Page 23 of When The Dust Settles

“Hey,” I said, smiling down at him.

He squinted a second and then jerked under my hand. “What’s the matter? Are you all right? Is your side hurtin’ you or—”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” I soothed. “I just wanted to say I was sorry for being a dick earlier, and I’m sorry I got hurt.”

He stared at me for a moment. “Am I awake?”

I snorted out a soft laugh. “Just—accept the damn apology, will you?”

“Yeah, all right,” he agreed, smiling sleepily up at me. “I wanted you on the drive, Glenn. You make it easy for me.”

“No, I don’t. The opposite is true and we both know it.”

He shook his head. “No, sir. I didn’t worry one time today until I knew you were hurt.”

It was a nice thing to say. “This just ain’t me no more.”

“I know it,” he said, studying my face. “But that don’t mean you got no home on the Red. Working it and living on it are two different things. You go on and ask Stef if that ain’t the God’s truth.”

I nodded.

He reached up and patted me gently on the cheek. “Just visit, for crissakes, will you, please? It ain’t like seeing you pains me or nothin’.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I promised as I got up. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“I know you won’t see a doctor, but will you lie and say you will?”

I grinned down at him. “You bet.”

He shook his head and I headed for the tent flap.

“It wouldn’t kill you to come out and see me.”

“We’re all busy, Zachariah,” I said, turning toward the sound of his voice, unable to see him. “But since you get Sundays off, maybe you can find it in your schedule to go fishin’ with me or watch a game or such. I’ll even drive out and fetch you.”

He cleared his throat. “I’d like that. Call me, would you?”

I would definitely make an effort because it was time to bury the hatchet. It was my ax to grind, after all. They all responded to me, to my anger, my hurt; they weren’t carrying it around for anyone else.

Outside, I took a deep breath and felt better than I had all day, even with the twinge of pain in my side. Since I needed to talk to Mac as well, I went looking for his tent, and when I came around the corner of the encampment, nearly collided with the pretty face from earlier in the day.

“Shit,” he gasped, flustered, as he grabbed at me to steady himself. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there.”

“Course not. No way you could have,” I said gently, lowering my tone in hopes he’d follow my example. It was very early in the morning and his voice was loud.

“I was just—I—” He stopped and his eyes searched my face as he let go of me. “May I ask what you’re doing out here so late?”

I nodded. “I was looking for Mac’s tent.”

He inhaled sharply. “I just came from there.”

“Oh” was all I could think of to say before I turned to go.

But he slipped around in front of me, barring my quick retreat and stepping in close—too close—pressing up against my chest, staring up into my eyes, the scrutiny intense. “Are you the reason I wasn’t allowed to stay?”

“What?” Seriously, the man could have knocked me over with a feather, because what the hell did he think was going on between me and the foreman of the Red Diamond?

“I mean, a man like Mac Gentry,” the pretty man began, “you know he’s not for keeping, right?”