I just know that every time Bo stepped back from me, I thought it was about his past. His grief. The weight he carries.
But it was a promise.
I push off the fence.
I've got a ranch to run. I'll figure out the rest later.
But I will figure it out. That much I know.
Chapter 13
Bo and Rowdy
Bo
The bombs went off again. Closer this time.
Our CO ran toward us, holding his side, his mouth moving before we could hear him. “We need to...” A whistle cut through the air. Then came the explosion. Then the ringing.
Everyone was on their feet. Everyone except him.
“Gates.” His voice came from somewhere. Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe that was just what I wanted to hear. Then another whistle, low and climbing fast. “Move, move, move!” I was already yelling, already running, and then the next volley came and...
I shoot up in bed.
My heart pounds in my chest, dread gripping me. I reach for something that isn’t there. I stare at the darkness around me, my chest rising and falling, fingers closing on empty air.
No gun.
No CO.
No smoke.
Just the four walls and the sound of my own breathing.
I stay there until the shaking fades. Outside, Falon’s barn light comes on, a thin line of yellow under the curtain. I watch it, holding onto that small comfort.
That’s why I am forty-five minutes early.
I get dressed in the dark, drive into town with the windows down, and sit in my truck outside Ethel’s for a while, watching the morning. An older couple comes out, moving slowly. The man opens the door for his wife, kisses her cheek, then walks around to his side. It looks effortless, just part of their day.
A shiver crawls up my spine.
Every sound sets my teeth on edge in a way I can’t shake. A chair scrapes the sidewalk, a delivery truck’s brakes hiss one block over, a rooster crows down the street. I square my shoulders and walk in.
Sam is already at the back booth when I walk in. He has a mug in front of him and a section of the newspaper folded in quarters. He doesn’t look up when I slide in across from him.
“You look terrible,” he says.
“Good morning to you, too.”
He turns a page. “Sleep?”
“Some.”
“Mm.” He sets the paper down and signals Lila without looking up.
She appears a moment later with a mug, sets it down without a word, and disappears again.
