Chapter 13
brIAR
His back faded from view, swallowed in the darkness that had fallen upon us. Something had changed. A shift in whatever strange waltz we were dancing. But I couldn’t figure it out. Part of me felt as if he was withdrawing, but the part of my heart that I denied existed screamed at me that I was wrong.
That it wasn’t him pulling away, but him handing me the reins.
I didn’t want them. I didn’t want to be in control of this because I wasn’t even sure what I was supposed to think yet. I hadn’t even figured out what that kiss meant to me, and here was my heart, telling me that he totally had actual feelings for me and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to explore my own if I did.
No, that wasn’t a good idea. I would be leaving the moment that horse was trained anyway. Or possibly sooner if there was a risk that Wayde might find Cassidy and his family. Curses.
My fingers worked desperately at the braid, one that was in dire need of redoing, but Cassidy might see my hair before I was finished doing it back up, and what would he think then? Would he be as weirded out by how long it was as every other person who ever saw it out of the braid?
Technically, he had seen it all tossed onto the top of my head in a messy bun the other morning. Man, my silk bonnet was going to be a religious thing I wore for the next month, because this hair had to be a dreadful mess now.
Slowly, I used a stick to flip the packet of fish that my stomach growled in desperation for. Cassidy had even let me finish the jerky while he’d gone fishing. He’d had nothing to eat, just as I had, and let me devour the only thing available along his frenzied journey started by a squirrel of all things.
All of this was because of a stinking squirrel.
Okay, so not technically all of it. Some of it was because of illegal hunters or poachers, and the other part was because I stole a horse.
I hated being confused and overwhelmed.
“What if I actually go to jail?” I suddenly cried out to no one.
“You’re not going to jail, Goldie,” Cassidy’s voice answered.
Jumping in my seat, I spun around and chucked the stick I was holding in the general vicinity of his voice before I could stop myself. Emerging from the trees behind me, he grunted, doubling forward as the broad side smacked into his stomach.
“Ow,” he harshly stated, lifting his tawny gaze to mine. “What was that for?”
“I—You—Don’t sneak up on people,” I grumbled.
His eyes sparkled as he stood upright and dusted off his damp shirt. “Yes, ma’am.” He shook his head lightly and walked my way. “How’s the fish doing?”
“I have no idea, I’ve never cooked fish on a fire before,” I responded, and he grinned wider. My body roared warm, watching each powerful yet casual step of his draw him nearer to me. His jeans hugged his legs, fitting just right around a frame that was made with extra care. Each inch that closed between us heightened the boiling in my belly. The ache that spread low in my core for someone who was completely off limits, heightened even more.
“And I don’t like you, so I’m fine if it burns,” I spat, not as harshly as I had hoped. I definitely didn’t not like him…
He chuckled as he walked around the edge of the log and plopped himself down closely beside me. Tipping his head in my direction, he raised that snarky brow. “You’ll burn your dinner, too, Goldie.” And he winked.
Why did he have to do that? The flames that flickered in front of me were no longer a match for the ones that roared beneath my skin.
“I threw the stick at you that I was using to flip the fish,” I grumbled.
He slowly leaned back and glanced up at the stars above us. Crossing one ankle over the other, he smiled gently. “Well, better go get it then.”
“Excuse me?” I gasped, shocked that he wouldn’t offer.
“Why in the Alabama Betty Crocker would you think I’d go get the weapon you assaulted me with?”
“I didn’t assault you! You snuck up on me. Besides, how was I supposed to know it was you and not one of those illegal hunters or whatever?”
“Did it sound like me?”
“Well, yes,” I sheepishly admitted.
“And you think that one of those trespassers sounds exactly like me?” he asked.
“Well, no.”
“Then why in the world did you think it wasn’t me?”
I threw my hands in the air. “I—Well, there were—You walk—“
“I’m teasing, Goldie. Just wait here, and I’ll be back with the stick,” he answered and stood up. My heart hammered in my chest, both from how easy talking to him came and how exciting it was. Why did he have to be so annoyingly perfect and amazing? Okay, so maybe hating him for being perfect was the lie and I hated… UGH! Why couldn’t I just let it go and accept him for him? Why was I still trying to push him away?
“I was joking too!” I called over my shoulder.
“In what way?” he shouted. I glanced back at him as he bent down and snatched the stick from the ground.
“I don’t hate you.”
“Oh?”
“But I still don’t like you,” I quickly added.
His deep chuckle floated around our small campground like a gentle storm bringing in much-needed moisture. “I can live with that.”
I tracked him as he swung the stick around like a sword while meandering back over to the fire. “You can live with me not liking you?” I asked as he sat down beside me and prodded the coals with the stick.
“Yes,” he answered, raising a mischievous brow in my direction.
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause it’s a step up from you hating me.” He gently pulled the fish out of the fire and set the closed packet down on a stone slab. We sat in comfortable silence, listening to the gentle sounds of the nightlife buzzing around us as the fish slowly cooled off. There was something different about him, something that I knew had changed earlier, but I still wasn’t sure what it was.
An unusual serenity yet pained stillness settled upon his frame, and he leaned back, lifting his gaze to the sparkling sky above us. Silver stars twinkled, dancing like two lovers floating in a gondola down a gently flowing river.
