Page 25 of Wilder Heart

“When? Recently?” Cash asked coolly.

“No, years ago when he was a delinquent little teenager.”

“Why didn’t the police handle it then?” He couldn’t very well call the police over a ten-year-old accusation, and they bothknew it. If Gary didn’t call the cops back when it happened, it was his own damn fault.

“My wife. Elena didn’t want me to, said we should just let it go. But Iknewhe was doing it.”

Cash gave him a push and flicked a dismissive hand at the phone. “Put that away. He hasn’t committed a crime today, and he won’t. You can’t prove he stole anything back then, and he damn sure hasn’t stolen anything today.”

“Thatyouknow of,” Gary sneered. “He’s a monster. I’m telling you. There’s no fixing criminals like him. Just look at him. Prison just made him worse.”

Wilder’s expression shuttered, and Cash wanted to scream.

“Wilder, go out to the truck and wait for me.” He handed the truck’s keys to him, and Wilder skirted around Gary and rushed toward the door, walking as quickly as social convention allowed.

Once he was out of sight, Cash said, “You should be ashamed of yourself, Gary.”

Most of the tension drained from the old man’s body, but the obstinance lingered in his eyes. “He’s not to come back here. I won’t allow it.”

This wasn’t the only grocery store in Roselake, and Cash didn’t take kindly to threats. “It’s a small town, Gary, but it’s not that small. If you refuse service to any of my ranch hands, we’ll stop doing business altogether.” They spent hundreds of dollars here every month on food for both the bunkhouse and Lain’s house, and they sold Scott’s Grocery some premium cuts of beef. Cash would raise hell with Lain to cut Gary out if this was the way he wanted to behave. “If you’re that pissed about what happened damn near ten years ago, I’ll see that Wilder pays you back for whatever he stole.”

Gary lifted his nose into the air. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

Cash took his phone out and stepped away from his cart. “So be it. I’ll call Lain and tell him to take your name off the next shipment?—”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on now,” Gary said hurriedly.

Cash whirled on him, this time jabbing a finger athimthe same way he’d done to Wilder. “Stay away from Wilder Blackwood. If he comes in this store, you let him go about his business. You let bygones be bygones and let him move on from the mistakes he made when he was a kid. Or did you never fuck up when you were a teenager?”

Gary’s mouth pursed. “Fine. But I expect you to keep an eye on him, Cash. I don’t trust him.”

“You’ve made that clear.” Cash pocketed his phone and pushed his cart toward the wide-eyed cashier. He wanted to get this over with and go check on Wilder. He looked ready to bolt—and while he didn’t think Wilder would leave without him, he didn’t want to keep him waiting when he was already stressed.

CHAPTER 10

WILDER

Wilder paced in front of the truck. He couldn’t bring himself to sit down inside it. His heart rabbited in his chest, and his palms were clammy with sweat. If Gary called the police on him for any reason, they’d haul him right back to jail, no questions asked. He was a parolee. One toe even allegedly out of line, and he’d be behind bars before he could say, ‘I’m innocent.’ He’d thought he was immune to this kind of fear after so long on the inside, but one confrontation from Gary and his greatest fear was unearthed.

Jesus, he didn’t want to go back to prison.

Panic clawed up his throat, and his eyes burned. He’d barely begun getting used to life on the outside. It wasn’t fair that the threat of prison was hanging over him again already—and for something so inconsequential. Maybe he’d stolen food a few times, but only because he didn’t have any other choice. It wasn’t like he was cheating the store out of hundreds of dollars. It was bread and cheese, for fuck’s sake. He’d accepted his last sentence. Do the crime, do the time. He knew that. But he hadn’t done anything this time, and he didn’t want to go to prison again because of one old man’s grudge over something he did as a desperate teenager.

AndCash. God, he never wanted somebody like Cash to see the evidence of his unfortunate past. Cash was so strong and steadfast, so careful in everything he said and did. The fact that he heard everything Gary said made him want to crawl into a hole and die.

He would never be able to escape his past. Even though he’d done the time, the choices he’d made would haunt him forever. Nobody here would ever let him forget what he’d done.

Maybe he should leave. He could find another ranch. If he gave his parole officer enough notice, they’d probably let him move to another town. It wasn’t ideal that he was already having problems just a month after getting out, but maybe he was stupid to think he could come back to Roselake and pick up where he left off. Lain could barely look at him. Nobody fucking wanted him here.

No, a little voice in the back of his head said. That wasn’t true. With a shiver, he remembered Cash’s hand on his arm, his voice rumbling softly,‘I’m glad you’re here.’

Hands took him by the shoulders. Startled, Wilder grabbed the figure by the shirt, preparing to shove them away—until his eyes landed on Cash’s furious scowl. He sucked down a breath, an apology on the tip of his tongue.

“Are you okay? I’ve said your name like three times.” The fury drained from Cash’s face, leaving concern behind.

The words tumbled out of him quickly. “Sorry, I-I’m sorry. Are the police on their way? Are they?—”

“No,” Cash growled. His hands slid across Wilder’s shoulders to cup his face. “No, he didn’t call anyone. No police are coming. You’re safe. I’m not letting anyone take you anywhere.”

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