Page 15 of Reuniting with the Rancher

“My contract also states unfavorable working relationships and this…”

“Is workable,” he stated flatly. “We are both adults, with a child together. Finish your contract and that frees us both up to focus on the kids and our students.”

She noticed he said kids, and she appreciated him thinking of Caleb.

Grrr…

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and Ivy’s face popped up, making a duck face. Her heart stopped. Six more photos came in rapid succession as Greyson walked into the night.

“This discussion is not over,” she whispered to his back.

The next day,the late afternoon sun was dipping behind the hills, casting a beautiful glow over the ranch. Dust swirled around Lily and Greyson as they stared at the half-assembled swinging bench before them. A late arrival, the bench was the perfect addition among the flowers off the back porch and she couldn’t wait to see it set up. She could see students gathering there, bonding over music.

The men from Silver Creek had already left. They were nice and hardworking. Cashea was hilarious, and she’d truly enjoyed their company. Cashea made her promise to come out to the local bar - the Hen House on Fridays for a good time.

Going out always carried a risk of being recognized, but she figured the chances were small. It was times like this she was happy her alter ego, LaLa Fair, was such a different person and personality than Lily. And with her voice trashed…LaLa was fading further from her real life. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“Okay,” Lily said, planting her hands on her hips. “We lift on three. I’ll balance it with my good leg, and you... well, you just don’t drop it.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

They both bent down to lift the large wooden beam. Lily gritted her teeth against the pain in her leg while Greyson struggled with the stiffness in his left arm. As they tried to maneuver the heavy piece into place, his grip faltered.

The bench slipped from his hands and landed in the dirt with a loud thud. Before either of them could react, the weight of the beam shifted, tipping sideways and sending a wave of muddy water from a nearby puddle splashing all over both of them.

For a moment, they stood there in stunned silence, mud dripping down their faces and clothes.

Then Lily snorted.

She tried to hold it in, but what was the point? She shook with giggles.

“You’re laughing?” Greyson asked, wiping mud off his face with an annoyed swipe of his hand.

Lily doubled over, gasping for breath between laughs. “I’m sorry... but that?Thatwas funny!”

Greyson’s mouth twitched, and despite himself, he let out a small chuckle.

She shook her head, still grinning. “I think the bench wins. I give up.”

As her laughter died down, she noticed the hard set of Greyson’s jaw. He rubbed at his left arm, his frustration evident. “It’s my fault,” he muttered. “I still feel like half the man?—”

“Stop.” Lily cut him off, her voice soft but firm. “You’re not half of anything. This ranch is a lot of work for anyone, that bench is heavy as hell, and we’re both a little, well, a lot banged up. That doesn’t make you any less.”

Greyson glanced away, jaw tight. “You don’t know what it’s like. Every day it’s a reminder that I’ll never be the man I used to be.”

Lily’s smile faded, replaced by a quiet empathy. She gently touched his arm and led him to the back porch steps. He heldher hand as she lowered herself onto the step, then he sat down roughly. “Idoknow. So, IED?” she asked gently.

For a moment, he said nothing, staring out at the horizon as the memories washed over him. “The explosion took out half the convoy, and the rest of us... were trapped. There was fuel everywhere and the whole thing just went up in flames.”

He paused, his dark brown eyes growing distant as he relived the nightmare. “We managed to pull a few guys out... Not everyone could be saved… The fire spread so fast, and I got caught in it. Burns covered half my body by the time they got me out.”

Lily’s heart ached at the pain in his voice. She reached out, hesitating for just a moment before placing her hand lightly on his good arm. “I’m so sorry, Greyson.”

He studied her. “I’ve been through therapy; done everything I’m supposed to. But it doesn’t change the fact that this,”—he gestured to the burns on his arm and chest and down to his unseen legs—“is who I am now. And no amount of ranch work or pretending otherwise is going to change that.”

Lily sat quietly beside him, the mud drying on them as she absorbed his words. “You’re not defined by your scars,” she said softly. “You’re still here. Still fighting. And that counts for something.”

Greyson huffed a short, humorless laugh. “You sound like my therapist.”

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