Page 47 of Live for Me

Jigs kept all his recipes scribbled down a cheap note cards or scrap paper in an old, wooden box. He kept it hidden in the bunkhouse kitchen, and then, he locked up in the trunk at the end of his bunk. “That’s…impressive,” I told her honestly.

“He left it out one night on the table. Everyone was outside watching the fireworks for New Years, and I went into the bunkhouse to get warm…” She trailed off, leaving the rest of hang in the air.

I looked down to my almost empty plate, remembering how secretive he used to be.

“And I can’t ask Beau for a taste test because he doesn’t know I have the recipe,” she said softly, laughing a bit at the end.

I closed my eyes, knowing that, in a different life, one where I didn’t have to make the choices I did, Harmony and I would’vebeen friends. The best of friends, actually. We would’ve stolen more of his recipes, making them in secret, trying to perfect every single one. We would’ve had fun doing it too. Hell, we may have even had Denver’s wife roped into our little adventure…

My eyes burned then, my soul craving more than the life I had.

I cleared my throat and looked back up to Harmony. “Breakfast was lovely. Thank you for the food and the nostalgia.”

She could see the tears welling in my eyes, and I didn’t bother trying to hide them. “Of course,” she returned, turning and putting her plate in the sink.

“H-Harmony?” I called out to her back, my nerves suddenly on overdrive.

Her blue eyes met mine as she looked at me over her shoulder. Her brows come together in concern reading me well for someone who barely knew me. “What is it?”

I looked over to the foyer and then back to her, clenching and releasing my hands as anxiety sat heavily on my shoulders, settling in.

Mason’s wife turned to face me then, slowly coming around the island, the diamond on her ring finger glittering in the sunlight. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

She was kind to me.

She didn’t hate me.

She didn’t judge me.

She could help me.

“I need to get to the main gate,” I blurted.

Harmony stopped in her tracks, blinking. “You what?”

“My best friend is going to be here any minute to come get me. He said to meet him at the main gate, but I have no way of getting there without walking through pastures two and one. You and I both know the cowboys will see me and—” I cut myself off, the tears breaking free as my bottom lip trembled. “I can’t—I can’t—Harmony, please.”

She looked gutted, utterly tortured by the sight of me falling apart.

I worried she was going to tell me no, that me being here was the safest option for me.

When she didn’t, my knees nearly gave out, and I had to grab the counter for support.

“Get your things,” she rasped, emotion shining in her eyes.

“Wait—you’re not going to—”

“I’ve been a prisoner before, Abbie,” she said gently, giving me a pained, closed-mouth smile. “I’m not going to stand by and watch someone else be one too.”

Chapter Twelve

Abbie

Harmony said nothing as we climbed into her small SUV, starting it as she hummed a soft tune. The majority of the ride was silent, my bag in the backseat, my boots on my feet. I waschewing on my bottom lip, trying to control me anxiety as I scanned the fields for cowboys.

Last night, Beau never came back to the bunkhouse, and it was just another sign I didn’t belong here. Not anymore. I didn’t know where he went, but one of the twins assured me in passing that Beau knew how to take care of himself.

I didn’t need the reminder.

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