Page 69 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

TWENTY-TWO

SILAS

I’d had a visceral reaction to seeing Way injured. When he’d come riding in, holding his arm against his front and sagging in the saddle, jagged black rings had narrowed my vision, and my head had taken on a distant, staticky quality.

I’d tried to hide my shaking hands as I’d undressed him for the shower, tensing more and more with every injury uncovered. Seeing the strong cowboy so vulnerable had made me angry because there was little I could do to make it better, to ease his pain. It had also scared the fuck out of me. What if he’d been trampled? What if he’d hit his head on a rock or tree?

As I made my way back to the barn after leaving him in bed, I felt a sick churning in my stomach. Seeing Dev’s familiar face helped calm me down, but then I noticed the tight clench of Sheridan’s jaw and the nervous blinks ZuZu shot in my direction. If Way’s own sisters were worried, with all of their ranching experience, it meant this wasn’t common.

After assuring everyone he was safely tucked up in bed, we jumped right back into the work of moving horses. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement to get through it as quickly as possible, which must have contributed to the smooth teamwork for the rest of the afternoon.

I had to remind myself that with the prescription pain meds on board, Way would most likely sleep the rest of the day. I’d left a water bottle and radio within reach in case he woke up, but I knew all he would want was to know his work had been completed and done well.

It was almost fully dark by the time the final horse trailer pulled away. Sheridan and ZuZu took off immediately in the direction of Way’s little house while Dev, Taza, and I stayed back to settle the remaining horses for the night and close up the barn.

I’d felt Dev’s eyes on me all afternoon, and I’d hoped to hell he didn’t say out loud what he was thinking.

My hopes were in vain.

When I was finally able to head out to my vehicle, Dev followed me. “He’s not Justin.”

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “I know that.”

“You’re allowed to like him. You’re allowed to more-than-like him.”

“It’s not like that. I’m not looking for a relationship.”

His eyes stayed on mine as Taza exited the barn and walked past to his truck, calling out a goodnight. Once he’d driven off, Dev took a breath.

“Silas. Waylon Fletcher is a good man. I’ve been here forty-eight hours, and already I know that with my whole self.”

“Agreed,” I bit out. “Your point? You looking for a boyfriend? Because Taza?—”

Instead of getting angry, my serious friend laughed. “I know all about Taza. He’s a baby. And, no. I’m not looking for a boyfriend. But if one fell onto my damned ring finger and turned out to be as solid and here for it as Way was… well, I’m not sure I’d be able to ignore such a strong sign.”

“He’s not here for it,” I corrected. “He’s in love with his childhood sweetheart.” Or he didn’t know if he was, which was close enough to the same thing.

Dev’s forehead crinkled. “You sure about that? Because I see the way he is with you. Besides, Sheridan mentioned Eden and said she was glad they didn’t end up together after all. She said she’s never seen him the way he is with you and that he was never like that with Eden.”

I hated the little spike of a thrill that gave me. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m going to move out here and become a rancher. My life is back in the city. I love my work.”

Dev’s smile returned. “And thank god for that since money is so tight. How would you even begin to balance your consulting workload with spending time with the man you love?”

“I don’t love Waylon Fletcher!” I hissed. For some reason, it sounded more wishful thinking than actual fact.

“You sure seem intent on pretending you don’t,” he agreed. “Why, Silas? You that eager to be alone forever?”

I glared at him. “Devon, if I had a mirror, I’d hold it up to your face right now.”

“Deflecting now, are we?” He sighed. “I admit, after everything with my brother, it’s been easier to spend time with horses than people. But again—and this is a pretty fucking important distinction, Silas—I am not the one who got drunk and tripped into marriage with a hot cowboy who also happens to be a good guy. Just give it a chance, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t reject this opportunity because Justin fucking Hardy made you doubt yourself. Don’t let that asshole steal something else from you.”

For the first time in a long time, mention of Justin didn’t make my gut tighten and my anger spike. My ex was simply a pathetic human being. A user who would never have a happy and fulfilled life. Maybe that was punishment enough for his behavior.

As I drove back to the house, I had to admit I did want a happy life. I wanted companionship and love. But it would take a long time for me to learn to trust someone.

You trust Way.

Maybe. Maybe I wanted to trust Way. But I knew I could no longer trust my own damned judgment.

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