Page 6 of Autumn be His Wife
I can see the questions stacking up behind his eyes, a dozen more poised on his tongue, but he holds them back. His gaze drops to where my shoulders are curving inward, my whole body folding in on itself as I stare into the dregs of my coffee. No amount of sugar can make this taste sweet now.
The silence is thick and heavy, pressing in on us. My knee begins to bounce under the table, a nervous piston. I can’t stand the weight of his unasked questions. If I have to be laid bare, then so does he. It’s only fair.
“Where’s Eli’s mother?” The question cracks the silence, a desperate, clumsy change of subject.
I’ve noticed the absence of a wedding ring on his finger. Not that I was looking. Not exactly. But the question has been prickling at me since I saw them together—a father and son, a perfect unit, with a space where someone else should be.
At my words, Dusty’s brows unknit. His face goes still, then softens, the stern lines smoothing away into something unreadable.
“Lost her when Eli was four.” He finally takes a long sip of his coffee. “Car accident. Drunk driver.”
His words are clipped, and I know not to push for more. I also know I shouldn’t feed into these pesky feelings. Now that I know he’s lost love once, there’s no way he’d want to humor a crush and try again.
Dusty’s eyes drift to the clock on the wall, and he sighs, a soft, weary sound that seems to carry the weight of years. He pushesback from the table, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor in the quiet room.
“Better go wake Eli,” he mutters, not quite looking at me. He pauses at the doorway. “Wear something warm today.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with the bitter dregs of my coffee and the echoing silence.
Good going, Piper.
Curiosity killed the cat, and now I’ve shot myself in the foot. I came here for one man, and all I’ve managed to do is show another exactly why he should keep his distance. I have no one to blame but myself.
3
Dusty
I don’t want to find Julian Adams. The name is a bitter taste on my tongue, a splinter under my skin. I don’t even want to mutter it again. All that does is make him real. It proves he’s existing out there somewhere, a physical form of hope she’s chasing, and that this woman—this skittish, sad-eyed woman—plans on just… giving herself to him.
It doesn’t settle right with me. Nothing about it sits level.
I’ve heard of mail-order brides. Hell, a couple of the ranches I tend have couples that were married on arranged terms. It’s a transaction. A business deal for a fresh start. But this… this feels different. This feels like a leap into the dark without a single star to guide her.
Does she even know what he looks like?
A dangerous, selfish thought whispers in the back of my mind. If she’s willing to tie her life to a stranger… why not astranger she’s already with? One who’s seen the fear in her eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw when she’s trying to be brave?
What if…
No.
The word is a hammer, coming down hard. It wouldn’t be right. It’d be taking advantage of a vulnerability I have no business even noticing.
She’s lost, and my job is to point her toward the road, not block it because some part of me I thought was long dead doesn’t like her destination.
Doesn’t help that I killed the mood talking about Sandra. The words always come out like that—clipped, barren.
Four years now, and the wound has scarred over, but the shape of it is still there, a permanent hollow in my life. Sandra… God, she’d have my hide if she knew I was still using her memory as a shield against living my life to its fullest. She’d tell me to stop being a sentimental fool and get on with it.
She was always more practical than I was.
What would she think if she saw the way I was living? If I’m not tending animals, my focus is solely on Eli.
I wouldn’t say I’m unhappy. Not in the slightest. But…the hole in my chest leaves me feeling lonely.
Piper is turning what I once ignored into something very noticeable.
We’re a pair, the two of us. Both chasing futures built on shaky ground—hers on a stranger’s promise, mine on a ghost’s approval.
