Chapter Sixteen
Cash was rattled.
He knew it. His brothers knew it. Even Hank, who usually minded his own business, had given him one of those knowing looks over breakfast. And it was all because of Josie Tate—No, Josie Montgomery.
He drove his shovel into the dirt furiously.
“You’re throwing yourself into work to avoid it!” Beau shouted. They’d been on him for almost an hour now, even as they worked outside to repair the fence.
“A little hard work never hurt anyone,” he grumbled. “You should try it sometime.”
Dig, toss, repeat.
It was honest work, the kind that usually helped him clear his mind. But today, it wasn’t working. Probably because of my no-good, annoying brothers.
No matter how long he dug, no matter how hard he dug, no matter how much he sweat or how hot it was outside, all he could see was the way Josie had looked at him last night.
Her face had been so scared, so innocent.
Like a doe caught in a trap. He was glad he had gotten to her before the coyotes had.
She was bleeding pretty bad. It would have surely drawn them out to her.
The way she’d leaned into him had made his chest tighten as he carried her.
Some part of him was afraid to set her down.
He’d guessed what she was doing as soon as he found her out there. She was leaving. What else would she have been doing out there in the middle of the night? He had to fight the urge to just set her down on her bed, knowing that she was already as good as gone.
He gritted his teeth. Darn it.
“You look like you got hit over the head,” Luke called from behind him. “Do you want me to take over? It’s hot. Don’t stroke out on us.”
Cash didn’t turn around. Instead, he muttered, “Don’t you have work to do yourself?”
“Oh, I do.” Luke leaned against the fence, a cocky grin in place. “Just figured I’d take a moment to check in on our new happily married brother.”
Cash ignored him. They knew something was up. It was why they were being a thorn in his side.
I’m gonna hit someone upside the head with this here shovel.
“You do look different,” Beau added, walking up beside Luke. “Like someone got under your skin. More than usual!”
Cash threw down the shovel in frustration. “That’s enough.”
Luke held up his hands in mock surrender, but he continued to laugh. “I ain’t judgin’. Just never seen you this wound up over a woman before.”
“Not wound up.” Cash pulled his gloves and stalked toward the barn. “Just got a ranch to run. Maybe you should focus on that, instead of gossiping like a couple of old ladies.”
He was blazing hot and fuming mad, but apparently that didn’t scare his brothers a bit.
Luke let out a low whistle behind him. “Definitely wound up!”
Cash growled, balling his fists. They might have been right, but why did they have to be so insufferable about it?
***
By the time the midday heat settled over the ranch, Cash had finally managed to get his temper back under control. Mostly. He was covered in sweat, his clothes clinging to him wetly, and he was thirsty. So thirsty.
It was true that he’d wished he had a woman around the ranch to help out with chores around the house, carry out fresh water every so often so they wouldn’t have to break from work.
He’d thought Josie could be that. And she had been—at least, he thought she had been.
She’d been cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, and even helping out with some of the chores in the barn where she could keep Samuel out of the heat.
But it was clear from her attempt at leaving in the middle of the night that whether she could be that or not, she didn’t want to be.
Sighing, Cash grabbed the old metal bucket, its handle scalding to the touch, and made his way to the well. The heat hung thick in the air, clinging to practically everything. The physical labor was tiresome enough without all the heat.
His boots crunched against the dry ground as he reached the well, and with a grunt, he lowered the bucket down. The creaking of the rope and the splashing of water below made him even thirstier. With another grunt and a giant tug, he pulled it back up.
After a quick drink from the bucket directly, he poured the rest over his face, letting the water soak into his sweaty shirt and slicked-back hair.
He shook off the droplets as he walked back to the house and went inside, leaving the bucket by the door for later.
It was so hot out that he’d surely use it all up before suppertime.
He walked down the hall, relishing the cool air inside, and headed right to the basin in his room at the back of the house. He wiped away the dirt and the sweat with a rag. A small bit of washing up, savoring the refreshing sting of the cool water against his sunburnt skin.
He started to breathe a little easier. As if the water made him feel human again. He let out a deep sigh, staring at his reflection in the looking glass. The hours had been long. Too long.
He walked back into the hall, and his eyes flicked to the kitchen door.
She was probably as hungry as he was thirsty.
I have to do something. Josie wasn’t going to keep doing everything on her own, and it seemed she didn’t want to.
So he decided—he’d make her something to eat.
Maybe it was his way of showing that he was sorry for her, or maybe it was just the long day in the sun wearing down his caution more than usual, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.
***
He carried a tray down the hall, doing his best to balance a plate of warm cornbread on top of a bowl of stew. Gently, he tapped on her door.
There was a pause before she answered. “Come in.”
The creak from the hinges on the door wailed. I need to fix that.
He glanced briefly at the door, but his eyes were irresistibly drawn to Josie.
She was sitting up in bed, her leg propped up on top of the covers, with Samuel next to her playing with a couple of balls of yarn. As Cash stepped inside, the baby looked up, grinning widely.
“Hey, little man,” Cash said softly to Samuel, whose smile got even wider the closer he got. A small laugh escaped the baby’s lips.
