Page 37 of Hell or High Water

“Keep her away for another thirty minutes at least,” he told me.

“Will do.”

I ended the call, then lit the cigarette. Her immediate scowl was similar to the last two times she’d seen me smoke. I’d smelled the familiar scent on some of her things. All of her books, in fact. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been around it. If she hadn’t smoked, then her mom or someone in her house had.

“Those aren’t good for you,” she stated.

I smirked. “You worried about my health now, Six?”

Her scowl deepened at the use of her new nickname. “I don’t like to be around it, is all.”

“What? You think the secondhand smoke is gonna get you?” I asked, amused.

Stirring her up was something I’d come to enjoy. I liked it when she was all pissy.

“Yes.”

“Unlikely, but if it does, it won’t be from the few times you’re around me smoking. It’ll be whoever smoked at your house. I carried your boxes. I know that scent.”

She tensed, and her face paled.

What the fuck had I said? She couldn’t seriously be worried about secondhand smoke.

“I know,” she said, almost too soft for me to hear.

I studied her, and when that scared, haunted expression didn’t go away, my chest felt tight. That was odd.

“Listen, I was joking.”

“I wasn’t,” she replied, then took a deep breath and let it out. “My momma. She was the one who smoked. And…and it killed her. She was only thirty-eight. Her mother had died of the same thing for the same reason at forty. She was gone before I was born.” She looked over my head, back toward the field behind me.

Jesus. Fuck. I had known her mom had died of cancer, but with her being so young, I hadn’t expected it was lung cancer.

I took the cigarette from my mouth and held it. “I’m sorry,” I told her.

“Me too.”

Glancing around, I looked for somewhere to put it out and dispose of it. When I needed one from now on, I’d make sure she wasn’t around to see it. Right now, I had nowhere to put it, so I placed it back between my lips and walked over to help her dismount. She was going to be sore tomorrow. I’d let her ride almost an hour after I taught her the basics.

“I’ll help you down. We can come back out in a couple of days, and I’ll teach you to take Jack for a trot.”

Her eyes widened as she held out a hand for me.

“Put your right hand on the horn and stabilize yourself,” I told her.

She looked down at the saddle, trying to remember what that was. I pointed, and she did as told, then turned her eyes back to me.

“Take your right foot out of the stirrup, and then you’re going to swing your leg over his back. Be careful not to hit his ass.”

She nodded, looking nervous, but did as I’d said.

Once she had her leg over, I reached for her waist. “Take your left foot out of the stirrup.”

She hesitated.

“I’ve got you,” I reassured her.

When she finally slipped her foot free, I lowered her to the ground. Reluctantly, I released her. The desire to pull her closer and feel her ass against my cock while inhaling her vanilla-cinnamon scent had been hard to ignore, but I managed.

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