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“Oh, yeah. Amos was here yesterday afternoon, trying out gluten-free recipes. And you don’t have to worry about cross-contamination, either. You’ve got your own prep station.” He jerked his chin toward a metal prep table and the big sign above it that read NO GLUTEN in bold red capitals. “Seb set it up.”

My throat felt thick. Suitcases. Snap went the rubber band against my heart. I smiled at Miguel, then at Amos. “Thank you both.”

Amos grunted, already turning back to the dirty dishes he was washing. That didn’t bother me at all. Actions mattered so much more than pretty words. I had the feeling that beneath the gruff exterior, Amos was a puppy dog.

But he wasn’t wrong. I was in trouble. I only hoped it didn’t follow me here.

7

SEB

Jumping off a cliff when Lila was counting on me to stay alive was out of the question, so I headed to the health center to do the next best thing: hit something.

Tamilee Jones was behind the front desk, her usual place when she wasn’t with a guest, either breaking their body or putting it back together again. She was a short Black woman with ebony skin and a liking for fuchsia eyeshadow. She reminded me of one of those fitness instructors from the eighties. Boundless energy. Tough as nails. Neon.

“Hope you’re not here for a massage,” she said, glancing up from her eBook. “Emma is out this morning.”

“I know. She’s with my—” Fuck, I had to stop saying that. “She’s with Lila and Lennon. They’re giving her a tour of the ranch.”

“Good. I’ll meet her soon, then. Hopefully they pop in before my lunch break.” She was already turning back to her book. “Liam is in the dojo if you’re looking for a sparring partner.”

I nodded and kept moving. I’d expected to have the place to myself, seeing as it was nearly noon now and the guests and ranch hands would be busy with chores and lunch, but Liam mostly communicated in judgmental grunts and disapproving stares anyway, so that was pretty much the same thing.

Liam was whaling on the punching bag when I walked in. I dropped my bag and water bottle by the wall and watched him. His dark hair was so wet it was almost black, and his skin was slick with sweat. He’d been here for a while, working out whatever was eating at him with the heavy bag.

I had a pretty good idea of what that was. A five-foot-two blonde menace.

“You want to go a round?” I offered.

Liam stilled the bag, then nodded. “Sure. Let me take a minute and get some water.”

I pulled my wraps and gloves from my bag. There was something meditative about preparing to get the shit beat out of you, about wrapping your wrists and knuckles to protect them from the punches you would throw. Fights were measured in how much damage one person could do to another, but the truth was, you couldn’t hurt someone else without hurting yourself, too. There was no getting around that, so you better be damn sure it was worth it.

Or fun, at the very least.

“Didn’t think anyone would be here,” I said, shoving my hands into my gloves and tightening the straps.

Liam grunted. I took that as affirmation that he wasn’t in a talking mood.

Yep. This was going to be fun.

“Guess you’re on Blair duty tonight.” We circled each other slowly, carefully. “Explains why you’re here now.”

Liam landed a quick jab to my chest. A warning. One I didn’t heed.

“So, Emma has a date tonight, huh?” I kept moving, not giving him another opening. Letting his irritation build. “You gonna wait up? Make sure he doesn’t try to kiss her at the front door?”

His glower told me that was exactly what he planned to do. I grinned and dropped my fists like a dumbass who had never stepped foot inside a ring before. “I bet he takes her to park somewhere first. Make out under the stars.”

His fist connected with my chin, and I stumbled back. I deserved that. Maybe that’s why the pain blooming in my jaw felt so damn good. Not just good—right. A small cosmic reckoning for a great injustice that had been served. I couldn’t do anything about the injustice, but I could do this. I could feel pain. I deserve that.

“It’s not a date,” Liam growled. “He’s a new teacher at Blair’s school. He doesn’t know anyone in Mercy River.” Liam threw a punch, but he wasn’t focused on it, and I dodged easily. “They’re going to trivia night at the library. Grace organized it, and she and Alex will be there, too.”

Grace, who was also a teacher at Blair’s school, was Emma’s older sister. Alex, her husband, was a ranch hand here.

“Does that sound like a date to you?” Liam asked.

“It sounds like a family-sanctioned setup.”