Page 19 of Wilder Heart

“Guess he needs a word,” he said, glancing back at Wilder, whose expression had gone flat. “I mean it. Go have a break. I’d tell anyone else the same, so don’t think I’m babying you.”

“Babying the big bad felon?” Wilder said in a scandalized tone. “No one would dare.”

Cash gave him a playful shove. “Get out of here. Go on.”

“Yessir.” Wilder gave him what passed for a salute and turned on his booted heel. The back of his shirt was dusty and damp with sweat.

Cash made his way over to Lain, who ducked inside his office and sat heavily behind his desk. His straw hat, very similar to the one Wilder had picked out, was sitting atop a stack of paperwork.

“How’s he doing?”

Cash eased the door shut behind him and nodded. “He’s doing good.”

“Annalise has been asking me a thousand questions about him all morning.” He winced. “She thought he was me?”

“In her defense, you’re identical twins.”

Lain snorted. “Yeah, I know. That’s not—I just don’t think I prepared her well enough for his arrival. I mentioned he was my twin. I don’t think she really understood what that meant, though. How’s he been?”

Cash sat down across from him and took his hat off, dropping it in the empty chair beside him. “He seems… okay. He waffles pretty hard between relaxed and guarded. There’s a tension about him, like he’s expecting a hit from somewhere he can’t see.”

Lain pursed his lips. “That’s not a prison thing,” he said slowly. “That’s a thing our father instilled in him, I think.”

“Ah.” Cash didn’t quite know what to say to that. “He’s shown some interest in the mustang.”

“The wild one?”

“Mm-hm. He got him to take an apple out of his hand.”

Lain’s brows rose. “I’ll be damned. He always did love the horses. If he wants to keep working with him, that’s fine with me. Lord knows nobody else has had any luck with him, and I’d hate to get rid of him.”

“I was going to suggest as much. I’m hopeful that he can have him broken by the time we need to bring the herd down.”

Lain hummed. “Six weeks, yeah. I’d think that would be enough time for him to get a saddle on him and get him used to being ridden.” He paused, then asked, “Has he named him?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Let me know if he does. I’ll put it on the horse’s paperwork.”

Cash fought a smile. “How are you feeling about having Wilder back?”

Lain blew out a breath. “Hell, I don’t know. Conflicted. Sad. Nervous.” He shook his head. “I keep thinking about how different everything could’ve been.” He looked like he’d aged ten years just thinking about it.

“Boss, if it’s not too bold of me to suggest: I think you two should really sit down and have a conversation about all of that. I’m sure there are things left unsaid.”

“Oh, definitely. I just don’t have any idea how to say them. Or if they even really need to be said. There’s no changing the past, after all.”

“With all due respect, boss, I really think they do.”

“Bringing it all back up again would just hurt us both, I think. It’s over and done with. He served his time, and now he’s here. I think we should just focus on that.”

Cash wasn’t so sure about that. He remembered the way Wilder’s expression went carefully blank at the sight of Lain. There was a lot going on under the surface that he was trying to avoid showing. In his experience, keeping things bottled up never boded well for anyone.

But it wasn’t his place to push the matter.

CHAPTER 8

WILDER

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