Page 87 of Westin

God, I’d do anything to keep her from feeling like this ever again.

This isn’t just about land or a family cemetery for her. This is her last lifeline to the woman who raised her, and she’s clinging to it with both hands.

I know her heart aches, but if she wants her farm, she has to trust me.

“Darling,” I say, weaving my fingers through hers. “I swear to God, I will not kill the Garrison brothers. Your farm will be safe.”

Her chin trembles, and she inhales sharply, blinking back tears. She’s distraught enough that she clearly didn’t catch the only thing I promised was that I, personally, wouldn’t kill Thomas and Avery.

“Really?” she whispers.

I kiss her hands. “Really.”

She sniffs, her shoulders easing. I feel guilty for twisting the truth, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m going to do whatever it takes to get her through this alive.

The Garrisons will end up six feet under. Carter Farms will go to her; I’ll make sure it’s her name on the deed if it’s the last thing I do.

Maybe I’m a bastard, but I’m the bastard she’s got. I won’t kill the Garrison brothers. I’ll keep my promise in a technical sense.

Sovereign will pull the trigger.

It’s his blood to spill, not mine.

All I can do is make sure he does it soon. Her arms slip around my neck. She kisses my mouth, and I feel her fingers on my upper back, tracing the raised brand.

“Take me home, gunslinger,” she whispers.

That word has always haunted me, but from her lips, it tastes like sweet, whiskey-laced tea. So, I do as she asks, and I watch her while she puts her clothes on. We drive through the darkness, and I walk her up the hill to the empty house.

When I return, I take Rocky from the barn and ride out into the dark. At the crest of the hill, I dismount and let him graze nearby in the moonlight. Far away, I see the light from her barn glitter.

I stay up watching it all night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

DIANE

Even though I was confident, it’s still a relief when my period comes. The day it makes an appearance, I see him, standing at a gas station talking to a group of men. While Thomas fills the truck, I duck inside to grab him a case of beer.

Westin walks up behind me, scanning the fridge.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says. “I’m just going to get that case behind you.”

I step aside, and he leans over to grab an eight-pack.

“Are you in the clear?” he says, lips barely moving.

I know what he’s talking about. I keep my head down, pretending to fuss with my purse.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I just got my period.”

He pushes the fridge door shut, tipping his hat like he doesn’t know me, and disappears. I’m dying to follow him out, just to see him give me that look. The one that makes my knees weak.

But I just go pay for the beer, like I don’t know him either. My stomach is sick because I know this can’t go on for much longer.

I’ve felt the storm rolling up over the hills for years now.

It’s coming sooner than I think.

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