Page 90 of Ride the Sky

“Deal, then.”

He extends a hand, and I take it. Our callouses scrape together. He doesn’t shake, but instead, pulls me toward him.

“Thank you for this,” I say, hating the flutter in my chest. “Thank you for…” I search for the right words. “Putting up with me this last month.”

Something like amusement crosses his face. “I don’t put up with you. Hell, I like you, Fallon.” He caresses a thumb over the back of my hand. His voice drops to a throaty rasp. “I haven’t felt whole since you left.”

Shock slams into me. I want to sayme tooso badly I shiver. But it’s too much. Too scary to reveal the truth. Too dig into his words.

Desperate to kill the moment, I arch a brow. “I’d kiss you if you weren’t so stupid.”

Wyatt laughs darkly, and then he lets go of my hand. Before I can be disappointed by the loss of him, his big hands fit to my ribs. He smiles, his gaze dropping to my face and lingering there. Then his deep, rumbling timbre sweeps over me. “You are the bravest, the best person I have ever known, Fallon. If anyone can get back on a horse, it’s you.”

I go rigid. Not quite trusting his words. My heart. So different from so long ago. “Do you mean that?”

He squeezes my ribs. “I do.”

Grateful. So grateful to have him on my side. I’ve fucked up everything. With Dakota. My father. My body. My marriage. But I can do this. I can ride again.

Because of him.

Wyatt. The cowboy I met so long ago. The trainer with the eye roll. Charming, funny, broody, a pain in my ass. The cowboy who sat with my father during his chemo sessions. Who roughhoused with his brothers but was gentle and kind to any little kid who rode at the ranch. Who can get a horse to do anything he asks.Who argued with me for hours in motel rooms about life and music and books. Who sat with me in the hospital after Aiden and never once let go of my hand.

Who hurt me.

So long ago.

I remember what he said. I remember crying in Dakota’s arms and cursing Wyatt Montgomery. His words tore open wounds, all my insecurities about my father, about being a girl. I remember tearing every poster I had of him off my bedroom wall and burning them in the backyard. I remember it all, but when I stare into those endless bright-blue eyes, the memories don’t hurt as much.

I don’t hate him.

Not anymore.

Maybe I never did.

Wyatt grins.

“You ready to ride, Trouble?” he drawls, that impossible smile heating my blood.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Ready to ride.”

THIRTEEN YEARS AGO

Wyatt glares up at me on the horse. “You ’bout ready to listen to me?”

I trot Lawless around the pasture. “Maybe.”

For the last six months, I’ve spent three days a week at Runaway Ranch training with Wyatt Montgomery. It’s an interesting situation, to say the least. Wyatt barks orders, while the other brother stumbles around the ranch like he doesn’t know what he’s searching for.

Arms crossed over his broad chest, Wyatt snarls, “Get down and get that cigarette out of your mouth.”

I take it out of my mouth, flick my ash at him, then settle it back between my lips. “You’re bossy.”

“Have to be when it’s you on the receiving end,” he grumbles.

I grin at his broody expression. I live to aggravate Wyatt Montgomery.

He annoys me. Because he’s better than me. Because my father likes him better than me. I don’t miss Stede clapping him on the back and having manly conversations without me. When my father isn’t with me, he’s with Wyatt. These dumb cowboys who moved to our town and bought our ranch.

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