3. Sage #2
The question makes my cheeks heat, even though he obviously doesn’t mean anything by it.
I gather my still-damp skirt and pull it up to reveal the grazes on my knees. When he lightly touches the side of my leg, I do my best to ignore the warmth of his skin against mine. It’s a ridiculous reaction to have toward a man I’ve only just met, who’s already decided he doesn’t like me.
“Not too bad,” he says.
“I told you.” My voice comes out breathier than I intended.
He meets my gaze. “Still gonna sting.”
“I know.”
When he presses the wipe against my scraped skin, I can’t help but twitch as I inhale sharply.
“Hold still.” It comes out like an order, but his hands are steady. Careful.
At least I manage to stay still while he cleans the dirt away with surprising gentleness. It feels strangely intimate after the way he’s been scowling at me all night.
Once he’s finished with the wipe, he dips his head and blows lightly on my skin. This time, goose bumps skitter over my body.
He stills, his gaze flashing up to mine for an instant before he keeps going. With quick movements, he finishes up by smoothing a little antibacterial cream over my knees and applying bandages. Then he crumples the wrappers in his hand and clears his throat. “That should do it.”
“Thank you.”
With a nod, he pushes to his feet, collects the first-aid kit, and disappears back into the bedroom.
By the time I’ve gotten to my feet, he’s returned and is heading toward the front door.
I trail after him. I should be looking forward to getting some space, but instead I’m almost reluctant to see him go.
“Thank you again for, you know, rescuing me. And, uh…” I extend one leg and smile a little self-consciously.
He nods again in that terse, unreadable way. “I’ll be here at six tomorrow morning to take you in.”
My weary body protests the idea. “Six?”
“Early starts are mandatory on a ranch. Don’t you know that? And six is a sleep-in most days.”
Even on Sundays? I keep the thought to myself. I doubt weekends mean much out here. And I’ve been up early plenty of times to catch the perfect light for a photo.
I take a deep breath, then force a smile. “Yes, of course. I’ll see you at six.”
For a moment, he studies me, and the hard line of his jaw relaxes slightly. Then he nods to me, blue eyes holding mine. “Good night, Sage.”
“Good night, Holden.”
Then he’s gone, the door closing behind him.
His departure seems to suck some of the air from the room. I turn and sag against the wall, pressing my hands to my face. Coming here was supposed to help me feel strong and in control of my life again. Right now, I feel the opposite.
But if I wanted to wallow in self-pity, I could have stayed at home.
With a deep breath, I force myself to straighten again. This is me moving forward. And I intend to do a spectacular job on this ranch, even if Holden thinks I’m some clueless city girl.
Or maybe I am, but I’m a fast learner too.
Keeping that firmly in mind, I plug my phone in to charge before heading to the bedroom to change out of my damp clothes and unpack.
The smaller room is just as rustic and cute as the rest of the cabin, with a double bed placed next to a wide window, a large wooden wardrobe, a set of drawers, and a small wood-burning stove tucked into the corner. Another door on the left leads to the bathroom.
I unpack quickly, then slip into soft pajama pants and an old college T-shirt before returning to the living room. Within minutes, exhaustion catches up with me, and I flop backward onto the couch.
Only now, since I’ve stopped moving, do I notice how quiet it is here. No cars, no honking, no shouting or distant sirens. Just the rustle of the trees, the chirping of frogs and crickets, and the soft patter of rain on the cabin’s tin roof.
Being completely alone like this—physically, at least—is new to me.
I’ve always been surrounded by the bustle of humanity in New York.
The change should be more unsettling. Instead, the quiet and solitude ease something in my chest. Maybe this is what Holden was talking about when I asked him about living out here.
Remembering our conversation—or lack thereof—has irritation simmering in my stomach again. I could have used a friendly face after days on the road. Instead, I got Grumpy McCowboy.
Though I can’t deny how gentle he was when he tended to my knees.
