Page 50 of Montana Justice

She started another song, this one about a girl who loved a boy from the wrong side of town. Her voice caught on certain lyrics, like they meant something personal, but she pushed through. I found myself holding my breath, not wanting to break whatever spell had settled over the barn.

But Caleb spotted me first. His excited babble made Piper turn, and the transformation was instant. The song died on her lips. Her shoulders went rigid. That familiar wariness slammed back into place like a door closing.

“Lachlan.” Color flooded her cheeks. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” I stepped fully into the barn, hating how the light dimmed in her eyes. “You have a beautiful voice.”

She focused on the currycomb in her hand, running her thumb along the bristles. “I was just passing time. Keeping Caleb entertained.”

“Is that what you were doing? Because from where I stood, it looked like you were happy.”

The wordhappymade her flinch—like she didn’t deserve happiness. “I should finish up here. Duchess needs her water topped off, and I still have two stalls to muck?—”

“Piper.” I moved closer, slow and careful, like approaching a spooked horse. “You’re allowed to be happy. You know that, right?”

She stared at me for a long moment, and I caught a glimpse of something raw and desperate in her expression before she looked away. “Happiness isn’t really in the cards for people like me.”

“People like you?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” I stopped just outside Duchess’s stall, giving Piper space but not letting her retreat completely. “Tell me what you mean.”

She was quiet for so long I thought she wouldn’t answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “People who’ve done things. Bad things. People who don’t deserve—” She cut herself off, shaking her head.

“You deserve good things, Piper. You deserve to sing and laugh and not feel guilty about it.”

That seemed to break something in her. Her eyes filled with tears she quickly blinked away, but not before I saw them. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.”

But she was already closing off again, that wall slamming back into place. I recognized a tactical retreat when I saw one, so I changed approaches.

“What time are you done here?”

She glanced at the barn clock. “About thirty minutes. Why?”

“I want to take you and Caleb to dinner. In town.”

Her head snapped up. “I can cook?—”

“I know you can. You’ve been cooking amazing meals every night. But I want to take you out. Let someone else do the cooking for once.” I saw her about to protest and added, “A real dinner. No rushing, no dishes to clean up after. Just you, me, and Caleb enjoying a meal together.”

“Lachlan—”

“One dinner. That’s all I’m asking.”

She bit her lower lip, glancing between me and Caleb. I could see the war playing out in her eyes—wanting to say yes but afraid of…something. Always afraid of something I couldn’t name.

“Okay,” she finally whispered.

“Great. I’ll help you finish up here, then we can head home to change.”

Her eyes widened. “Change?”

“Nothing fancy. Just want to make it nice.” I grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “Been a while since I’ve been on a proper date.”

The worddatemade her freeze again, but before she could backtrack, I grabbed a pitchfork and headed for the next stall. Sometimes action was better than words.

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