Page 38 of Saddles

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed.”

A crease forms in her forehead. “Why are you on the floor?”

I grit my teeth. I don’t want to spell this out for her. “Because you can have the bed.”

“Ford, it’s your place. I can sleep there if you need space.” Her lower lip sticks out, still bearing the scab of a wound she got earlier this week.

“I’ll be fine. You need the rest more than I do. Besides, the fire goes out if I don’t keep it fed.” It was almost freezing in here this morning because I stayed huddled up next to her to keep her warm.

I hate to admit I took an ounce of guilty pleasure in having someone to hold again. Even if she was so damn cold it made my nuts shrivel. It was fucking wrong and I don’t want to do that again.

Her nose wrinkles. “I won’t argue. It’s way more comfortable up here than down there.”

I kick off my boots and prop them next to the stove, then pull my jacket higher.

Roscoe hops up and slides to his belly next to my legs.

“See? I’ve got a buddy heater.” I reach down and scratch between his ears, then lean against my elbow.

Just like when I’m out on range in the summer. He’s there to keep an eye on me.

Her wrist brushes the denim on my knee and makes me jerk when she pats Roscoe on the head. “He’s a good boy.”

It’s irritating that her touch made my heart beat faster.

Chapter 12

April

Why does it bug me that he’s sleeping on the floor of his own house? He’s been nothing but kind to me, saving me, feeding me, even cutting my hair.

And now he’s lying with the dog.

Do I want him up here with me?

Not really, I barely know him. But, well, fuck.

It doesn’t stop me from feeling shitty.

With a full belly, and the warm bed, it’s hard to fight the sleep tugging at me.

Except every time he gets up to check the fire, it jolts me out of whatever haze was trying to pull me under.

I’m both grateful to be away from the brothers, yet also terrified that they’re coming back for me.

“Sorry, had to put another log on,” Ford grumbles when he catches me watching him before he settles onto the floor.

“Do you ever get used to it?” The only light is the faint flicker of flames through the clouded glass of the stove.

“Used to what?” His deep voice fills the night even if I can’t see him from where I’m at.

“Being alone. I always preferred it. But right now, it scares the shit out of me,” I whisper to the ceiling.

He takes so long to answer, I start to wonder if he’s gone to sleep.

“No.” His word hangs in the air.

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