Page 219 of Things Left Unsaid

Once Hilary Browne and Jessica Cardinal stride in, making up the devil’s trifecta of the worst (still-living) bitches in town, I can hear them alternating between dissing meandtattling about the new celebrity who moved into the old Linnox place. A celeb who has yet to show his or her face in town.

Smart man/woman.

It’s with relief that Colt approaches the counter to have the few items he’s purchased bagged up.

When we’re standing there, he stuns us all by rumbling to Andrew, “Everyone’s entitled to their petty squabbles, Andy, and they’re also entitled to a warning—if I see Mary look at my wife as if she’s a piece of dog crap on her shoes again, I’ll be taking my business elsewhere.”

The chatter between the devil’s trifecta immediately stops.

I didn’t realize he’d noticed Mary’s dirty looks, but that he did has my hand settling on his hip so that I can squeeze him there in thanks.

Andrew sputters, “I don’t know what you mean, Colton.”

Still, as happy as I am for his defense, the last thing I want is to feed the fire of their dislike of me. “This isn’t necessary, Colt. We should go?—”

“It’s very necessary,” he disregards, holding me closer. “I’m talking to a business owner about a member of staff?—”

“She’s his wife.”

“She’s an employee in his business,” he corrects. “As a member of the town, I can’t request a shift in her behavior, but as a patron of this establishment, I can make certain demands as, without my business, the store would likely fold…”

Andrew gulps. “I’ll talk to Mary.”

“See that you do,” he rumbles as we walk past the stunned women.

That he even goes so far as to tip his hat to them is just the cherry on top of the sundae.

Still…

“You made that worse!” I muse as we’re walking through the door and onto the street, the corners of the box containing my new boots digging into my calf with every step until he snags the bag in his fist.

“I’m not going to let this continue. I can’t make them like you?—”

“No, seeing as this isn’t kindergarten and you’re not my mom,” I insert.

“No,” he drawls. “But I could be your daddy.”

When his brow arches, I shove his arm. “Shut up.”

Smirking, Colt’s fingers tighten around mine. “I can put weight behind my actions. I choose to stay local. I choose to support the town. But Saskatoon’s ninety minutes away and I can have things delivered to the ranch. If they’re going to treat you poorly, then I can do the same to them. Simple.”

His defense of me feelsgoodbut it doesn’t sit right with me and I’m not sure why.

I’d have done anything when I was sixteen to have his backing, but I’m no longer that girl. I don’t care if the folks of Pigeon Creek dislike me. Their validation isn’t something I need anymore.

My brain screeches to a halt as the decade of self-loathing that’s part of being hated by the town drifts away like it weighed no more than a feather.

It means that as I walk with him, aware of the whispers that once would have brushed my skin like rain dosed with acid, I don’t feel the pain.

Beside me, Colt gets angrier and angrier, but he’s only been dealing with this for a couple hours.

This is normal for me.

Maybe accepting and rejecting it is something I can do because he’s on my side?

Gah, I’ll never understand how my brain works.

“Has that happened before?” Colt demands, tugging me to a halt before I can step toward The Coffee Shop.

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