Chapter 11 Willow
“I just said goodbye to Ellie. Ginger is making her supper now, figured it’s as good a time as any to get going,” I say, hoping he doesn’t catch the wavering in my voice because the last thing I want to do right now—is go.
The bag felt heavier when I dragged it out here moments ago. I’ve been in Blue River Springs less than a week, but it’s the time I spent in this house, with this man and that little girl, that has my feet feeling fused not just to the pavement—but to the land itself.
That part doesn’t scare me—driving away from the wide skies, clean air, and a home surrounded by nature’s beauty.
The part that does . . . is admitting that if you take away those two breathing souls from the equation, I’d be halfway to New York by now with nothing left to lose.
Admitting that in the last two days, I’ve felt braver, steadier, and more alive than I have in years.
I attacked a strange man in the dark of a home I thought was temporarily abandoned.
Then stuck around and called him out on being a stubborn jackass.
I helped transform this gem of a building into a home where he can raise a daughter he’s been given a second chance with.
I’m not saying I belong here. But I’m supposed to just get on a plane and pretend I’ve got something better to go back to?
Connor gives Dallas a pointed look before coming up the stairs. “Thanks,” he murmurs.
I wink back—hoping I didn’t misread his cue earlier.
When Connor walked into the house after Cole arrived, I knew something was wrong. The man was simmering beneath the surface—and a little pale. Ginger noticed too and asked who was outside.
That’s when Connor asked if I could step outside for a moment. Maybe invite Ellie’s grandfather in for some warm tarts. His eyes landing on my ring finger again. The way they had when I grabbed my suitcase.
Connor may be an intimidating man, and I’ve known him less than an hour, but I trust him.
The man was counting on my help for something, and I didn’t think twice before giving a single nod and stepping out onto the front porch, where the glow of the setting sun caught my eye and a cool breeze brushed my skin.
But nothing felt colder than the exchange between the two men a few feet from the house.
The rush I felt jumping to Dallas’s defense hit me hard.
It’s why I specifically touched his arm, letting my left hand linger in some poor effort of showing a united front.
The kiss wasn’t planned.
It was instinct. A pull.
An emotionally charged slam against my chest, letting the man standing opposite us know that if he’s here for Ellie—
He’ll have to go through both of us.
Which is laughable since Dallas and I haven’t been “united” about anything since the minute I arrived. Except when it comes to Ellie.
But when he put his hand on me, securing me against his side—everything in me tightened.
Alarm bells going off at my body’s reaction to him.
I swore I had more control. I swore the romance door had been nailed shut since the last man who stomped all over my heart, but clearly the butterflies in my stomach think they’ve found an exception.
Whatever it was, I came back down to earth with lightning speed when I stepped inside—and saw my suitcase.
Connor drags his gaze from the New York bag tag dangling off the handle back to me. “It was nice meeting you, Willow. Appreciate the pest control.” He glances at Dallas. “Even if it was temporary.”
Harsh. I’m not sure I’d refer to a grieving man as a pest—as unwelcome as his visit might have been—but Connor is right. Because that man is coming back.
Dallas draws close to the porch steps, watching his father until he disappears inside the house.
I open my mouth—about to ask how I can help. Because I want to.
But the stubborn man cuts me off, jogging up the steps. I nearly jolt back from the proximity. That woodsy scent hitting me fast. A tease of what I’d be leaving behind.
If he lets me leave.
“That everything?” he rasps.
I blink. Then look down at my suitcase. “Yep.”
He avoids my eyes, lifting my case and carrying it to his trunk, popping it open and tossing it in.
He pauses with a heavy breath, dropping his head and resting his palms on the edge of the trunk bed. Like he doesn’t know what to do next.
My heart aches for him.
For Ellie too.
I worry that little girl’s got a battle ahead. But I’m happy for her at the same time. Because she’s got two men fighting to be the one to care for her. When I couldn’t even get one to call me on my birthday.
I edge closer from behind.
“Get in,” he barks, masking the tiny fact that he’s falling apart right now.
“Well, all right.” I nudge him aside with my hip and hop into the trunk of the SUV. Tapping my suitcase like I’m ready to hit the road.
He scowls. “I didn’t mean back here.”
“You don’t want to talk about what just happened?”
“Not with you.”
“Well, you won’t talk to your dad. My guess is you’re going to keep that scowl on till sunrise and avoid talkin’ to anyone, hoping your little problem goes away.”
