Page 26 of Broken Roads
The traitor ignores me completely, racing straight for Hailey with his tail wagging so hard his entire back-end sways. He skids to a stop at her feet, looking up at her with blatant adoration.
Something hot and unpleasant coils in my gut as I watch Hailey's face light up at the sight of my dog.My dog, who's been my shadow since he was a pup. Who sleeps at the foot of my bed and follows me through every day's work without fail. Until now.
Crouching down, she scratches behind his ears. I can't hear what she's saying to him, but I can see the gentle way her fingers track through his fur and the smile that transforms her face into something too beautiful to look at directly.
Like seeing the sun without sunglasses. You know it'll hurt if you stare too long.
A muscle jumps in my jaw, ticking like a metronome counting beats I can't follow.
"Who's that lady, Mr. Walker?" Sarah asks, following my gaze with innocent curiosity.
The question catches me off guard, forcing me to acknowledge where my attention has wandered. Again.
"Nobody important," I say, the lie burning my tongue. "Just someone helping with paperwork for a while."
The words sound hollow even to my own ears. If she's nobody important, why can't I tear my eyes away? Why does the sight of her hands on my dog's fur make something possessive and primal rear up inside me? Why am I standing here mentally cataloging every detail of her appearance like I'm afraid I might forget it?
"She looks nice," Tommy/Timmy observes. "Your dog sure likes her."
"Bandit likes everyone," I mutter, though it's not entirely true. He's never taken to strangers this quickly. Never abandoned me to go greet someone else.
I force my attention back to the saddle, to the kids, to anything but the woman now walking toward her office with my dog prancing happily at her heels.
When she reaches her office door, she pushes it open with one hip and disappears inside. Bandit follows without hesitation, without so much as a backward glance in my direction.
I should be glad she's out of sight. Should be relieved I can focus on my lesson without distraction.
So why do I feel like I'm the one who's been abandoned?
Forcing the thought away, I continue with the lesson, but my eyes keep drifting to that office door, wondering what's happening inside. Wondering if Bandit is getting the same gentle touches the kids are giving Max.
Wondering why, despite my best efforts, I can't stop wondering about her at all.
Later when I watch the Miller kids scamper off toward the ranch restaurant, I blow out a sigh of relief. Lessons had never been this damn hard.
With Max untacked and brushed down, I should head to the house. Should check in with Dad about tomorrow's schedule or see what Ruthie's making for dinner. Should do anything except what I'm considering.
Yet here I am, closing the stable door behind me and finding myself on the gravel path that leads not to the main house, but to the small cabin office where Hailey has set up shop.
What am I even going to say when I get there? That I've come to retrieve my dog? That I need to check if she found everything she needs for her work?
None of the excuses forming in my mind sound convincing, even to me.
Suddenly uncertain, I slow my approach. I can't see inside from this angle, but knowing she's in there makes something twist inside my gut.
What the hell am I doing?
I should turn around. Go back to the stables or the house or anywhere that isn't here. But instead, I move closer until I'm standing at the side of the cabin, just out of sight of the window.
I'm not spying. I'm just... checking on my dog. Making sure he's not bothering her work. That's all.
"... such a sweet boy," Hailey's voice drifts through the gap. "So much nicer than some people around here."
There's a soft thump—Bandit's tail against the wooden floor, I'd bet—followed by a gentle laugh that catches me off guard. It's nothing like the sharp, defensive sound I've heard from her when she's responding to my barbs. This laugh is warm and unguarded. It’s fucking real.
"You're a good boy, aren't you?" she continues, her voice dropping lower. "Not like your stubborn owner."
I should be offended. Should storm in there and tell her exactly what I think of her assessment. Instead, I stand frozen and inexplicably desperate to hear more of this unfiltered version of Hailey.
