Chapter Twelve
Cash stood in the hallway, stunned. At a loss for words.
What is her problem?
Their last heated words were still echoing sharply in his head.
You didn’t marry me. You married convenience.
Maybe I did. What difference does it make to you?
Cash scowled fiercely at the closed door. After all I did for her? For her baby? I spent two nights building that doggone crib!
He ran a hand down his face, jaw clenched tight. Truth be told, he was angrier with himself. Why had he said what he’d said? It wasn’t a lie—but it sure as heck wasn’t the whole truth, either.
She was mad. And maybe she had every right to be. But he didn’t know why that was.
He didn’t know a lot about women. Never had—probably never would. Yet the thing that twisted his gut the most was that he couldn’t quite tell if he was mad… or if it was some other thing he was feeling.
Right now, he felt pretty mad. Having a door slammed in his face had fired him right up. He thundered down the hallway into the kitchen and started pacing.
How dare she slam my door? My parents’ door?
He halted and stared out the kitchen window into the stretch of pasture just beyond the fence, the tide of anger still sweeping over him.
Then behind him, feet scuffed against the wooden floor, approaching him from behind. Luke appeared, leaning casually against the window, putting his face into Cash’s peripheral. “That little argument sure was somethin’.”
“That was none a’ your business,” Cash grunted, eliciting a chuckle from Luke.
“So. You gonna admit you’ve got feelings for her yet?”
Cash whipped around, scowling. “Don’t start.”
Luke held up his hands. “What? Just curious, that’s all.”
Cash narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be. Nothin’ interesting about it.”
“Sure,” Luke said with a smirk. “That’s why you’re standing here lookin’ like she just shot you between the ribs.”
Cash shook his head, jaw still clenched. “I married her because it needed doing. For both of us—all of us. That’s it.”
Luke raised a brow. “That’s all it is?”
“That’s it,” Cash repeated, more insistently.
Luke scoffed. “Sure. That’s why you spent the last two nights buildin’ that crib. Just ‘cause it needed doin’.”
Cash scowled. “I built the crib ‘cause the baby needed it.”
“Uh-huh. Just like how you made sure she had a room set up. And how you keep lookin’ at her like she’s a thorn in your side, but you’d fight the devil himself if he so much as looked at her wrong.”
“Luke.” Cash didn’t want to hear it. Doing something nice doesn’t mean nothin’. And it especially didn’t mean what Luke thought it meant.
“I’m just sayin’,” Luke interrupted.
The heavy sound of thundering feet racing through the house interrupted them both, and they whirled around to see Hank storm into the kitchen, heaving his body through the door like a barrel knocking over a woodpile.
The man was never in a rush for anything, not these days. But he was right now. His face was red as blood, and his lips were trembling, but not with fear. With anger. “Doggone it all,” he huffed, pulling off his hat. “We got a problem. A big problem.”
Cash stiffened. “What now?”
“Someone’s been cutting fences. Again.”
Remington.
Cash could’ve spit on the floor. He didn’t think anything could’ve riled up his temper more than it was. Apparently, he was wrong. “That son of a—!” He rushed out of the kitchen, followed closely by Hank and Luke, and pulled on his boots and hat by the front door.
As soon as they were outside, he turned to Hank and snapped, “Show me.”
It was quiet out on the ranch as evening approached. The heat of the day still hadn’t subsided, and it did nothing but burn the embers inside Cash’s belly even hotter as he and Luke marched just behind Hank through the gate of the nearest pasture.
He could smell the churned-up dirt from the restless shifting of the cattle. There, in the far left corner of the pasture, he saw the unmistakable signs. The wires had been cut clean through.
Cash’s fists curled. “That son of a—Grayson!” he seethed.
Hank nodded, hands on his hips. “Who else?” he asked, sounding more exasperated than surprised.
Heat was still rushing through Cash’s veins. “He’s testin’ my desire not to shed blood over this,” he snarled.
I’m not the man he wants to mess with.
Hank sighed. “Sheriff Carter ain’t gonna do a darn thing. You know that.”
Cash knew.
Carter listened. He always listened. But that was about it. He never really did anything about anything. He might as well have been on Remington’s payroll for all the good he’d been doing getting rid of the crook.
Cash exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself.
Remington wanted the Montgomery ranch. And he wasn’t gonna stop till he got it.
Over my dead body.
He turned back toward the house, fuming the entire way back. When he came inside, Josie was in the kitchen, bouncing Samuel gently in her arms. She looked up at him, and it seemed as though she was hesitant for a moment to look at him.
Part of him wanted nothing more than to yell at her for slamming the door in his face the night before, but the somber look on her face brought him to an uncertain halt.
He watched as she stood up and shifted on her feet, awkwardly as she adjusted Samuel in her arms. “I… I’m sorry,” she said finally, voice soft.
Cash blinked. “You’re… sorry?” He hadn’t expected that.
She sighed, tucking the baby closer to her chest. “For snapping earlier. It’s just… it’s been a long day.” Her tone was guarded, like she was unsure of how he’d respond. Possibly even afraid.
He balled his fists and swallowed. “Yeah. I understand that…” He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
Josie was still watching him. “What’s the matter?” she asked, her brows twisting. “You look distracted.”
He gritted his teeth. “I am.”
She seemed to pause for a moment before pulling out a chair with her free hand. “Want to talk about it?”
“It’s Remington,” he muttered, ignoring the chair. “He’s cuttin’ our fences now. Tryin’ to stir up even more trouble for us.”
“What does he want?” Josie asked worriedly.
“The ranch. Our ranch.”
She went quiet for a moment, bouncing Samuel absentmindedly. Then she looked up at him from beneath long lashes. “You’ll figure it out.”
The certainty in her voice caught him by surprise for a moment. Then he huffed a quiet, sarcastic laugh. “You sound real sure about that.”
She shrugged. “You seem like a man who figures things out.”
Cash paused. No one had ever said it like that before.
Then, suddenly, Samuel let out a loud, dramatic burp, so loud that it about shook the walls.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Then, before Cash knew what was happening, Josie let out a startled laugh. Not polite, not restrained—but real, full-bodied laughter. It was the kind of joyful sound he hadn’t heard in a long, long time.
And before he could stop himself, he chuckled too.
Josie wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still smiling. “Lord have mercy, boy,” she said to Samuel. “Got a set of lungs on you, don’t you?”
Cash shook his head, still grinning. “Sounds like he’s tryin’ to make himself known.”
He should’ve been fuming still. The fences had been cut, and he’d scuffled with Josie—his own wife. But he wasn’t half so mad now. He hadn’t at all expected to see her laughing like that, let alone be laughing himself.
It was… freeing. And it gave him pause. His troubles couldn’t be nearly so bad if all it took was that little baby’s burp to shake him out of himself.