Page 144 of Burn the Wild

We’ve ridden straight into the afternoon. The worst of the storm is behind us, but rain still falls. Thunder still rolls. Through it all, Reese rests in my arms. She faces me, head on my chest, blonde curls blowing in the wind. Never had anything more beautiful. More precious.

My gut knots with every thunderclap. I never should have taken her with me. She’s in a dress as thin as cellophane, and we’re miles from the ranch. The rain cuts my vision, making it hard to see in each direction. I have no idea where the hell we are.

I should stop. But I have to keep going. Keep Reese safe.

“We’ll be okay.” I kiss the top of her head and ride on. “You’ll be okay.”

It’s one thing I’m certain of.

Another—I want more time. More time on the ranch. More time with her. How the fuck is summer halfway over already?

I look down at her gorgeous face.

For her, I’m a cowboy. That man she needs. White horse. Sunset.All of it. Anything she asks for, I’ll give it.

This lying like a dog has got me dog tired. Tired of lying about what we are. I’m getting older, and I want kids, a family,a damn Georgia mansion. Now, when I picture my life, it’s not a nameless, faceless dream girl standing beside me.

It’s Reese.

She’sthe girl in my dreams.

Indescribable. Infuriating. And all fucking mine.

I love her.

For some time now, but I’ve been a damn idiot for refusing to admit it.

I don’t want memories of Reese to follow me around for the rest of my life.

I want her with me. Forever.

But how do I tell her that? That shadow of doubt hovers, whispering that I don’t deserve her. That she’s too good for me. That she’ll leave the ranch and forget all about me. And why wouldn’t she? I haven’t told her what I feel. What she means to me.

My hand shifts on her back, pressing her closer.

I have two options: stay a stubborn coward and let her leave at the end of the summer, or man up and tell her how I feel.

I blow out a breath. Resolve fills me.

My heart hammers like I’ve just pitched a strikeout.

I won’t let her go. I can’t.

I exhale a sigh of relief when I spot a marker designating the outskirts of the ranch. The storm has chased us off course, but I have my bearings now. What should have been a twenty-minute ride has turned into five hours gone.

No doubt the ranch is on high alert. That is, if it’s still in one piece. There’s no service on the two-way radio, and the prairie isstrewn with debris. To the west, the afternoon sky is still pitch-black. Otherwise, it’s blue sky everywhere else.

Reese stirs from her sleep. Yawning, she lifts her head. “What time is it?”

“Four,” I tell her.

She touches my chest. Her green eyes widen. “Ford. You rode all this time?”

I grin down at her. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Blowing out a breath, I tell her, “We’re about twenty miles off course, but we should make it back to the ranch by evening.” I need to see if my family’s okay.

I stop Eephus near a riverbank. Reese and I dismount. As he drinks, I give him a quick once-over. Earlier, I let him rest for a few hours. I hate running him into the ground, but the dark clouds overhead didn’t give me much choice.

Passing Reese the canteen, I watch her while she drinks. Beautiful and rain soaked. There are pieces of straw pressed against her cheek, a scratch on her neck.Her face is tired, but strong.

---