A chill skated across her skin despite the warmth of the morning sun.
Her gaze drifted across the yard and landed on Seth. He looked over at her, his expression unreadable from that distance. Their eyes met for a heartbeat before he turned away and disappeared around the side of the house with the others.
The silence settling over the ranch felt almost unnatural after the confrontation.
Drawing a slow breath, Shylo crossed the yard to where Shane and Tucker stood near the porch. As she reached them, the front door opened, and Paige stepped outside, coming down the steps to join them.
The knot in Shylo's stomach refused to ease. “He won't give up that easily.”
“We know,” Shane said. He turned to her. “What's his drug of choice? He was definitely on something.”
“Cocaine, probably.”
The distant wail of sirens broke the silence, drawing their attention.
Paige touched Shylo's arm. “Come inside and help me. We might as well feed the cops when they get here.”
By the time lunch was over, Shylo had run out of ways to keep her hands busy.
After things had settled down again, she spent the rest of the morning beside Mya at the kitchen island, peeling potatoes and carrots, chopping onions and celery, and chatting with the older woman as they worked their way through several batches of beef stew destined for the freezer. The repetitive work had helped for a while. Every slice of the knife and scrape of the peeler had given her mind something else to focus on besides Troy.
Only for him to creep back into her thoughts the moment she'd stopped.
Now, Mya was upstairs with Ashley, putting her down for a nap, and Arianna was still at her friend's house. Shane had taken Paige into town to run a few errands, and the ranch felt oddly quiet despite the steady hum of work carrying on in the distance.
Not knowing what else to do, Shylo stepped outside, carrying a bucket of vegetable scraps that Mya had said were for the goats.
The July sun wrapped around her the moment she left the cool house, carrying with it the familiar scents of warm earth, fresh-cut hay, horses, and livestock.
Her first stop was the chicken coop. She paused outside the fence, watching the hens scratch through the dirt and peck at the ground, content to go about their day without a care in the world. She envied them that. If only quieting her own thoughts were as simple.
From there, she wandered to the goat pen with the bucket. The moment the goats spotted her, they hurried over, bleating impatiently as though convinced they'd been starving all day.
“All right, all right. You're worse than toddlers.”
Smiling at their antics, she tossed handfuls of potato peels, carrot tops, celery ends, and other trimmings around the enclosure. Within seconds, the goats spread out, each determined to claim the best pieces before the others could.
Watching them bicker over vegetables made her laugh for the first time all day.
After they finished their snack, she dropped the empty bucket on the back porch stairs and wandered around. She stayed close to the ranch buildings, unwilling to stray any farther than necessary. Troy had left hours ago, but the knot in her stomach refused to ease, a constant reminder he'd promised nothing. She wasn't about to make herself vulnerable if he came back.
As she rounded the corner of the house, Derek, one of the ranch hands, sat on the front porch, his attention fixed on the long driveway. The others had returned to work, but someone was always keeping watch. He noticed her, smiled, and gave a small wave. She waved back before retracing her steps toward the backyard.
With nowhere in particular to go, she followed the familiar sounds of the ranch until they led her to the barn.
The wide doors stood open, letting shafts of afternoon sunlight spill across the center aisle. Dust motes drifted lazily through the beams while the occasional stamp of a hoof and the soft rustle of hay echoed through the barn.
Tucker stood beside a horse tethered in the aisle, methodically working a brush over its chestnut coat. The long, even strokes seemed almost therapeutic, and for a minute she watched him, not wanting to interrupt.
When he finally noticed her, the brush paused mid-stroke. Their eyes met, and for a second, she wondered if he'd ask her to leave.
Instead, he crooked a finger toward her. “C’mere.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach as she walked into the barn. Shane may have accepted her as his sister, but Tucker hadn't. Maybe he'd decided the ranch would be better off if she left before Troy brought any more trouble to their doorstep.
She stopped a few feet away from him, and without a word, he held out the brush. When Shylo frowned, he gave it a little shake. “Take it.”
Confused, she reached for it. Tucker stepped aside and nodded toward the spot he'd vacated. “Stand there.” Once she moved beside the horse, he adjusted her grip on the brush, then guided her hand across the horse's shoulder in slow, steady strokes. “Easy. Let the bristles do the work.”
