Page 68 of The Oath We Take

She shakes her head. “I’m riding adrenaline or cortisol or something. If I put my head down now, I might sleep for days.”

“It’s a solid hour’s ride in the dark. The sun’ll be coming up close to when we get there.”

Ember smiles. “I used to think about taking wild rides and camping beneath the stars with you, Atom. The fact it’s happening right now is enough. And there’s no way I could sleep through it. No matter how tired I was.”

I brush my lips over hers. “Love the way you say sweet things to me, Em. But I also happen to really love your face, and if you slide off that horse because of your daydreams, I’m gonna tan your hide.”

Em grins. “You got any cola?”

I tip my head in the direction of the old fridge we keep at the back of the stable. “Help yourself. Take a couple with you, if you like. I have dried stuff, like rice and beans, at the house. We can fish. And I bet the fruit and vegetables I grew have gone wild.”

Lemmy is excited that we’re heading out and rouses immediately. Butterscotch is a classic workhorse and is a little less excited.

When they are loaded, I lift Ember into the saddle.

“I could do that myself,” she says.

“I know. But then I wouldn’t get to touch your ass.”

She smiles down at me, and I don’t care that it’s the middle of the night. It charges me like nothing else could. She’s mine to care for, even if it’s only for the next couple of days.

Normally, I’d be furious at being left behind while my brothers figure out what the fuck happened to her bar.

But right now, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

I take the trail I know by heart. We hug the paddock, then go out by the upper pastures. The silence is utter perfection beyond the whisper of the breeze through the taller grasses. I glance back at Ember, who is looking around as she rides. We’re both wearing headlamps to illuminate the way, and we make better progress than I expected.

It doesn’t take long until I lead the woman I’ve always been in love with to the hidden home I built with her in mind.

21

EMBER

The small log cabin is rustically beautiful. With its rough-sawn timbers and dovetailed corners, it’s like something out of a picture book. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but it’s hovering in that weird in-between stage where the night has gone to bed, but the sun isn’t up yet.

The trek was arduous in the dark, with only the scant light from the headlamps to guide us. Lemmy hugged close to Butterscotch’s tail, which reinforces how tricky the riding was. Because my horse does not like to sit in second place. He likes to lead. But Butterscotch has clearly done this ride many more times than Lemmy, and both of us knew it.

“You can’t see it properly in the dark,” Atom says as he lets the horses into the small paddock to the right of the property. “But there’s a whole meadow out front filled with flowers and grass.”

“A rancher like you with unplowed and unproductive acreage. What is the world coming to?”

Atom chuckles, then bites back a yawn. “Plowed acreage is a job. A vocation. Sitting on the porch with a cold beer, looking at those grasses and flowers sway in the breeze—that’s stress relief.”

“I will never tell your brothers that their favorite enforcer likes wildflowers.” I look to the main cabin and, sitting on the porch are two Adirondack chairs facing down to the river we followed along for a while.

“I like pollinators who happen to like wildflowers. There’s a difference.”

I chuckle at his answer. “How did I not know you had this place?” I ask as Atom begins to unload all our supplies off the horses. He passes them over the rustic fence to me, and I place them next to the gate.

“Because you didn’t need to know.” His answer is simple and straightforward.

“That’s fair.” Maybe it’s tiredness, but my tone slips a little into sadness.

“Hey,” Atom says, appearing in front of me on the other side of the fence.

“No. I’m being silly. I’m tired. And hungry. And?—”

He kisses me tenderly. “I’m sorry.”

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