Page 35 of Wilder Heart

CHAPTER 13

CASH

The next morning when Cash came into the bunkhouse for breakfast, Wilder was already finishing up. He was standing at the sink and rinsing his plate while everyone else still sat around the table. Cash admired the lean length of his body from behind as he grabbed a plate for himself and went to the pan on the stove. Wilder’s head turned, like he was physically aware of Cash’s presence. Neither of them spoke, but Cash yearned to reach out, to capture some of the starlit magic of last night.

After Wilder put the plate in the dishwasher—again without asking, a talent he should point out to the rest of the hands—Cash swore he felt his breath on the back of his neck as he slipped past. Their clothes brushed, and a coil of desire took root low in his gut. He’d never responded to anyone the way he did to Wilder, and he desperately wanted more than the taste he’d received last night.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

His attention was pulled away almost immediately because the ranch’s combine was having some kind of problem starting. They still had a field of soybeans left to harvest, and the last thing they needed was for the combine to give out on them now.If it was something that needed parts, it would set their plans back for moving the herd and might even eat into their budget for winter feed. So while he and Clyde went out to the tractor barn to take a look, the rest of the hands focused on the chores that needed doing around the ranch, riding the fence lines and checking the fields for toxic plants.

With a sigh, Cash followed Clyde to one of the work trucks and clambered into the driver’s seat, casting one last lamenting look at the horse barn, where Wilder’s silhouette was visible within, slinging a saddle onto Blaze’s back. He was going to ride him today for ranch business for the very first time, and Cash was going to miss it.

“Come on, let’s put ‘er in gear and get moving,” Clyde said. “The sooner we get out there and fix the problem, the sooner we can come back and let you get back to mooning over the boss’s brother.”

Cash sputtered. “Wh-What? What the hell are you talking about? Nobody’smooning.”

“You are, plain as day,” Clyde said, cracking the window and digging a cigarette pack out of his breast pocket.

“Those are bad for you, y’know,” Cash said.

“So are felons, one could argue,” Clyde replied, giving him a sidelong glance.

Cash shot him an indignant glare. “First of all, there’s a lot more to him than that. And second of all?—”

“I know, I know. I’mmessingwith you, boss.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Lord knows it’s been a long time since you’ve shown any interest in anything but this ranch. I think it’s good for you.”

Cash relaxed—somewhat. “Does anyone else know?”

“Naw, they’re all too wrapped up in their own shit, I reckon. A couple of them might suspect, given how much time the two ofyou have been spending together, but nobody’s said anything, as far as I know.”

“Good. That’s good. I don’t know how he’d feel about anyone knowing.”

“So there’s something to know?” Clyde asked as the truck bounced over the narrow trail.

Cash sighed, watching the breeze billow over the grassy fields around them for a moment. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet, but… yeah. I think so.”

“Is he as prickly with you as he is with the rest of us?”

Cash tried to hide his smile, thinking about the way Wilder’s pretty blue eyes lit up like a sunny spring sky when he was happy. How his dry sense of humor always seemed to catch Cash by surprise. His heart squeezed at the thought. He wanted Wilder to always be smiling, always be laughing. He deserved it.

“Good God, look at that face,” Clyde said, looking at him in faux-horror. “You’ve got it bad, boss. Real bad.”

“Shut up,” he groused halfheartedly.

Clyde chuckled, sucking at his cigarette and turning away to blow the smoke out the window. “Should I give him the shovel talk? Tell him he better be good to you?”

“Hell no. You might scare him off. Or raise his hackles. I don’t want him to feel like people think he’s not good enough.”

Clyde nodded sagely. “I understand. He gets that enough after all he’s been through.”

“He does. I hate it. But there’s no changing the minds of these small town folks.”

“What has Lain said?”

Cash sighed. “Very little. I don’t think he really knows how to handle Wilder being back.”

“Does he know how you feel about his wayward brother?”

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