Page 56 of Wilder Heart

He nodded, wiping his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but it was a near thing. His throat hurt. “Thank you,” he rasped. “That’s—not something I’ve heard very often.”

She smiled sadly. “I thought as much.”

Wilder woketo the sound of pounding hooves outside. He opened his eyes, and for a moment he was seventeen again, napping on the couch and waking in a panic, wondering whether Dad had seen him. Sometimes, if he caught Wilder sleeping during the day, he’d drag him off the couch and wake him with a whipping for his laziness, but other times he’d bide his time, leaving Wilder wrong-footed and wary until retribution finally came when he least expected it.

But Dad was long gone, and the evidence was all around him. The nicely decorated living room. Annalise sitting on the floor beside him, her legs tucked under the coffee table, bobbing along to the music playing soft on the kids’ show she was watching. His sore leg was propped up, and a melted ice pack wrapped in a tea towel laid against his knee.

He was safe.

Without thinking, he laid a hand on Annalise’s delicate shoulder, anchoring himself to the present. She patted his fingers without looking back at him.

“Morning, Uncle Wilder.”

His heart squeezed at the casual familiarity of it. It wasn’t morning, but that didn’t matter. She was greeting him the same way she greeted any other family member who’d woken from a nap, and for a moment he didn’t feel like an outsider.

“Morning, baby girl,” he whispered.

“Come on, Annalise, let’s go meet Daddy,” Mary-Beth called from another room.

Wilder’s eyes sprang open. Lain was back. Lain was going to see him leaving the house with his wife and daughter.

“Shit.” He levered himself upright.

“Bad word,” Annalise said.

“Sorry. Here.” He handed her the ice pack and pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his crutches and moving toward the door as quick as his broken body allowed. Maybe if he got outside before they were done in the barn, Lain wouldn’t realize where he’d come from.

He shouldn’t have let her talk him into resting on the sofa. Hell, he shouldn’t have let her talk him into going inside at all. Lain hadn’t once invited him inside. He’d crossed a line—anotherline—and what would Lain do when he found out?

“Wilder?” Mary-Beth asked, emerging from the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. No.” He fought to inhale. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think he’d be happy about me being here.” He cast a glance back at Annalise, who was turning off the television and getting to her feet.

“If he has a problem, I’ll set him straight,” Mary-Beth said softly. “I don’t want you to worry.”

All he ever did was worry. Worrying about Lain was his natural state of being. About him, for him, what he thought, what he felt.

Mary-Beth opened the door for him, and he escaped onto the front porch. The evening air had a frigid bite to it, and his breath fogged in front of him as he inched down the steps. When he looked up, he blanched, because Lain, heading toward the house, had stopped dead in the driveway, staring at him.

Annalise barreled past him, leaping over the steps altogether. “Daddy! How was the ride? Did Persimmon do good? Did you have fun?”

Lain tore his eyes from Wilder and plastered a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course Persimmon did good. She’s a pro. And yes, I had fun—or as much fun as one can have working out in the sun. Come here.” He hauled her up into his arms, her long, coltish legs dangling. “How was your day? Are you okay?”

Wilder ducked his head, flushing with fury and embarrassment. Did Lain really think he’d ever hurt that little girl? He wasn’t a monster, goddammit. Turning away, he hobbled toward the bunkhouse, his throat aching with emotion he refused to show.

“Yeah! Perdita and Pongo found a mouse, and all the birds went nuts.”

“The turkeys killed a mouse?” Lain asked.

“Hi, honey,” Mary-Beth said, striding out to greet him.

“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

Wilder’s back burned under the weight of Lain’s stare. He didn’t have to turn around to know he was being watched.

“Of course. Everything’s just fine. We’ve had a good day, haven’t we, Annalise?”

“Yep!”

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