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“Where are the horses?” I ask, leaning on the counter.
“In the barn.”
“And Jack?”
He shrugs, leaning back to squint through the window at the mountains below. “He’s gone. I expect he’ll be back to collect what you owe him and take his calling cards. But he doesn’t stick around.”
“Jack’s always been whatever the opposite of a fair weather friend is,” I say. “When the storm’s over, he’s gone.”
We sit in silence for a long moment.
“Where’s Diane?” I ask.
His mouth thins. “I left her with Maddie. She was understandably upset.”
“She was never in love with Thomas, that marriage was bullshit,” I say, clearing my throat. “But I’m sorry for airing your shit.”
I don’t apologize unless I mean it and he knows that. He takes a second, I see his jaw work again like he’s trying to wring out his annoyance. Then he takes a sip of coffee and shakes his head.
“It’s all water under the bridge,” he says gruffly. “But I want a raise.”
“You’ll get one,” I say. “Are you staying?”
He frowns. “Staying? On the ranch? Where would I go?”
“I didn’t know if you wanted to try things with Diane. Maybe move out of the gatehouse and get a real place.”
He shakes his head, emptying his mug and setting it in the sink. “No, we’re a long way from reconciliation.”
“I think you can get there,” I say.
He nods once, and I’m not sure if he believes me, but I do. Keira and I have been through just as much and now I know she loves me enough to kill for me. Westin puts his coat on and pauses in the doorway.
“I’m getting the horses ready to go. You should wake Keira.”
He leaves and I climb the stairs slowly to find her up. She’s still in her jeans and sweatshirt and she’s braiding her red waves over her shoulder. She hears my steps and turns, relief evident on her face.
“How do you feel?” she asks, padding over in her socks.
“Like I got shot in the head,” I say.
I pull her in and kiss her and she melds to me. Her fingers dig into my bare chest for a second before they slide around my torso and clench behind my back. I brush the stray bits of hair from her face, cradling it.
“You were so brave,” I tell her. “Are you alright? You shouldn’t have had to kill him.”
“I wasn’t going to let him take you from me,” she says firmly. “I feel sick…when I think about killing him, but…I don’t regret it. Does that mean I’m a bad person?”
“No, redbird. You defended us both.”
Her lips quivers and I press my forehead to hers.
“Your father taught you to shoot like that,” I say.
She nods, pulling back, eyes glittering. “I felt him there, telling me how to aim and when to shoot.”
“You’re never alone, redbird.”
Her chin quivers and I kiss her mouth again to keep her tears at bay. When I pull back, she’s smiling. It’s a weak, brave smile and I know it’s taking everything she has not to shatter. I kiss her forehead and go to put on my coat and shirt. She pulls on her boots and holds out her hand.