Once the sizzling of the fish died down enough that he could touch the wrapper, Cassidy tore open the foil, and we ate in more silence. It was a silence that left me with so much confusion and uncertainty. But I didn’t want to be left to thoughts of torment, and I needed a distraction.
“So, what’s the plan for when we get back?” I asked, breaking the heavy bubble that weighed around us. I steered the subject away from whatever was or wasn’t happening between us over toward the problem that we could solve. The real issue at hand.
Cassidy popped a piece of fish in his mouth and chewed for a moment. His hands brushed down his jeans, as his gaze focused on the flames dancing in front of us. “Well,” he began and finally looked at me. Heat as warm as the fire blazed into my core. “I’m gonna get to trainin’ that horse of yours like I promised I would. And let’s pray that Cash has already contacted the authorities.”
My brows knitted together. “You want Cash to have handled it?”
He nodded and pulled his hat from his head. “Yeah. One less thing for me to worry ’bout.”
“But isn’t stuff like that your job as a foreman?” I shouldn’t have dug, but I dug. Guilt curdled in my throat, but I swallowed down the bile.
“Yes, but Cash will have gotten down to Weston sooner. Plus, seeing as they are best friends, I doubt he’s waitin’ for me to show up to tell my brother about what happened.”
“So, he could do your job.” I raised a brow, mimicking his usual quizzical expression, and his lips pulled tight.
“Briar, don’t,” he snapped, cautioning me. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to get him to admit what I knew, what Rooney knew, what he deep down had to know.
“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re making an excuse for a job that you apparently ‘love’ doing,” I pressed.
Cassidy shoved the hat back on his head and stood up so quickly, the log we shared as a seat rocked with me still on it. “That has nothing to do with me hoping Cash has already started the process.”
Standing up, I faced him, challenging his abrupt shift. “Then what does?”
“One, I shot a man, Briar! Granted, he shot me first, but I still shot someone trying to make sure you, Cash, Keaton, Butch, none of the other hands got hurt. That’s legal paperwork that takes time, and while you may not realize it, I’d like for that process to have already started so hopefully I don’t go to jail for protecting things I care about.” He balled up his fists and took a very slow, deep breath.
“And two, I’ve seen a lot of nasty things in my life, and if I can avoid going back to where that mama cow and her calf were killed, I’d like to do so. That was unlike anything else,” he muttered.
“Oh,” I sheepishly said and hung my head. “I didn’t really think about any of that.”
“It’s fine, Goldie,” he answered. Fingers suddenly brushed against my chin and applied pressure. When I raised my head, Cassidy gave me a tense smile. “A lot happened; you’ve probably got a lot on your mind.”
Even more shame crumpled my figure. He was making excuses for my confusing behavior that even I didn’t quite get. Was this because of my fear of Wayde? Was it because my dad died and was possibly killed? Whatever the reason, Cassidy didn’t deserve it.
“One of which is what happens if the um…dead cow scene isn’t there by the time the authorities finally show up?” I admitted—off topic from what he was hinting at, I knew that, but I was curious and not wanting to think about it anymore.
Cassidy’s shoulders raised with his chuckle, and he dropped his hand from my chin. I immediately wished his touch was back against my body. “Marshall, one of the hands, is keeping an eye on it to make sure none of those poachers or curious critters come around and mess with the evidence.”
“You really think they’re just poachers?” I asked, and I don’t know why I did it, but I stepped forward and immediately plastered my body against his. He tensed beneath my arms as I encircled them around his waist.
“Uh…” His chest rumbled with his shocked hum. I closed my eyes and could feel his arms raise, but he didn’t touch me. Not just yet. The hesitation pulled a smile onto my lips, which I hid against his chest. Finally, his body relaxed, and he dug one set of fingers into the back of my shirt, and the other through my hair. “Either that or illegal hunters. Like you said, Wayde’s one guy, and we’ve had both poachers and illegal hunters over the years.”
Smushing my face against his chest, I inhaled. Leather, hay, even a bit of salty sweat danced into my senses. “But they came after you, instead of running away.”
“Yeah, that’s crossed my mind…” he mumbled. “Crossed my mind.” His voice was low, hesitant, and distant. Despite being wrapped up tight in a hold that I craved, he felt far away. I knew I was a thousand miles away, once again feeling the thoughts tugging at the back of my mind that maybe seeing if Cassidy wanted to go on a date wasn’t such a bad idea.
Once we got back, he wouldn’t be forced to be around me. So, if he still was interested, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it? It would give me time to sort through my feelings.
Wait, why was I toying with this idea of wanting him around me?
Better question, why was I voluntarily letting him hold me, while I held him right back?
Hold on.
And I ripped out of his embrace. Heat burned against my cheeks as I was unwilling to look in his eyes. He didn’t move away as we both stood there. Was that a boundary I’d just crossed? The moment we got back to camp, I needed some time to figure all of this out. I needed space from him only because I didn’t even know what to make of my own thoughts that were weighing heavily in my mind.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, frustrated with my own feelings, and spun around, leaving him standing by the fire like a man turned statue by medusa herself.