Cash sighed before clearing his throat. “Brought you some food,” he said, coming to stand beside the bed. He noticed that the gauze around her leg had turned slightly pink from the fresh wound beneath. “And I’ll need to change that soon…” he said, gesturing to her leg.
She nodded, but didn’t respond.
“You’ll be better before you know it,” he added, ignoring the fact she was trying to leave the ranch in the first place. And ignoring his frustration about how the chores had fallen behind, which meant he now had to deal with them alone.
Josie hesitated before reaching for the tray. “Thank you.”
He nodded, politely, still not sure what to say. Still not sure what had gotten into her.
She looked embarrassed as her fingers twisted in the blanket. It was as though she was just as lost for words as he was.
“You don’t have to thank me,” Cash said. “I’m supposed to be your husband. That’s what a husband does, right?”
Her lips pressed together. “I shouldn’t have been out there.”
“No,” he grumbled in agreement. “But I get why you were.”
Her gaze lifted, and her emerald eyes widened. “What?”
Cash exhaled, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. Her eyes were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t help staring at her.
He wasn’t good at this. Talking. But something about her made him want to try. “I know what it’s like,” he admitted. “Wantin’ to run.”
She stilled. “You… do?”
He nodded. “Used to be a time I figured I’d never settle down. Thought if I just kept on with the ranch, never got out, never tried to meet anybody, I’d never have to deal with… things.”
“Things?”
Cash’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t talked about Jane in years. He wasn’t sure he could. He wasn’t sure he had the strength.
But there was something about Josie, looking at him with those soft, understanding eyes, waiting for an answer—waiting to hear that he understood her even just a little—that made him want to try.
“I had a fiancée—a long time ago—and she left me,” he admitted, his chest tightening as acid rose up in his throat.
Josie blinked, her mouth opening and closing. It was as if she knew even less what to say than he did. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting that.
“I was gonna marry a woman by the name of Jane Goodson,” he continued, voice rough and gravelly. “Thought I had it all figured out. But she didn’t want… this.” He gestured around the room, at the ranch—this life. “She didn’t want the life I was building.”
Josie was silent for a long moment.
He felt self-conscious all of a sudden. Weak. He hated being vulnerable in front of anybody, let alone a woman.
This was a mistake. He was just about to push himself away from the bed and leave, when—
“That must have been painful.”
Cash let out a hollow chuckle. “Wasn’t pleasant,” he murmured. Oddly enough, part of him was relieved that she had replied.
She wasn’t wrong. It had been hellish. He hadn’t just lost a woman—he’d lost the future he thought he’d have. The one he had promised Pa he would have before Pa had passed. But as soon as he’d lost it, he knew. He knew it was a future that had never really been real in the first place.
Josie shifted in bed, sitting her stew on the small dresser beside her. She winced as she moved her leg. Cash wanted to reach out, help her in some way. For some reason, every time she seemed to be in pain, a part of him wanted nothing more than to fix it.
Suddenly, a ball of yarn hit him in the chest, pulling his attention to the baby next to her. He chuckled. “Did you just hit me, little man?”
“You know,” Josie said quietly, as though she hadn’t noticed Samuel’s antics, “I don’t think most people understand how much it takes to build something.” She looked down at the baby, smoothing a hand over his tiny back. “How much you have to fight for the things you’re building….”
Cash watched her carefully. Something told him that she wasn’t talking about him and Jane anymore. She was talking about herself.
And for the first time since she’d arrived, he realized just how much she must have had to fight.
“Why did you want to leave?” he asked, despite himself. “Why not stay? Why not fight to build something here…?” Then he clamped his mouth shut and looked away.
Josie let out a heavy sigh. “I—”
The silence was shattered by deafening gunshots. Josie’s body went stiff, and her face turned white with fear. Samuel began crying, and she pulled him close, terror crawling across her expression.
“Get down!” Cash said, instincts taking over. He tugged Josie flat and slid her off the bed to the floor in one smooth motion. She gasped, clutching at his shirt in pain and fright as he laid her down on the floor.
Not a moment too soon. There was a deafening crack and a crash—the glass window on the far wall was shattered completely, shards flying across the floor.
“Hang on to him, and stay here!” Cash ordered, already moving to the door.
“Be careful,” she called after him.
Something sharp and unexpected twisted in his chest at the fear in her voice. “I will,” he promised. Then he left.
By the time he reached the front porch, Luke and Beau were already outside, rifles in hand. “Hank’s out by the barn!” Luke yelled out, scanning the hills. “The shots are coming from the east.”
Cash nodded, his gut tightening. He already knew. “Remington. I guarantee it!” he growled.
But why? Why now? The attacks before weren’t like this. The scum had never hit the house before.
Beau exhaled sharply. “You think he’s trying to send a message?”
“I bet he is,” Cash snarled. “Broke a window. Right in Josie and Samuel’s room. I think he’s gettin’ tired of waiting.”
Another three shots rang out, peppering the ground about ten feet from their feet. Cash tightened his grip on his revolver.
Whatever game Remington was playing, it was about to reach the final move.