Page 64 of Love Me Fierce

We crest a shallow saddle. Below, edging the fence we’re following, a pole barn sits stacked with hay bales and a tractor. Beyond it, to the north, a creek meanders through broad prairie flanked by a forest of pine and aspens that slope upwards to bare green foothills.

“This is where we feed out in the winter. It’s a little more sheltered,” Everett says, then points to the long row of fencing that separates the cows from the creek and the forest. “We put in game-friendly fencing a while back for the antelope that migrate through here. I’m surprised we aren’t seeing any today.”

“It’s beautiful.” To think Everett grew up here, with all this wide-open space and stunning mountain views. It’s like a movie set, only it’s real.

“There’s a little lookout up there,” he says, nodding to the knoll on our right. “You can see the whole valley.”

“Can the horses get up there?”

“They could, but maybe you’d like to stretch your legs?”

“Yes please.”

In one motion, he swivels off Smoky and unlashes a coil of rope from the back of his saddle, then clips Smoky to it and ties it off to the fence.

He walks to my left side and gently takes the reins from my hands. “Just like you got on, only in reverse.”

It’s surprisingly easy, except my foot gets a little stuck, making me hop. Everett wraps his arm around my middle to steady me, chuckling a little. “Whoa there. Next time remember to take your foot out on your way down.”

Part of me wishes it didn’t feel so good to have his arm around me like this. The other part is ready for more. “Right,” I manage as a bright heat begins to glow in my belly.

Everett clips Buck like he did with Smoky and ties him to the fence.

My hips are happy to be out of the saddle, and from the way Buck is yanking up the tall grass growing along the fence, he’s content for a break too. We cross the double track to a faint dirt path leading up the side of the hill. The earth is still a little wet from yesterday’s rain, filling my senses with the scents of sage and rich earth as we round the shaded side of the hill.

“Have you done much hiking since you moved here?” he asks.

“I’ve taken Matty on a few short ones. I don’t exactly have the freedom to do go on my own.” The steady climb is making me a little winded, but it feels great to move.

“Life of a single parent.” He steps over a muddy section.

“Toughest job you’ll ever love,” I say.

“Ha!” He smiles back at me. “I think that’s the army.”

“Single parenting is way harder than the army. Way more lovable too.”

“True.”

“Is Logan’s mom in his life at all?”

“Not since he was a baby.”

There are only very few circumstances where one parent gets full custody. “She gave him up?”

“Yep.”

The hurt in that one word makes me wince.

I know what that’s like.

“Teresa didn’t tell me about him until he was six months old.”

“Oh, Everett.” I gape at him. “That’s awful.”

He glances at me, his deep brown eyes steady. Framed by the soft green hillsides and distant mountains, he looks every bit the capable cowboy, but what he’s telling me is a reminder that he’s not immune to being hurt.

This version of him entwining with the demanding cop he was the night of the break in is crumbling my defenses one by one.

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