Page 22 of Wishing Hearts

I look at the old rag in his hand. The one smeared with my cum and folded around his used condom.

“Good point,” Sam says, veering off toward our barn.

Our barn. Funny how quickly I started thinking of it that way.

It’s quiet for a moment as we walk, apart from the soft sounds of the farm animals, and then Sam says, “Harrison?”

I huff a laugh. “Yeah, Sam?”

“You got a li’l…” He reaches toward my head, and I stop walking. He does, too, threading his fingers up into the hair along my temple. My eyes flutter closed until Sam pulls his hand away. He brushes his fingers off on his jeans. “Cobweb, I think.”

Heart beating a little too fast, I nod, and we continue on our trek to the barn. Sam heads inside as I walk around to where my hat is still waiting on a fence post. I plop it back on my head, and when I get inside, there’s another man there. One who’s not Sam, but he’s shaking Sam’s hand. Sam, I notice, isn’t holding the rag any longer, so he must have cleaned up.

“Nice to meet you, Sammy,” the other man is saying. He’s young, with a wide smile and a voice devoid of the Southern accent prevalent here. When he catches sight of me entering the barn, his smile shifts a little. “And you must be Harrison.”

“That’s right,” I say, curious about his tone. “You know who I am?”

The younger man scratches the back of his neck, wincing slightly. “I’m one of Will’s partners.”

“One of?” jumps out of my mouth before I can process the implication of what he just said. Will.

“Yeah,” he answers simply. “The name’s Cooper.”

This is Cooper. Doc Hanson’s new veterinary employee. He must be just out of vet school. And, apparently, he’s dating Will. Will, who’s all grown up now. He must be, what…twenty-two?

I shake myself loose. “Nice to meet you, Cooper. Sorry for my rudeness. Was just a little surprised, is all.”

“I get it,” he says, nonplussed. “Jake said I should head over here to help you two out now that the major injuries have been taken care of. What can I do?”

“Well,” I say, sharing a look with Sam. I think our little bubble has just burst. “Let me wash up real quick, and I’ll fill you in.”

Cooper nods, walking over to one of the pens where some of the ewes are, and Sam follows me to the sink.

“Will?” he asks quietly as I wash my hands.

I glance at him sideways. “Wyatt’s son.” At his continued expectant expression, I explain, “My ex.”

Understanding lights Sam’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything on the topic. Instead, he sticks by my side as we rejoin Cooper. And, as I explain what we’ve been dealing with thus far and what else there is left to do, Sam at my side is a constant reminder of what I found today.

For a handful of minutes in a dusty shed in Plum Valley, Texas, I was reminded of the man I used to be. The one I thought I’d lost.

And I don’t know if I can go back to forgetting he ever existed in the first place.

I was right that Sam and I would lose the privacy we’d enjoyed our first few days here. Cooper stayed with us the rest of the afternoon, and now, a day later, Carl is back on our team, too. The four of us have run through the flock of sheep more efficiently than just Sam and me, and there’s no doubt in my mind we’ll be finished by the end of the evening.

The realization sits like a heavy stone in my stomach, and I wish I could say I don’t know why that is, but I’d be lying.

My eyes seek out Sam across the barn. He’s laughing at something Cooper is saying, his brown eyes twinkling and his handsome face bright with joy. It’s infectious, that endless optimism he seems to have. I wish I could bottle it and take it home.

Sam looks my way after a moment, as if he felt me staring. He shoots me a quick smile and a wink before focusing on the sheep he’s helping Cooper with.

He’s so open. So unabashed about conveying whatever it is he’s feeling or thinking in the moment. There’s something sexy about that. About that sort of transparency. It feels good being wanted the way Sam wants me. Seeing it on his face. Hearing it in his voice.

I’m sad that I’ll be giving all that up in just a few short hours.

Sad. What a simple, incomplete word. I feel like Winnie, when she tells me she’s sad about something, and I know there’s so much more she’s feeling that she’s unable to articulate. The word isn’t enough, and yet I know this feeling is about more than just Sam, a man I’ve known for only a matter of days. It’s about the temporary lightness he’s gifted me with. The way I feel warm and a little bit weightless in his presence.

I wish I could hang onto that.

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