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I look over at her. She’s watching me with serious blue eyes, her lean legs pulled into her chest. Her hair’s disheveled, long rose-gold strands framing her face, making her look more gorgeous than she has the right to be.
I shove out of the chair and sit beside her, running a hand down the slender curve of her shoulder. “Sunflower, you okay?”
She meets my gaze for a second, then turns her face toward the balcony, forehead furrowed. “I’m fine, Charlie. Don’t worry about me.”
I frown. The shadows under her eyes from last night are still there and her sunshine glow is missing. I don’t like her being sad. It kills me.
“Hey.” I kiss her sweet lips and pull her into my arms. “Tonight, we try for the sunrise.”
Tears fill her eyes.
“Baby, what’d I say?” My thumb sweeps away the lone tear that escapes.
“Nothing.” Inhaling a breath, she forces a shaky smile. “You’ll be gone all day?”
I stroke a hand over her hair. “If Ford has his way, yeah.”
Then I swear, seeing the time on the nightstand clock. I’m late. Standing, I collect my wallet and my keys and head toward the door. Ruby’s voice stops me.
“Charlie?”
“What is it, darlin’?” I drawl.
“I’ll miss you.” Her smile is watery.
Grinning, I head back to the bed. “Take a day off,” I tell her, running a finger over the curve of her flushed cheekbone. “I want you in bed when I get home.”
Long lashes lowering, she draws a heart on the comforter. “Yeah. Maybe.”
I give her one last kiss, then grab up my hat and go meet Ford.
We burn five hours in town. Dropping off Ruby’s colt, loading up the truck with supplies, and bullshitting with Stede at the cancer center. Finally, around four in the afternoon, we hit the road back to the ranch.
Later than I liked.
The knot in my chest hasn’t loosened since I left Ruby. I feel unsettled leaving her alone by herself, and all I want to do is get back to her. Our conversation has been rattling in my head throughout the day. I don’t like what I saw on her face, even if it was hard as hell to read it.
Ford yawns from the passenger seat, searching for the baseball game on the radio.
“Look, I’m just saying if the White Sox didn’t want drama, they should have traded Ham Jeffries. That fucker couldn’t hit a fastball if I soft-served it.”
I snort. Though Ford’s retired from the major leagues, it doesn’t stop him from interjecting his colorful commentary on all things baseball.
I scruff a hand through my hair. “What’d you think about Stede?”
Ford shrugs. “Think he’s ornery as ever.”
“He’s on good meds. He’ll outlive us.”
“Speaking of meds—” Ford twists in his seat to stare at me. “What about Ruby? Has she told you about her thing?”
My eyes flick to him. “Her thing?”
Ford shoots me adon’t be an idiotlook. “Those pills she’s taking. Don’t tell you haven’t seen them.”
“She’s anemic.”
“That what she said?”
