Page 71 of Wild Rivals

A pinkish hue fills her cheeks, and she shifts the flowers in what looks like an attempt to hide her face from me. “Nobody. It was nothing.”

“Mona,” I warn, setting my hands on my hips and hopefully reminding her that I am still her boss.

She’s never been this evasive before. We have a good working relationship, one where she can be open and honest with me about anything. She shuffles from one foot to the other as I wait for her to answer. I’m not going anywhere until she does.

“Fine.” She sets the vase down on the desk between us with an exaggerated sigh. “It was Wyatt, he just wanted to make sure you’d made it in. He’s been checking in with either me or Deacon every day these past few weeks. He sent the flowers. He said he wanted you to have something nice to look at today.”

Oh.

Emotion clogs my throat as moisture pools in my eyes, and I look away from her and at the flowers. He did that? For me?

Why?

The question bounces around in my head, unanswered. At least until reminders of everything he’s done for me these past two months plays on a loop in my mind.

He was at the hospital and stayed when I asked him to, even though my brothers were there and staring daggers at him the whole time. He’s made sure I’ve had food and checked in despite my non-replies. He held me together when I was at my lowest.

He cares. And all I’ve done is push him away. I haven’t misread him. I’ve refused to see what’s been right in front of me all along. The thought hits me like a semi-truck, flooring me.

Reaching out for the vase, I take it from Mona’s desk and set it on my hip. “I’ll keep these,” I murmur, trying to align the Wyatt I used to know with the version he’s been silently showing me. I lift my chin and steel my shoulders as I inhale deeply, filling my nostrils with the heady floral fragrance. “Can we go over my calendar for the week in five minutes?” I ask, trying to gain back some of my footing, even though all I want to do is fall into a heap on the floor.

Mona nods. “Do you want some coffee before we do?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, distractedly staring at the flowers.

I head back to my office, the vase clutched in my arms, as I blink back the tears forming in my eyes. I’ve read Wyatt entirely wrong. I should have been honest with him about where my head was at instead of building walls around my heart.

Running my fingers through the bouquet, I set the vase back down on the table it was on. Sure, everything he’s done since my dad passed has been in direct contradiction to the man I thought he was, but it’s on me for refusing to believe it, despite the glaring evidence. I owe Wyatt an apology at the least, but most of all, I owe him my honesty.

As Mona enters my office, I make a decision. After work, I’m going to find Wyatt. There’s a lot we need to talk about, and it should have happened much sooner than today.

Mona hands me a sheet of paper with my schedule for the day printed out on it and a lump forms in my throat. We do this every morning and have for years; it’s nothing new, but it’s something Daddy instilled in me and yet another reminder of him.

The first was this morning, as I walked through the lobby and caught sight of the pictures of the ranch’s history that I’ve walked past countless times before. Front and center in the gallery was a picture of Daddy sitting on his horse out in one of the pastures with a grin spread across his face.

I wonder how long it will be before I can look at pictures without the sadness creeping in.

“I’ve rescheduled the online meeting with Rosemary Bishop for eleven; she wants to talk through the plans for her daughter’s upcoming wedding in September,” Mona says, cutting into my thoughts. “I’ll take the call, but I didn’t know if you wanted to sit in?”

Shaking my head, I refocus my attention on her and the work we have to get through. I’ve spent too much time sinking into my grief and I know that would be the last thing Daddy would want, even if he’d have understood why. I just hope Wyatt understands why I needed the time and space, because I’m done pushing him away.

43

WYATT

Grayson and I are waiting in his office for the others to arrive. I called a meeting earlier this morning because something has been weighing heavy on my chest for weeks now. When I walked out of Mr. Evergreen’s home, deep down I knew that I’d made a mistake. I just refused to acknowledge it, but as time has gone on it’s gotten harder to ignore.

The sound of the coffee machine being used in the kitchen down the hallway punctuates the quiet as Grayson reads over some paperwork at his desk, occasionally noting things down.

My body feels like a million bolts of electricity are running through it and I stand to ease the energy that’s setting me on edge. I don’t know why I’m nervous. Maybe it’s because I need them to understand why I want to do this.

They will.

Kade appears on the threshold, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. His focus bounces between me and Grayson before he enters the room and takes a seat. “Is there any reason it’s quieter than a church in here?” he asks, setting one ankle on his opposite knee.

Grayson sets his pen on his desktop and leans back in his chair. “No reason at all.” He casts a glance in my direction before turning his attention back to Kade. “You not making everyone a cup?” he asks, inclining his head to the mug Kade is in the middle of lifting to his lips.

“You’ve got legs,” Kade retorts.