Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Silas
I run into Delaney hard, as if she’s been fired out of a cannon.
One second, I’m juggling a bag of groceries and mentally arguing with myself about whether Boone really needs another lecture about bulk buying oats, and the next…
Impact.
Hard enough to knock the air out of both of us.
I stagger back, instinctively grabbing her arms so she doesn’t go down on the pavement. My bag hits the ground. Something glass clinks ominously.
“Fuck…”
Then she looks up.
And everything in me goes cold.
Delaney’s eyes are red, like she’s been crying hard and long and didn’t stop because she ran out of tears. She stopped because her body forced her to keep moving.
Her breathing is shallow and jerky. She’s fighting her lungs for control. Her face is blotchy, lashes clumped, mouth trembling, doing everything it can to not collapse completely.
She looks… wrecked.
“Oh,” she whispers when she recognizes me.
Just that.
One broken syllable.
She pulls back fast. Her hands fly to her face, swiping at tears as if she’s angry at them for existing.
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. Too quickly. “I wasn’t looking. I didn’t mean to—”
“Hey.” I step in front of her before she can bolt. “Sunshine. Stop.”
She doesn’t stop.
She tries to sidestep me, eyes fixed on the ground. Maybe she’s thinking if she doesn’t make eye contact, I’ll disappear.
Nope.
I shift with her, blocking gently, keeping my body between her and the open street without touching her again. Giving her space, but not letting her vanish.
“Delaney,” I say. “Look at me.”
She doesn’t want to. I can see that plain as day. If she looks at me, whatever’s holding her together is going to snap.
Her breath catches anyway.
Then the tears come, sudden and relentless, spilling down her cheeks. Her body finally gave up pretending this wasn’t happening. She makes this small, strangled sound and clamps her mouth shut, shoulders curling inward, trying to fold herself out of existence.
Fuck.
That hits me right in the chest.
I step closer, turning us so her back’s against the storefront instead of facing the street. Shielding her without making it obvious. I put a hand on her arm.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I murmur. “You ran into me, not traffic. We’re good.”
People walk past.
I do not care.
I lower my voice further, just for her. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Her fingers curl into my jacket. Whatever happened before she hit me wasn’t small.
I glance down the street once, scanning for anything that might be following her.
Nothing obvious.
Good.
“Come on,” I say gently. “Let’s go home.”
She nods without lifting her head.
The drive back is quiet.
Delaney stares out the window, knees drawn up, hands twisted together in her lap, holding the fragile part of herself.
Whatever happened, she’s not ready to say.
And I don’t push.
When we pull into the ranch, she barely waits for me to park before she’s opening the door.
“Hey,” I say softly. “You wanna—”
“I just need to lie down.”
My chest tightens.
“Yeah,” I say immediately. “Of course. Go.”
She doesn’t look at me as she heads inside. Moves fast, the sound of her footsteps disappearing down the hall. Her bedroom door closes quietly.
I stand there in the kitchen for longer than necessary, staring at nothing.
Then I blow out a breath and go find Caleb.
He’s in the barn, methodically brushing down one of the geldings, movements calm in that way of his that always makes the rest of us appear to be caffeinated raccoons.
“She’s not okay,” I say without preamble.
He stills instantly. “Delaney?”
“Yeah.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Ran straight into me in town. Crying. Like… bad crying.”
Caleb’s jaw tightens. “Did she say what happened?”
“No.” I shake my head. “And I didn’t ask. But something rattled her hard.”
He nods slowly, absorbing that. “That’s rough. Especially with everything else...”
I frown. “What else?”
He hesitates, then sighs. “Boone’s not okay either.”
That stops me.
“Define ‘not okay,’” I say.
Caleb sets the brush down. “Sadie’s been having a rough time at school. Boone’s been dealing with it quietly, but he’s on edge lately. The principal didn’t help much. He feels like he’s failing her.”
I swear under my breath.
“So Delaney’s spiraling,” I mutter. “Boone’s white-knuckling fatherhood. And Sadie’s caught in the middle.”
Caleb gives me a look. “Welcome to the emotional weather report.”
I lean against the stall door, frustration buzzing under my skin. “I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like people I care about getting hurt,” I say, sharper than I mean to. “And I really don’t like not knowing how to fix it.”
Caleb studies me. “You can’t fix it all.”
“No,” I agree grimly. “But we can do something.”
He waits.
“We should do something nice for Delaney,” I say. “Something that says she’s not alone.”
Caleb nods. “That’s a good idea.”
“And we need to keep an eye on Boone,” I add. “Before he buries himself under responsibility and forgets he’s allowed to need help.”
A faint smile flickers at the corner of Caleb’s mouth. “You’re not wrong.”
I straighten, resolve settling in my chest.
Okay.
I don’t know what broke Delaney today.
I don’t know how Boone’s holding it together.
I don’t know how Sadie’s doing when no one’s watching.
But I know this. I’m not letting the people I care about bleed quietly while pretending everything’s fine.
Not on my watch.