Page 27 of Strawberry Moon

I—

I wasn’t following them out. Not yet.

When I was alone in the barn, I ran my hand through my hair and took a long, slow breath. All of that sweet peachy goodness filled my lungs, and that wasn’t what I was looking for at all. Last thing I needed was to pine for the guy alone in the shadowy barn.

My wolf might react to Archer, but there was one important issue it didn’t realize—I wasn’t fit to take care of anyone. Almost a decade ago, my wolf had stood proud and tall, ready to care for my mate, our child, my family. I would’ve died to protect them, would’ve done anything they needed and been happy—so fuckinghappy—just to come home to them every night.

The wolf still longed for that connection, but me? Ford, the person? I was damaged goods. No use to anybody outside the farm. I could barely keep my temper in check.

And even on the farm, Barbara had better business sense. Henrik was wise and patient. Ridge was innovative and dedicated. The farm was growing, and they needed me less every day, with every intern that reached out to Ridge to learn how to grow food in their own communities.

Outside, I heard the cars pull over the dirt road. Archer was leaving. Lin taking him away.

And it was time for me to stop thinking so damn hard about people I had no business caring for. It wouldn’t come to anything good. Better to put my mind to the animals. I knew how to take care of them, couldn’t ruin anything too bad, so long as I was gentle and attentive.

They calmed me down. It wasn’t like I was going to go getting pissed off at a bunch of goat kids or ducklings.

The sun was starting to set when Ridge found me crouching by the incubator, turning the chicken eggs again. I smelled him, sensed his gaze on the back of my neck, but as usual, he stood there silent, waiting for me to acknowledge him. I’d never met a guy who could be patient like him, not even Henrik.

I dropped my elbows on my knees for balance and looked up at him, breaking first. “Everything okay?”

His lips twitched, just the left corner pulling up, dimpling his cheek. Most of the time, I forgot he was still a kid. Not when he was smiling that tricky smile though.

“Just figured it was time to hang up our hats for the day,” Ridge said in his thick drawl. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and leaned against the door frame. “And Lex is having dinner with Claud and his parents tonight. Gave me an out, and, well, you know how Claud and Mrs. Mena can get around each other. I took it. Figured we could go out. Give Barbara and Henrik the night off. So I asked Jack if he was free for dinner. We’re going to The Cider House. You in?”

What Ridge and my brother, Jack, had in common was me. Well, and they were closer in age than I was to either one of them. But I didn’t think calm, decent Ridge had gotten tight with Jack since coming to Grovetown.

Jack was a frustrated young beta. He’d sat there for years, stuck in the middle while the Condition ravaged the omegas in our pack, unable to do a damn thing to help.

He’d been there at my side when Lily died. He’d watched her wither away. Watched me fall apart, take to clawing up walls and snarling at everybody. We never had been able to get the wallpaper to stick right after that, and there was no point, when every so often I lost my head again.

He’d seen me lose her. And now, he thought he knew goddamn everything. But he was just an impressionable kid, floating to Skip Chadwick’s side because Chadwick promised him something different. Fighting with me in the parking lot of Isaac’s grocery store because he thought he had any damn idea how I was supposed to go on living my life after losing everything.

But around Ridge, Jack calmed down. I loved my brother, and he loved me. I didn’t want to lose him entirely. So sure, I could use Ridge’s special gift—his ability to keep everybody calm and optimistic—to temper all that seething McKesson rage.

“All right,” I said, pushing to my feet. “Yeah. If you want to grab a cider and a burger, I’m in.”

In my head, my wolf pranced. Jack wasn’t the only guy who might be at The Cider House that it wanted to see, unlikely as it was that a hardworking guy like Archer would camp out in a pub all damn day.

20

Archer

Aheavy glass thumped onto the table in front of me, dropped there by the stoic alpha barwoman, Talin. Unlike the sodas I’d been sucking down half the afternoon, this looked distinctly alcoholic, and smelled vaguely of apples.

She gave me a nod, lips pulled into a tiny almost smile and brows lifted ever so slightly. Her scent permeated the bar—I thought maybe she owned the place—and just now there was a broad middle note in it, something that reminded me of sunny days and warm grass.

In an instant, it was as though she’d come into full focus, and I understood. She was pleased. She thought I’d done well, and that somehow, my win was her win.

Pack, the squirming mess of instinct in my chest insisted.

“You handled that pompous ass like a pro,” she told me with a nod. “Well done.”

The sugary sweetness that was my own stink got even louder, sweeter, for a moment as I was filled with warmth. She approved of me. I’d done well.

She smiled back and gave me a wink as she sauntered back over to the bar.

Had I called her stoic? Thought her stoic? How had I missed the body language, tight little expressions, and scent of—

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