Page 63 of Ride the Sky

AWelcome Homegarland and pots of sunflowers sit outside on the front stoop. It brightens the cottage, but not the shadows inside me.

Dakota lets out a low laugh. “Ruby is happy you’re home. We all are.”

I watch as Charlie and Ford unload Lawless and Lovely into the barn behind my cottage. I think of the wild horses in Arizona, and tears prick behind my eyes. I miss them. I said goodbye toVic in the hospital, but I never got to say goodbye to El Toro Ranch, or Black Betty, my wild mustang.

Dakota blows out a breath, gaze on a bright-yellow jalopy. “Dad’s here.”

I swallow. “Fuck.” Facing my father is not something I’m ready to do.

Dakota pulls into the driveway. Wrapping her arm around the seatback, she twists to look at me. “You ready?”

“No.” I make a face. “Don’t make me live with a boy, Dakota.”

She laughs.

“You and Wyatt will be okay. And if you’re not, you call me. You’re priority.”

No way in hell. They have a newborn and a bakery. It’s bad enough Wyatt’s been saddled with babysitting me. I left Resurrection so he didn’t have to worry about me. Now? Fat chance of that.

Dakota cuts the engine. I reach for the door handle, but before I can open it, Wyatt’s there.

“Here,” he says, and I hate the way I heat all over. “I’ll help you.”

“Ugh. Fine.” I hold out my arms.

It takes some awkward maneuvering, but after two days on this cross-country road trip, we have it down pat. Wyatt picks me up easily and keeps me there. In his arms.

“Put me down,” I snap, shoving at his shoulder. “I can walk.”

“Thought I’d carry you over the threshold,” he drawls.

I glare at him, and the sonofabitch has the gall to grin. “Don’t you dare.”

Chuckling, he sets me down beside him. He stands tall over me, long-legged, eager, so goddamn beautiful he catches my breath. Ugh, he smells like leather and pine. How does he smell so good after nine hours in a truck?

The grin on his face fades as he scans the cottage. “I don’t want you on stairs,” he says. “I’ll build you a ramp.”

I bristle. “I don’t want a ramp.”

A big sigh from Davis behind us.

“Tough shit,” Wyatt growls as Davis sets down my walker. A piece of me for the next three months. Discombobulated, I get my bearings by gripping the rubber handles of my walker.

Slowly, I hobble forward. I take the stairs like they taught me in in-patient therapy. Put the walker one step length in front of me then place my weaker leg into the middle of the walker. Stronger leg goes next to it.

Repeat.

For every. Fucking. Step.

I can feel everyone behind me waiting, hovering, walking slower than normal. My cheeks burn.

Fuck this. All of it. This shitty homecoming, this stupid walker, the sad eyes of my friends and family. This blue-sky bullshit like the world is so happy I’m back when all I want to do is scream.

When I’ve made it to the porch, Dakota opens the screen door.

My breath lodges in my chest as a surge of memories hit me.

I hate this house and what it means. It means Aiden/Danny. Aiden/Danny with his hands all over me, my body warming in response. Letting him kiss me. Letting him into my bed. Letting my guard down only to have regretted it ever since.

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