Page 113 of Huckleberry Hill
What did it matter, anyway? My father was going to come home and this thing with Declan was going to end.
Declan stifled a yawn.
“You’re tired,” I said.
“Exhausted,” he admitted. “I didn’t really sleep much last night after you left.”
“Same,” I proclaimed.
“Roll over. Let’s go to sleep.”
For once, I didn’t argue. For once, I shoved the questions to the back of my mind. For once, I pretended I was enough, and it didn’t matter why my fiancé had left me.
Declan’s breathing soon evened out, his hold on me tight.
I fell asleep, and dreamt of dark-haired, blue-eyed babies being ripped from my arms only to disappear into the shadows.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Ranch
* * *
I set the basket of newly collected eggs onto the counter. My phone buzzed in the pocket of my overalls, and I pulled it out. I unlocked the screen and saw Wade’s selfie and a thumbs up.
“Nerd,” I muttered with a soft chuckle.
“Who’s a nerd?” Muddy asked as she came into the kitchen. She gestured with her chin to the basket. “Looks like a good haul.”
“Very good haul. We’ve got happy hens. And it’s Wade who I’m calling a nerd,” I replied. I shoved my phone into my pocket. “You and I need to have a wee chat.”
“Do we?” Muddy grinned cheekily.
“Why did you let Declan think I was on a date with Wade?” I demanded.
“I did no such thing,” she protested. “I told him where you were and who you were with. He drew his own conclusions.”
I cocked my head to the side. “And when Declan drove out of here like a bat out of hell? Do you know he came into the bar, picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and brought me back here? Oh, shoot, that reminds me—I need to go get the truck. I left it parked overnight. Can you drive me to the Wagon Wheel?”
“He what? He carried you over his shoulder?” Muddy’s grin was slow and devilish. “I’m loving this more and more.”
“I thought you didn’t want us together!”
“When did I say that?” Muddy demanded. “I never said that.”
“I think you have selective amnesia.”
“I think if you want a ride to the Wagon Wheel you’ll be nice to me.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Can we go now?”
“Sure. But I demand a stop at Sweet Teeth.”
She grabbed her keys and the two of us loaded into the truck. It was newer, black, shiny, with an automatic transmission. Muddy hated it. But Dad insisted she drive it because of all the new safety features. If I stayed, no doubt he’d insist on getting me a new truck too.
“So, tell me how it went last night,” Muddy said.
I’d been staring out the passenger window and swiveled my head to look at her. “I already told you what happened.”
