“Welcome to my past life. I just can’t shake it sometimes,” he said.
“Just drink your beer and shut up.”
I continued to work the bar and help with the wait staff until we closed up that night. I went back over all the plumbing and piping one last time before I decided to go home, settling my mind that things were on track for now. I still thought we should do the fundraiser at the Iron Stallion instead of at the house, but if doing it at the house made Cheyenne alright with the fact that I wasn’t canceling, then so be it. If anything, that fundraiser was the only argument I had to get her to stay, and I wasn’t going down without a fight.
I shut everything down and then got in my truck. Michael’s suggestion that someone could come after the restaurant had set me to worrying. Hearing it from a panicked Cheyenne seemed a little insane, but hearing it from my neighbor who was outside the situation was another story. I pulled away, then circled back, and parked at a distance and sat there for a while, waiting to see if I saw any shadows moving. A few squirrels and bats caught my eye, but after sitting for an hour, I took a deep breath and fired up my truck.
As I drove back toward the ranch, I couldn’t get Cheyenne out of my mind. I wanted to try calling her again, but I knew it was well past midnight, and I’d probably wake her up if I did. Part of me wanted to drive by her sanctuary and knock on her door, but part of me knew I was hovering for a variety of reasons.
And none of them had to do with making sure Cheyenne was alright.
I knew she’d be okay. She was strong and independent, and it was one of the things that drew me to her in the first place. Always busy doing something, always busy fixing something, and always busy moving forward with something in her life. She’d be fine wherever she went. That wasn’t why I wanted to go over.
It wasn’t even why I wanted to call.
I wanted to do all these things because I didn’t want her to forget. About how I knew she felt when she was in my arms and how warm and comforting our bodies were to one another. I didn’t want her to forget the night of passion we shared when she finally let down her wall with me. I didn’t want her to forget that I wasn’t the bastard that broke her heart, and I didn’t want her to forget that I was here.
For her. Whenever she needed me.
But instead, I just drove home. I went upstairs and took a hot shower, washing away the terrible day I’d had. I looked out the window to check on the barn one last time, knowing I’d have to pick up the slack around here until Tiffany was on her feet.
Reaching for my alarm clock, I set it for three instead of four, and I fell into bed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cheyenne
I knew I was avoiding Colt, and I hated myself for it. A large part of me missed him. I woke up in my bed the first morning I had been back at the sanctuary and felt this longing ache in the pit of my stomach. I had gotten used to rolling over and having Colt’s strong body there to reassure me I was safe, and getting up that first morning and going to the barn without anyone in the house reminded me why Colt wanted to teach me how to fire a gun.
I suddenly felt naked, exposed to danger, with no weapon I could go grab out of the closet.
Every time the phone rang, I knew who it was. I was contacting people in the surrounding areas about taking the horses I had that needed rehabilitation, but so far only Michael told me he was still taking a horse. All the neighboring farms and sanctuaries in other counties were full, and I didn’t know what I was going to do. I couldn’t pass them off to owners yet; they were still too skittish. But I couldn’t keep them. They were in danger every single second they stayed in my care.
I wouldn’t lose another horse because of the target on my back.
I knew that if I returned to my home, the target would come with me. Colt would no longer be in danger, and his own animals would be safe, which meant the trouble would just come back to my barn. I’d survived a burned down barn, so I knew I could deal with anything else they threw my way.
I wasn’t going to be open much longer anyway, so what was the point of destroying another barn in the process?
I knew I’d made the right decision, even if Colt didn’t think so. I knew he wanted to protect me and keep me close, but right now keeping me close was harming his farm and his family. For all I knew, they’d come after the Iron Stallion, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if someone did. I knew Colt thought I was insane; I saw his eyes as I was backing out of his driveway. But I’d made up my mind. I couldn’t stay around these horses, I couldn’t stay around Colt, and if I wanted any kind of a normal life, I couldn’t stay here.
And that was simply that.
I’d finished taking care of the horses for the day, and I locked the barn down before I came inside. I couldn’t help but eat my dinner on the porch so I could keep an eye on everything, and when I sat my plate off to the side, I started rocking on the porch. I felt my eyelids getting heavy, and I tried to keep myself awake, but eventually, I dozed off.
The sound of tires coming up the gravel driveway shook me awake. Oh, God. The arsonist was back. The truck slowed down when coming around the corner, and I saw someone looking out at the barn. I ran inside and grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter, but when I ran back to the porch, I realized the truck had pulled all the way up to my garage.
And I recognized the truck instantly.
“Whatcha butchering tonight?”
“Colt! Damnit, you s
cared the hell out of me,” I said with a sigh. “I thought you were the arsonist. Why in the world did you slow down by my barn? And what are you doing here so late?”
“I’m sorry I scared you. I slowed down by the barn to make sure no one was out there, and I’m here because I wanted to check up on you. You’re not answering your phone.”
“Well, I’ve been busy,” I said.