighs, with a leather belt and shiny buckle sitting at his waist.
“Ready?” he asks, taking a step toward me.
“Yeah,” I rasp, and he closes the small distance. I relent, backing into the wall. His free hand rests next to my head, and he stoops down as I tip my chin up.
He gazes down at me and I’m pretty sure there’s a whole swarm of bumblebees in my stomach. Everything feels warm and I can’t breathe.
Something crosses Ledger’s serious face, and he leans down to kiss me on the cheek before stepping back to let me pass.
I walk down the hall, stopping at the end of it, seeing the new couch and coffee table.
The window is still boarded up, and other furniture is still gone, but it doesn’t feel as exposing as it was.
I should have known Grey would do something. Granted, I thought he’d come for me, like he’d done in the past. I didn’t think he’d have the balls to threaten Ledger.
“What do you think?” Ledger asks from behind me.
“Looks comfy.”
“Good, I picked what they had stocked,” he says.
He heads for the kitchen, and I follow behind, spotting the candles in the center of the dining table with flowers next to them.
“Where did these come from?” I ask him.
He smiles softly. “I bought them for you.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“So they match my date,” he says with a glint in his eyes.
I bite my lower lip, trying to swallow my smile and hide the odd nervousness I’m feeling. Then again, it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date.
“Can I get you something to drink? Beer, wine, whiskey?” he asks.
“Whiskey sounds good.”
Ledger turns and grabs a beer and a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. He pours the whiskey into a glass and hands it to me.
“Take a seat while I get things going,” he says.
“Are you sure I can’t help?” I ask him and take a sip.
He shakes his head. “Nope, I’m fine.”
I sigh and watch him work, dropping potatoes into a pot and turning them on to boil. He seasons the steaks and sets them to the side, then starts cutting up vegetables for the salad.
“Have you always wanted to be a sheriff?” I ask him.
It hit me the other day that we know each other simply because we’ve grown up in the same town.
But the longer I’ve lived with him, the more he does for me, for his family, for this town.
I realize I don’t know Ledger as well as I assumed.
There is much more that meets the eye to the rule-following cowboy.
He stops chopping and looks up at me. “That’s a random question.”
I shrug and take a drink. “I’m full of surprises.”
He huffs and starts chopping carrots. “You’re right about that.”
“And?” I push him.
“I don’t know. I guess I knew one day I’d have to take over more of the ranch and help Fletcher.
He’s running it for the most part. But on top of being a cowboy, I wanted to do something else for a bit.
I talked to deputies after we graduated high school, and that’s what sold me on it.
So I did my schooling, worked my way up, and here we are. ”
He’s always the man with a plan.
“What about you? Did you want to do the college thing?” he asks.
I look up from my glass and meet his gaze. He’s not chopping because he’s giving me his full attention, waiting for an answer. I don’t know why I expected judgement from him, but there’s not a hint of it on his handsome face.
“When we graduated, I was having so much fun I didn’t want to be stuck in a classroom again. Plus, my grades weren’t great so I don’t think I would have gotten in, and then the whole cost of school would’ve made it nearly impossible. I don’t like the thought of being in debt.”
Ledger nods and goes back to chopping.
“There was a day when I had a dream to start a distillery. I started working with super small batches and experimenting, but it’s expensive to experiment with, and I didn’t have the cash.”
“Why a distillery?”
I shrug and spin my bottle around. “I found it interesting. I like whiskey, bourbon, and scotch. So I wondered what it would be like to do my own thing with it.”
“Have you made any?”
My stomach twists, and I blink away the tears making a surprise appearance. I don’t know why I still feel this way because it was so long ago, but I do, and I kind of hate myself a little for it.
The knife clangs on the cutting board, and Ledger comes around the island, tipping my chin up with his finger and thumb. “What’s this about?” he asks with a frown.
I lift my hand and smooth out the furrow in his brow.
“I did,” I sigh, closing my eyes.
“What do you mean you did?” His hand drops, and he slips it to the back of my neck.
I lean into the touch, opening my eyes.
“Grey … got mad about something. I don’t even remember what it was about.
It wasn’t something I did. It was probably something with his family.
But, uh, I had saved up for months to buy this kit to get started.
I researched the heck out of it, sourced my corn and grain because I had an idea for a specific mash.
I made it, put it in my charred white oak barrel, and stored it up in the attic, you know, for temperature changes and stuff.
I had brought it down to turn it because you’re supposed to do that, and I …
” I trail off because he doesn’t need this whole story.
“Go on,” he encourages.
“I brought it down to take a small sample, and I left it on the counter, and like I said, he got mad and threw it, and some of the staves cracked, and then the cork popped out and it all spilled out. He apologized for it. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, but yeah …”
Ledger stares at me, and I can’t figure out what he’s thinking.
“What’s that face for?” I ask him.
He scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “I’m sorry that happened. Did you try again?”
“No,” I rasp. “I was heartbroken, and honestly a little afraid to try it again. But when I did try it, I thought it could be something. It had body to it, a few notes of cinnamon and brown sugar.”
He hums and runs a hand over my hair before kissing my forehead. “Sounds like you’ll just have to try it again.”
I shrug. “It’s whatever. Maybe it’s not meant to be.”
“Or maybe you had a setback, and it’s worth trying again.”
He goes back to the cutting board, and we’re quiet. The air changed, and wish I hadn’t said anything.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to … talk about him or bring down the mood,” I mutter and stare at the brown liquid in my glass.
“Shy, look at me.”
I obey, lifting my head.
“You didn’t bring anything down. I want to know these things,” he says.
The bumblebees buzz in my stomach and my body feels all gooey inside.
“Oh, okay.”
He chuckles. “Did you name it?”
“What? The whiskey?”
He nods and tosses the last of the carrots and adds some dried cherries.
I smile to myself. I’ve never told anyone this before.
“Yeah, I named it Wild Girl Whiskey.”
Ledger snorts and checks the potatoes again.
“What? Don’t laugh! I’ve never told anyone that before!”
He grins at me. “No, I wasn’t laughing at you. I actually think it’s perfect.”
I blink and my body tingles. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Thanks,” I whisper.
“I think you should try it again,” he says over his shoulder.
I bit my lip, staring at the wide expanse of his back. “Maybe I will.”
He turns and a small smile sits on his mouth, and for some reason, that makes me happy.
“Alright, I’m going to get these steaks on the grill.”
I hop off my seat and follow him. “I’ll come with you.”
“This is a one-man job, criminal,” he says.
I purse my lips and cross my arms. “I’m sorry, I thought this was a date, and we were supposed to be together.”
Ledger chuckles and pulls me to his side. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” I huff.
He leads the way out of the kitchen and onto the back deck, where the grill sits.
I flow him out of the sliding door and off to the side while he lights the grill. The wind blows my hair back, and I take a deep inhale of the fall air, ignoring the goosebumps rising over my arms.
Once it’s to temperature, Ledger drops the steaks on the grill and closes the lid.
I lean against the railing, looking out over the rises and dips of the mountains in the distance. I wonder what whiskey would do up there. The temperature changes are unpredictable. When summer comes, it’s still cool, but the snow melts off. Hmm.
Ledger comes up behind me, pressing into my back. His arms slide around my waist, and he buries his nose into my neck.
“You smell delicious,” he grumbles.
I laugh and rest a hand on his arm. “Thanks, I think.”