Page 154 of Things Left Unsaid

“No. He’d have freaked the hell out,” she mutters, hands settling at my waist as she clings to me in turn. “Much as I did when I read your text message. I was in a conference call with ‘do not disturb’ mode on or I’d have reacted faster. Are they insane? Why would you kill Lydia Armstrong?!”

“The truck was found in the—” The sound of a whinny has me jerking both of us around on the hunt for it. When I see Fen out of his stall, I grit my teeth. “That Harry goddamn Houdini horse! How the hell did he get out this time?”

“Huh?” She peers over my arm when Fen approaches us, calm as can be, nuzzling into our shoulders before nickering proudly. “Oh!”

“How did you get out?” I grumble, rubbing my hand over the bridge of his nose before gently flicking the tip. His nostrils flutter. “Please tell me you didn’t impregnate another mare.”

Zee clears her throat. “He makes a habit of getting loose?”

“He’s the reason one of our older mares, Harriet, is pregnant… I retired her from the breeding stock three years ago. You’re an asshole, Fen.”

“Don’t call him that!” she chides.

“I’ll call him worse if he’s going to be a daddy again.” Because Fen’s like a puppy, I expect him to wander off until I can give him attention—I’ve spoiled him. “Look, Zee, I didn’t hurt Lydia?—”

“Duh.”

“You didn’t have to lie on my behalf. I was only being questioned. It was routine?—”

“I wasn’t going to let them treat you like a criminal!” she grinds out, fire in her eyes. “This way, they won’t. They’ll leave you alone.”

Her strident belief in me, a belief that’s tempered by concern for my family, has guilt riddling through me like worms in a rotten apple.

I didn’t have the same faith in her.

I should have.

I failed her but she showed up for me.

Squeezing her shoulder, I rumble, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she says with a sniff. “You told him about Clyde calling me.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“He asked you about it?”

“He did. How that sergeant’s kept his job is insanity. The fire passed without any arrests when it was arson, Marcy went missing on his watch, and now this! His main suspects are you and the triplets when she died mumbling Clyde’s goddamn name.”

“You don’t have to be scared?—”

Her chin firms and a militant gleam quenches the fire. “I’m not scared anymore. I’m furious. I’m pissed off at our detachment’s incompetence. I’m sick of this, do you hear me?”

I hide a smile. “I hear you.”

“Good. You willnotbe going to prison for a crime you didn’t commit. Understood?”

More amusement filters through me. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Right, now we have that settled, I’ve got some work to do. You need to sort out Fen. I’ll see you at dinner.”

My brows lift at that news, but she steps back and away. I can no more stop myself from snagging a hold of her hand and returning her to my embrace than I can stop the sun from chasing the moon.

It’s too easy to press my lips to hers.

To cup her cheeks.

To tilt her head.

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