“That’s a good guess.” He reaches up to lower the trunk door. “Last chance,” he warns.
I cross my arms. “Not going anywhere until you talk to me.”
“Oh, you’re going somewhere.” He lifts my legs and pushes them over to the side before lowering the door shut. Through the window I watch him stalk around to the driver’s seat.
He buckles his seatbelt. “Best hold on to something.”
I sit up on my knees, hands clutching the backseat headrest. “OK, fine. Don’t talk to me. But ignoring this is not going to make it go away.”
“I’m not ignoring anything. I’m just giving a grieving man time. He’ll come around.” He grips the steering wheel with one hand and starts the engine with the other.
I raise my voice over the humming. “Out of curiosity, what made you come around?”
He pauses, eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror, like he fell for some trap.
Because I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
Ellie.
I hold his cold eyes. Softening mine enough for the both of us. “There has to be something you can do.”
“There is.” He pulls hard on the gear shift, throwing it into drive. “Getting you out of here.”
Gravel kicks up from the tires and I jolt back with a yelp, sliding across the space, my arms flailing like they’re trying to hold on to my dignity.
I manage to catch my breath when the road straightens but then he rounds the bend again—and sharply.
I roll like a duffle bag. “How many more curves are there on this damn ranch?” I howl.
He chuckles. “’Bout fifty.”
I growl and use my suitcase for leverage as I grab hold of a coat hook and climb over to the backseat. From here, I whack him on the back of his head. He barely moves from the impact.
I grip his right shoulder, which he locks in place for me, as I climb into the front passenger seat.
He slows down until my butt hits the seat, but then swerves the second my seatbelt clicks.
“What’s your problem? I just asked if you wanted to talk about it,” I shout.
“Let’s get something straight,” he shouts right back. “You’re the talker. Not me. I got nothing to say.”
“Dallas,” I breathe. “Someone might be legitimately threatening to take your girl away. You can’t ignore that.”
“I told you, I’m not.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Taking it as a goddamn sign,” he mutters.
I blink. “A sign?”
His jaw tightens. “A sign. Message. ’Ever the hell you want to call it.
” He stares at the road as it grows dark.
“Think it was coincidence that he shows up the same night Ellie moves in with me? The first night that kicks off fatherhood in every way, shape and form. Just the two of us.” He waves an arm out.
“Expectations. Things I should know, do, say.” He gulps.
“It’s like someone tellin’ me I’m not ready. ”
I stare at him wide-eyed. “I don’t know what’s more shocking. That you believe in fate or that you’re considering this a way out.”
He keeps his eyes on the road. “What the hell can I do for her that Cole’s sister—who raised a tribe of women—can’t?”
I shake my head like it’s obvious. “She’d be with her father.”
There’s pure silence now and I turn to face the window.
“Kinda country do we live in that I got to have a wife to prove I can take care of a child?” he mutters.
If we’re talking about signs . . . That’s a damn good one that he doesn’t want to give her up.
I turn in my seat. Since it’s clear he’s not going to ask what we both know Connor was suggesting. “Dallas. Let me help you. We’ve already planted the seed. Let’s follow through and get you your kid.”
His jaw tightens harder as he watches the road. “What time’s your flight anyway?”
I avoid telling him I don’t have one. That I was going to just grab the first one out as soon as I got there.
“I’ve got nothing but time, Dallas.”
He pulls over in the middle of the highway. In the middle of nowhere. With nothing but dirt, trees, a dark sky, and stars around us.
He turns off the engine and faces me. “What time’s your flight?”
“I don’t have one.”
He swallows, eyes dropping to my lips. Then pulls out his phone. I wait as he goes through a few steps on an app.
I sigh and settle into my seat.
“Window or aisle?” he grumbles.
I grin. “First class.”
His lip perks. “Row thirty it is.”
I shift to face him. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Because you’re not staying here. I’m getting you on that plane so you can go sing, karate kick, and be a thorn in someone else’s side.”
I give a weak smile but my eyes are stinging. Not because he’s asking me to leave.
But because everyone does.
Dallas’s phone rings. The caller name pops up on the dashboard screen and he curses.
Noah Reeves.
“Who is that?” I ask.
He sighs. “Family friend—and lawyer.” He pushes a button with a bit too much force. “Noah, I’ll call you back.”
“You’re lucky I’m calling you off my normal hours.”
“What’s the emergency?” Dallas asks, practically with a yawn.
“Connor called me.”
Another curse under his breath.