Page 77 of Wild, Wild Cowboy

Stab. Pull. Stab. Pull. Stab. Pull.

There was something almost hypnotic about embroidery. The satisfyingpingas the needle breached the drum-tight linen. Tugging the thread taut. Doing it over and over again. A single stitch added only a drop of color, but a thousand of them created something beautiful. I didn’t have to think or feel. My brain could be quiet. My heart could be numb. It didn’t matter. The design I created with needle and thread would still be beautiful in the end.

Stab. Pull. Stab. Pull. Stab. Pull.

“Hannah.”

Blinking at the sound of James’s concerned voice, I looked up and found my friends watching me. It was time for our weekly sewing club.

“Oh, you’re all here.” I pushed to my feet and then realized Janie had someone with her. “Who’s this? Does she want to embroider with us?”

“I’m babysitting for my parents. This is Maya.” Janie’s hand dropped to the girl’s shoulder. “Hannah can get you an embroidery project, or you can color or read a book.”

She must be Janie’s little sister. They looked exactly alike, with wavy red hair, brown eyes, and a sprinkle of freckles across their noses. Maya held up her coloring book. “I’m going to color.”

“Okay.” Janie watched Maya grab a floor pillow and take it to the far corner, where she proceeded to dump out a large plastic bag of crayons. Janie heaved a sigh full of rueful affection, plopped into a chair, and pulled out her embroidery project. “I’m not sure I want her to have access to something sharp and pointy anyway, so I brought activities to keep her busy.”

“Good,” Essie said. “Because the conversation we’re about to have is not fit for innocent ears.”

“What conversation is that?” James asked.

Essie smirked. “The one where Hannah tells us how many horses she saved riding Cowboy Zack.”

Hearing Zack’s name spoken out loud instead of being an endless echo inside my head caused me to push the needle too far and jab my own finger with it. “Shoot,” I muttered.

A small bead of blood swelled at the tip of my index finger like a shiny red balloon. I stared at it, remembering the small smear of blood Zack had kissed onto my wrist. He had looked at me like he never wanted to look away. The room turned blurry, and I hastily pushed to my feet.

“I’m going to clean this up in the bathroom,” I said, making a beeline for the door.

Chloe stood. “I’ll come with you.”

She followed me from the room and through the library stacks to the bathroom. By the time I bumped the door open with my hip, I had pulled myself together enough to say, “I’m fine. I’m just going to wash my hands and use a paper towel to stop the bleeding.”

That didn’t stop her from coming in with me. “Sure. But I wanted to talk to you about something.” She hesitated. “Zack.”

I ignored the little zing in my belly and concentrated on washing my hands. Apparently that was just something that happened now. Every time I heard his name, my body jerked to attention. How inconvenient.

“All right,” I said. “What is it?”

“He found me at Jo’s yesterday. He said he made you a promise, and he needed to keep it.” Chloe’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “I just thought you should know.”

“Oh.” I dried my hands on a paper towel while my brain raced. I looked down at my finger. The bleeding had stopped. “Did you…Were you able to help him? Is there someone who?—”

“I think you need to ask Zack that. I’m not his therapist, but I don’t feel comfortable giving you that kind of information without his consent.”

“Right. Of course.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed out of the bathroom with Chloe on my heels.

“Hannah—” Her gaze snagged on something behind me and her eyes narrowed to emerald slits. “No. Absolutely fuckingnot. Get the hell out of here, Steven.”

Stunned by the animosity in her tone, I whipped my head to see who she was talking to. The tall man wearing a tan Stetson looked vaguely familiar, but then again, most cowboys around here did.

The man scowled. “This isn’t the coffee shop, Chloe. You can’t kick me out just because you don’t like me.”

“Well, good news, dipshit. Because I don’t have to. James is here. How about I give Adam a call and let him know you’re in her vicinity?”

His scowl deepened. “I’m here for a book, not for her. I had no idea she was here. I’m not stalking her.”

Chloe arched a brow. “Cool. I’ll just let you explain that to Adam’s fist.”

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