Page 112 of Ride the Sky

“About returning the pastry container,” Dakota says easily.

Duke flies at me. “Wy-Wy!”

I haul him up into my arms. “Hey, kid, you makin’ sure your Aunt Fallon behaves?”

His face scrunches. “Oh, yes, she’s a princess now.”

A scoff from Fallon. But her lips are curled in a soft smile. “Only man I’ll ever take orders from.” She plucks the tiara from her hair, hands it to Duke. “Make sure your Dad gets the royal treatment, kid.”

I kiss Duke and set him on the ground, turning to take Fallon’s arm. “You ready to go?”

We say goodbye to Dakota and grab the pastries. In a matter of minutes, we’re on the highway back to town.

That night, after dinner, I step outside onto the front porch of Fallon’s cottage. Crickets chirp in the brisk night air. Stars shine brightly above. Nights in Montana never fail to steal your breath.

But even in the peace of the country night, it feels like there’s a heavy weight settled on my shoulders. Those fucking roses. AnI love youI still need to give Fallon.

Younger.

No amount of time will make me forget it.

“Beer?” Fallon’s husky voice cuts through the quiet.

“Yeah.” I turn, fully taking her in. Her beauty’s staggering. Messy bun, gray sweats, and a tiny T-shirt. She’s the cowgirl of my dreams. “The show on?”

“Not yet.” She steps to my side, those hazel eyes glittering as she looks up at me. “You okay? You’re quiet for someone with such a big mouth.”

I chuckle. “Long day.” Then, remembering the promise she made to me to let me in, I amend. “Rand Younger’s coming to the ranch at the end of the summer. See if he wants to renew my grant or some shit like that.”

“You sound bitter.”

“I hate that guy.”

“Really? Why?” A curious expression crosses her face. “Thought he was hot shit in the rodeo world.”

I stare at the trees shifting in the wind. The silhouette of Meadow Mountain in the dark.

“Not feeling it?” Fallon asks. “Talking about it?”

I swallow hard, pushing away the memories. “Not really, no.” The anger burns too much. Not ready to lay it all on Fallon. Not right now.

But when I say that, she doesn’t poke or prod. Instead, she takes my hand and leads me to the rocker on her front porch. She curls up against me, resting her head on my shoulder. Slowly, I rock the rocker with my boot. Rhythmic movements sound, the squeak of the chain. We sit there in a comfortable silence like two people who share a life.

No family. No drama. Just us.

After a long hard day, it means everything that the one person here for me is Fallon.

Glancing up at the stars, their changed places in the sky, I kiss the crown of her head. “We’ll miss our show.”

“It’s okay. You know, Wy…” She clears her throat, looks up at me. Her hand lifts to my stubbled cheek. “You take care of me, but I can take care of you, too.”

My throat, my heart, feels too tight. “Thanks, Trouble,” I say hoarsely.

My girl. My fucking girl who pushes more times than she pulls, can soothe my broken soul with just one touch.

Fallon gives me one last curious glance and says, “I’m here. When you need me.” Then she slips her hand into mine and hangs on.

She just hangs on.

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