Page 22 of Wilder Heart

The sound of a screen door slamming shut caught their attention, and they turned at the same time to see Annalise racing across the driveway toward the barn. Lain was following behind her at a more sedate pace, an easy smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he watched her. It faltered slightly when he saw Wilder and Cash standing together. He raised a hand to wave. Cash waved back, but Wilder, he noticed, ducked his head, fussing with the way his hat sat on his head.

They really needed to clear the air.

“Have you two talked at all since the night you arrived?” he asked quietly.

Wilder shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing to say, I reckon.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I’m here to do a job, that’s all. He doesn’t want me getting involved with his family and the life he’s built here.”

“How do you know that?” Cash challenged as Lain disappeared into the barn with Annalise. He must be letting her ride tonight. “Did he say as much?”

Wilder stepped closer, giving Cash a clear view of the darkness in his gaze. With only the fence between them, Cash swore he could feel the heat emanating from Wilder’s sun-warmed body.

“I was behind bars for eight years,” he rasped quietly. “You want to know how many times my brother came to see me? Or called me on the phone? Or sent me anything?”

Cash’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to hear the answer.

“None,” Wilder went on. “He doesn’t need to say the words, Cash, and I sure as hell don’t need to hear them. His actionswere clear enough. The only reason I’m here now is because we both knew I had nowhere else to go. He blames me, and maybe he’s right to. I’ll never regret what I did, because that man was evil, but Lain will always see me as the one who orphaned him.”

Cash’s mouth was dry. He wanted to argue, but what could he say? And a traitorous feeling buzzed under his skin at the sound of his name on Wilder’s lips.

“You, too,” he finally said, stubbornly.

A flicker of a frown crossed Wilder’s face. “What?”

“You orphaned you, too, didn’t you?”

Wilder’s expression cleared, and his pretty blue eyes fell away. “Maybe. But I’m the one who made the choice. I took his choice away, didn’t I?”

“You were a kid. I don’t think either of you really had a choice.”

Wilder sighed heavily. “There’s no point in discussing it, is my point. I can’t change what I did. I can’t even apologize for it, because I don’t regret it. So if that’s what he’s wanting to hear, I can’t give it to him. The best I can hope to do is keep my head down, finish out my parole, and then move on.”

But Cash didn’t want that. He didn’t like the idea of Wilder disappearing from the ranch one day and never returning. This was his home. It was where he belonged… wasn’t it?

One of the big bay doors opened into another paddock connected to the barn, and Lain led a saddled Persimmon out by the reins. Annalise bounded along beside them. While Cash was distracted, Wilder climbed over the fence beside him. Before he could slip away, Cash reached for him, snagging an arm and pulling him back around. Wilder’s slightly wide eyes met his, and Cash wondered at the last time anyone had dared to put a hand on him like this.

Face to face, Cash’s thoughts poured straight from his head. His mouth opened but nothing came out. Wilder’s gaze fell to his lips, and a hot jolt went down his spine at the attention.

“I can’t speak for anyone else,” he said softly, and Wilder inched closer, as though to hear him better. The brim of their hats brushed. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

Wilder’s face softened. His hand covered Cash’s for a tender moment, and then he gently tugged Cash’s hand from his arm. His palm slid up Cash’s forearm as it fell back to his side, thumb stroking the sweat-dried grit on his skin idly.

His eyes twinkled with mirth as he said, “Well, you’ve obviously been working too hard, then. You’re delusional.”

That startled a laugh out of him, and Wilder smiled at the sound.

“Night, Cash.”

“Goodnight, Wilder.”

He watched Wilder walk away with a tightness in his chest, certain it wouldn’t be the last time.

It wasafter breakfast one morning when Clyde approached Cash and said, “Hey, boss, the kitchen’s running pretty low on some things. You want me to run into town later?”

Going grocery shopping for the bunkhouse was typically a job he’d delegate to someone else, but this time, Cash looked across the room at Wilder as he put his hat on and stepped outside. The others had gone into town on more than one occasion since Wilder joined the crew, either for ranch business or to relax at one of the local bars, but Wilder himself hadn’t left the ranch since the day they bought his clothes almost six weeks ago.

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