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She ignores my words, just as she ignores the deputy’s questions and their milling about the stables.
“Bright?”
She tilts her head back. I lean down and lift her, like a groom would a bride, and walk with her to her office.
I cradle her as she holds Colt.
She folds herself into my chest. “I need to go. I need Pop. He needs me.”
“Yes, he needs you. I need you too, darlin’. And Colt needs you, so we’re going to wait until we know it’s safe. It does us no good for us to put ourselves in danger, to be scattered and all hurt.”
“All?”
I tell her snippets of Braxton’s call, but nothing about his legal concerns. “Brax is taking Emberleigh to the hospital for a concussion. They’re following Pop’s ambulance. I know this isn’t your nature—sitting back and waiting—and I hate to ask it, but I am asking.”
“You should know better.” Her voice is small, not snarky, and I can feel the day weighing on her.
“For now, I suspect the second player, that one that came with him”—I spit out the word while looking to the barn floor where the blood of the assailant stains the ground— “is no longer a threat.”
Her eyes question me, but I shake my head. “Not yet, darlin’,” I whisper. “I won’t leave while the deputies are still on site and I’m not leaving so long as you’re under threat.”
Eventually, the deputies wander back.
“We’re done for now, Miss Ranger. Please don’t leave the area. We may have more questions and will follow up in the next day or so.” The brash one lets his gaze roam the barn. “Nice place you’ve got here. Came on a school field trip eons ago. Always wanted to come back, though…” His voice trails off before his eyes return to Bright’s face. “Though I didn’t expect it to be like this.
She nods. She wears the exhaustion of the day like a wet wool coat. For once... and surely the first time in my life, Brighton allows me to speak for her, answer on her behalf, trust me.
“Thank you, gentlemen. We’ll be here when you need us and help you in any way we can.”
EIGHTEEN
EMOTIONALLY EXHAUSTED AND VERBALLY CONSTIPATED
BRIGHTON
No one will ever mistake me for being patient.
Or demure.
Emotionally exhausted and verbally constipated, maybe. But just today.
I have no bandwidth for bullshit.
When the pure, sweet sounds of an October midday hit my ears, and not filled with the ringing from a pistol fired indoors without hearing protection, not swarmed by ambulance sirens or the wails of police cruisers. When Colt isn’t screaming in fear and Strait isn’t whinnying and fighting against his enclosure. When Luna isn’t howling or hiding.
When the sounds are just birds chirping and the wind singing through the barn, Colt’s little snores and the steady thrum of Eli’s breathing, that’s the moment I exhale.
It’s also the moment I can’t not move.
“Eli?”
“Greatest gift in the world is hearing you call me that.” His murmur mirrors his soft eyes. “Though you know I’m partial to hearing it when I’m inside you.”
“You’re trying to distract me.”
“Yes. And no.” He kisses my forehead.
“I can’t sit here knowing Pop is hurt. We don’t have an update on him or Emberleigh.”
