CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Haden
I’m almost positive I could hear Cassie crying on her first night here.
Her window was cracked just enough when I got home from Penny’s ranch, and those small whimpers damn near ripped a hole wide open in the armor I’ve spent five months building up.
I couldn’t put the sound out of my head all through my supper—enough that, by the time I got out of a steaming shower, I decided to google the show where the trampling occurred with the hope of seeing more videos than the one Dusty showed me.
I didn’t come up with much. And I’m still none the wiser as to what she saw or where she was when that woman died.
I started out my front door twice to check on her, but both times I stopped myself, pacing the length of my porch in frustration instead.
After a few minutes I finally gave my head a shake and went back inside.
I’m sure the last person she wants to see when she’s upset is her former one-night hookup who was sort of an asshole to her the moment she came back.
No matter what I thought I felt, any spark I had for her, she’s made it clear she didn’t share that connection to me. It’s just a song.
The weekend passes slow enough that my head is a clusterfuck by the time Monday morning rolls around.
I worked all weekend at the rescue center with Penny when I wasn’t needed here.
It’s easier to push Cassie’s sad-looking eyes from my mind when I’m at Penny’s.
But even with the escape, I barely slept because, as I soon discovered, Cassie Spencer is a night owl.
And her bedroom window in Stardust is directly across from mine.
So I can see when her light goes on and sometimes I can see the silhouette of her through the curtains when she’s in her room.
When that happens, I have to force myself to look away, but it doesn’t stop me from imagining her in all the ways I’ve tried not to. Christ, it’s gonna be a long-ass month.
I’m at the barn by six a.m. on Monday, pacing as I wait for Cassie.
I’m as restless as one of our new colts and scold myself for not letting Dusty take her riding instead of me.
I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut. But the moment he smiled at her with that dopey grin, my previous decision to stay away from her went out of my head and I pounced.
By 7:15, I’m going out of my mind. By 7:45, it’s obvious Cassie just isn’t coming, so I leave in a huff to go about my day.
And what a day it is. One of Penny’s rescue horses—the most recent one she’s brought in, Marlow—needs hydration fluids.
Poor thing is barely eating anything and is getting weaker by the day.
We don’t know enough about her backstory to know why yet.
She won’t go near Penny’s other horses, and she doesn’t trust me or Penny at all.
To add to my stress, our feed supply order here on the ranch came a shitload short of barley due to snowstorms in the north, so I had to send Dusty to the local feed store which will mean paying double.
And to top it all off, my dad has been texting me all day asking me when I’m coming to finish off the roof seal with him.
By the third text I finally give in and answer.
DAD
Can you also pick up another can of seal? I’m a little short right now.
We’ve talked about this before. You have to start saving a little so you can handle these things. I have my own things I’m saving for and the house is getting older, which means it’ll need more work in other places soon.
Normally I wouldn’t bring up his lack of responsibility or get into it with him like this, but today I just don’t give a fuck.
DAD
Unwinding at the track is how I relax. You’re young and strong aside from your bum knee. I need your help from time to time with this house. I can’t afford to sell it or retire.
Jesus Christ. It’s been seven years and I’ve never heard the end of it. His underlying message? He can’t retire because I got hurt.
“Someone shit in your cereal?” Wade asks as I slide my phone back into my pocket. We’re about to start sorting feed with the boys.
“Just seems like one of those days where everything is going wrong.”
“How was the morning? How’d Cassie do?”
I chuckle lightly. “She never showed.”
Wade’s brow furrows as he thinks for a beat. “I was worried about that. Ivy was with her over the weekend. Said she’s been having a rough time.”
“Hmmm,” I retort noncommittally.
“Can we shoot straight for a minute?” Wade asks, pausing his work.
I glance up at him as I hoist a bag of oats over my shoulder to add to the sorting bins that line the wall. “Sure.”
“I get the vibe something else is going on between you two. I’ve never seen you so pissy with someone you just met. What gives?”
I shrug, not wanting to admit I’m the illustrious truck owner from her song who didn’t choose to leave her like she wrote.
“She’s a lot different from Ivy.” I sidestep his question.
“The way she thought she could handle Outlaw back in the fall … she could’ve been really hurt and caused the ranch a big issue.
I don’t take that lightly. And I don’t like having my time wasted.
I realize she’s going through something and I’m sympathetic to that, but a simple ‘hey I’m not coming to ride’ would’ve been nice.
You all have my number if she’s looking for it.
Been behind all morning on account of waiting that hour for her.
No offence, Sarge, but she just seems entitled sometimes.
Like we’re all here waiting for her ‘go’ command. ”
Wade starts to chuckle as he adds a scoop of soaked sugar beet to each bucket of feed.
“She’s got the baby-of-the-family complex for sure. Ivy always looked after her when Glenda was unable to. But …” He stands and wipes his brow with his flannel-covered arm. “These last couple weeks have been hard on her. Ivy’s worried.”
I think back to the sound of her crying and my damn chest tightens with the thought of her struggling. Wade presses on.
“Cassie’s story isn’t mine to tell. But go easy on her. We’re all hoping some time here will help her.” He grabs a gallon-sized jug of liquid supplements off the shelf. “Gotta say, I’m a little relieved that’s all it is.”
I stop what I’m doing and look at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought maybe something else was going on. Like maybe you two were a little more familiar with each other than you should be.”
I make a scoffing sound even I wouldn’t believe if I heard it.
“She’s a pretty girl with a feisty attitude,” Wade says. “Which always seems to be your type. But she’s off-limits. Got it?”
“’Course,” I mutter, not meeting his gaze.
“I want Silver Pines to be her safe space. So no funny business. It doesn’t take much for annoyance to turn to something more. Trust me.”
“Trust me,” I retort, beginning to stir the mix Wade’s making. “It won’t happen.”
Wade nods. “Good man.”
Nothing more is said as we finish our work. When I head home for lunch the princess emerges on her front porch in her pajamas with a pair of sunglasses on her face and a mug of steaming coffee at twelve-thirty in the afternoon.
I just shake my head and close my cabin door behind me.
I push her from my mind and consider Wade’s words for the rest of the day.
No matter the frustrating pull I still feel to her, this job is my lifeline and these people have been like family to me since I was nineteen.
Whatever happened between me and Cassie is in the past, and the best thing I can do now is be civil and keep her at arm’s length.
Which sounds easy enough, but when she doesn’t show the next morning? I can’t fucking help myself. I get through the morning chores and, just before lunch, take matters into my own hands and ride over to her place. I rehearse exactly what I’m about to say to her on the way over.
I realize you’re having a hard time. But common courtesy is a thing on this ranch.
If you don’t want to ride, if you need some time, speak up and let me know. Then I can quit getting your horse ready every damn day, Princess.
I stay prepared as I dismount and march right up her front steps, knocking heavily on her door when I reach it.
It takes a few minutes, but when she answers, bottle of bourbon in hand at eleven a.m., her blonde hair piled high on her head and tears staining her face, my mind goes blank.
I see and feel the pain she’s harboring and the only thing I can think is: Whose ass am I kicking?