The memory of his hands on my skin brings his image to mind. With his blue eyes, darkly stubbled jaw, and the way his scowl tugs at his masculine lips, he’s the epitome of a brooding cowboy.
Not that I find that kind of thing attractive, of course.
I sit up straight and tug my pajama pants above my knees so I can inspect them. He placed the bandages neatly, and the sting has already eased. I’m lucky I didn’t do more damage. Imagine if I’d sprained an ankle and had to hobble around the ranch.
Thank goodness I didn’t give him the satisfaction.
God, why am I still thinking about Holden?
I push myself upright and wander over to investigate the kitchenette. A door on the other side that I assumed was a pantry turns out to be a little laundry room. Perfect. It hadn’t even occurred to me how I’d wash my clothes all the way out here.
As I turn, light filtering through the trees outside the window above the sink catches my eye.
Another cabin sits tucked among the pines a short distance away, and the truck parked outside confirms it’s Holden’s.
A shadow passes behind his window, and my pulse leaps.
I should back away so he doesn’t catch me staring, but curiosity makes me linger, hoping for another glimpse of him.
I’m just edging closer to the glass when a sudden loud ring sends my heart into my throat. I spin away from the window and snatch my now-charged phone from the sideboard. Mia’s name on the screen makes me smile.
After detaching it from its charger, I throw myself onto the couch again and swipe to answer.
“Are you there? Are you alive?” Mia asks, her tone breathless.
A laugh escapes me. “Barely. But yes, I survived the wilderness.”
“When I told Ruby, she was sure you were going to be rescued by a cowboy on a white horse.”
I let my head fall back. “Close. Grumpy cowboy, muddy truck, and a glare that would have cracked my lens if I’d tried to shoot it.”
This time Mia’s the one who laughs. “Who was that?”
“Holden, apparently. Have you met him?”
“A couple of times when I’ve tagged along on a call-out with Doc. He didn’t seem overly grumpy. More reserved than anything else.”
“I guess I caught him on a bad day, then. Now I have to live next to him out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Really?” Her voice brims with curiosity.
Sighing, I sling my feet up onto the cushion and stretch out. “It’s the only cabin they had available on short notice. Which means he has to drive me around until my car’s fixed.”
“I’m sure it won’t take you long to win him over. Who could resist you?”
She’s way too confident for my liking. Or maybe I’m just too tired and strung out to feel the same. Rather than keep talking about Holden, I murmur my agreement. My eyelids are drooping anyway. “I’d better get to bed. He’s picking me up at six, and I’m desperate for sleep.”
“Of course. I’m glad you’re here. Ruby and I can’t wait to see you.”
Just hearing that makes coming here worth it.
After planning to catch up on Monday evening, we say goodbye. As I hit disconnect, I spot a text notification that must have come in while I was unpacking.
Graham.
I roll my eyes, then quickly check the message. Not because I want to hear from him, but because if one of the last few pieces of mine still hanging in his gallery has sold, I’d like to know.
Ending our relationship was a lot easier than untangling our lives. Professionally, I’m still tied to his gallery. Even my email account is hosted there. It made sense when we were together. Now it’s one more thing I need to deal with when I get back to New York.
Sadly, he’s not contacting me about a sale. He just wants to know where I am and when I’ll be back in town so we can “discuss matters.” Without reading any farther, I delete it like all the others.
I’m sure the matters he wants to discuss are the same ones he brought up when I told him we were over. That I’m na?ve. That I won’t get far without him opening the right doors.
I refuse to let that be true.
Shoving Graham firmly out of my mind, I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. After sliding under the covers, I set my alarm to make sure I’m up and ready before Holden arrives. I’m determined not to give him another reason to scowl at me.
Despite how exhausted I am, the darkness and unfamiliar sounds outside make it hard to fall asleep. I closed the curtains before I got into bed, but now I climb back out and pull them aside.
A light still glows through the trees.
Holden.
I snuggle back under the covers, and this time, with the knowledge that Grumpy McCowboy is only a short distance away, sleep comes for me quickly.