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I struggled to take a deep breath, but my lungs refused to cooperate. Everything was spinning—the world, my thoughts, my stomach. I thought I might be sick, and I leaned forward, shoving my head between my knees.
Boone.
I needed Boone. More than water or air or anything else in this world. I jumped to my feet and stalked across the pasture toward the barns, nearly running. My eyes blurred with tears, my throat tight as I struggled to get my breathing under control. All I could think about was falling into Boone’s arms. I needed him to hold me tight. I needed him to tell me everything was going to be okay, even if it wasn’t—
Isn’t this exactly what James warned you about? The thought came to me in an exasperated, disapproving voice that sounded exactly like my father’s, and it caught me so off guard I nearly stumbled. When will you ever face reality, Richard? When will you ever stand on your own two feet?
I stopped running and pushed a hand to my stomach, my chest burning.
I’d never been enough for my father. I’d been a constant disappointment. I’d never measured up, and now that he’d died, I never would.
The thought hollowed me out, causing me to nearly double over with grief.
After a few stunned moments, I finally straightened up and numbly made my way back toward the bunkhouse. I couldn’t go to Boone. Not right then. How selfish would it be to throw the hot, conflicted mess of my emotions at his feet and take shelter in his arms when there was a chance I might eventually break his heart? Boone deserved better than that.
And, fuck, if figuring out the truth of my feelings for Boone had seemed impossible ten minutes ago, it felt twice as impossible now. My phone was already pinging with a dozen texts confirming my flight, letting me know about upcoming meetings with lawyers, and informing me of decisions that needed to be made regarding my father’s final arrangements. I could feel my brain shutting down and compartmentalizing.
I skirted the edge of the barns, hoping to stay out of sight. I couldn’t face anyone. Couldn’t handle their shock and sympathy. If I tried, I’d shatter into a million jagged pieces that would never go back together again.
I slipped through the back door to the bunkhouse, grabbed a suitcase, and threw things inside without thought. When I was done packing, I hesitated. I couldn’t just leave the ranch without telling someone. I didn’t want anyone to worry.
I grabbed a pad of paper, scrawled a note, and folded it in half, writing Boone’s name on the front.
Then I left the Silver Fork just as abruptly as I’d arrived, without saying goodbye.
21
BOONE
Nothing could wipe the smile from my face as I went about my morning chores, not even Walt’s bogus lawsuit. Sure, it was going to be a pain in the ass to deal with, and an expensive pain at that, but that’s what lawyers were for. Instead, I let my thoughts drift to Richard and the plans we’d made to sneak away for some alone time after lunch.
When Jed approached me half an hour later with a grim set to his lips, I knew it was going to be bad news. I held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m in a good mood and don’t need any more bad news today.”
Of course, that didn’t stop him. “Just got a call from Hunter over at the Worthy ranch. He came across a cow with a Silver Fork ear tag just standing in the middle of the road.”
The good mood I’d been riding all morning instantly soured.
“Also said he thought he saw a couple more cows in the distance but couldn’t read their tags. He figures they’re probably Silver Fork too.”
I ran a hand down my face. “Fuck.”
Jed nodded. “That about sums it up.”
I shook my head. “It’s gotta be a fence break out near Mob Creek, but Richard and I checked that area just a couple weeks ago.” This was the last fucking thing I needed. We were already stretched thin without having to go riding fences.
I let out a frustrated growl. “You and Hiram take the trailer and go round up our girl from the road. See if you can also round up the ones Hunter caught sight of nearby. I’ll take Tyler to see if we can figure out how they got out and how many we’re missing. Mercy and PeeWee can hold down things here.”
“What about Richard?”
I thought of our last trip to Mob Creek and how much I’d enjoy a repeat performance. There was a good chance I could be gone overnight, and I hated the thought of missing even a single night with Richard. But at the same time, that last trip had pushed the limits of Richard’s endurance in the saddle, and I knew this trip would be even harder. There wouldn’t be time for long breaks in the shade or picnic lunches along the creek.
