Page 57 of Wilder Heart

“We saved you some pie and ice cream, and I’ve got chicken baking. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Wilder tuned them out, clenching his jaw hard. Halfway there, and then he could hide from accusing stares and suspicious questions.

“Wilder!”

He stiffened, warring between the urge to stop and speed up. He wanted to see Cash, wanted to see him so badly he feared Lain would see right through him.

“I thought you were going to take it easy today,” Cash said, coming to a stop beside him and giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder.

“I did,” he said, focusing onnotleaning into Cash’s side. It was harder than it had any right to be. His skin was freshly browned by the sun, and his honey eyes were bright with happiness. They must have had a good ride today, and he wanted to catch the scent of sunlight on Cash’s skin, taste the salt. Dangerous things he couldn’t let Lain see.

“He did!” Mary-Beth called. “He’s been icing his leg. I had some ice packs I let him borrow.”

Cash brightened. “Oh, good. How are you feeling?”

Like he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear forever. “Fine.”

Cash’s smile faded, and his head tilted. “Wilder?”

“Can I go, please?” he asked softly.

Cash’s lips pressed together. “Did something happen?”

“I just need to go.”

And then, over Cash’s shoulder, he heard Lain ask Mary-Beth quietly, “What was he doing in there?”

Cash obviously heard it, too. His brow furrowed, and his head turned. Wilder didn’t look, but a moment later Cash’s handtouched the center of his back. “Yeah, you can go. Want me to come?”

Cash was probably tired and hungry. He’d need to eat, have a shower, maybe discuss work stuff with Lain. Cash had a job to do here, after all. He couldn’t wait on Wilder hand and foot.

“No,” he croaked. “That’s okay. I think I’ll just turn in.”

“Wilder…”

He didn’t listen, hobbling to his door and closing it on the scene he’d left behind. Cash looking longingly after him, and Lain, farther back, watching him with an uncertain frown.

CHAPTER 19

CASH

In the days that followed, Wilder avoided them all like his livelihood depended on it. Cash caught Mary-Beth the following morning and asked what happened, and hearing that Wilder had stayed long enough to fall asleep there stole his breath. For a moment, he’d felt comfortable there. And then Lain had returned, and he’d skittered back into his shell so thoroughly that even Cash couldn’t penetrate it now. Wilder didn’t come out of his room until after the ranch hands were finished with breakfast. He overheard from others that Wilder took his meals alone, helped out in the horse barn doing whatever he could manage, and then hid in his room in the evenings. If Cash knocked, he didn’t answer, even if the light was on.

He caught glimpses of Wilder between work as the days bled into weeks. He went from two crutches and no weight on his right leg to one crutch and limping to, finally, no crutches at all. Cash missed him like a limb, and for the first time in his life, he wanted to toss the ranch’s endless work aside and go after what he wanted. The day to day work meant nothing when Wilder was hurting, and hewashurting. Whatever progress he’d made hadbeen erased. He was back to being the outcast, and Cash didn’t know whether he’d chosen it this time or felt forced into it.

“Much more curve to your spine, you’ll roll up like an armadillo, boss,” Clyde said, stopping beside him. “And if you stare any harder, you’ll burn a hole in the side of his face.”

Wilder was at the horse paddock, sharing an apple with Blaze. He had to know Cash was there, but he hadn’t once looked his direction.

Cash straightened his back and shot Clyde a halfhearted glare.

“Trouble in paradise?” Clyde asked.

“I have no idea. He’s pulled away hard. Not just from me, from everything. And I thought he knew…”

“Knew what?”

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