Page 130 of The Mountain Echoes
Pain is plaguing my insides. I can feel a migraine coming, but I’ve already taken pills to keep that at bay. Nothing will stop me from succeeding. I’m going to show Maverick and Celine what I’m made of.
I’m angry and hurt. I feel out of control. So, I do the only thing I can.
I hammer.
“Aria, I think you’ve slammed that nail in real good.”Tomas catches my wrist before I can hit the fresh board again.
We’re reinforcing the trailer gate. One of the slats had worked loose, and the last thing I need is a steerkicking free and bolting in front of a truck on Highway 50.
I blink down at the hammer, my palm aching.
“Yeah. Yeah. Okay,” I mutter, pulling back.
“You seen Wes?” I ask, since I haven’t seen my ranch hand in a while.
Tomas shakes his head. “Not since this morning. Said he was checking perimeter fencing. Didn’t come back for lunch.”
“He better show up sooner than later.”
I head toward the supply crate and start checking everything again, even though I know it’s already been done.
Halters. Grooming brushes. Spare ropes.
I need them to be perfect because I’m unraveling. And, maybe, if the gear’s in order, I can fake it for one more day.
“We got a man missin’, and my head’s not in the game,” I mutter to myself.
“What?” Tomas asks, brows raised.
He can see I’m upset, and since I’m usually calm as a fucking lake, he’s wondering what could have happened.
Well, buddy, all my nightmares came true.
I fell in love…again.
With another fuckin’ liar.
Another man who wants what I have but not me.
Maverick Kincaid is just like Hudson.Just like Celine.Only worse because I let myself believe he was different.
He held Celine. I saw. His hands were on her waist. Shehad hers looped around his neck. They looked real cozy.
Anger flares hot, anew, behind my ribs. “You double-checked the vet supplies?” I ask, too sharply.
Tomas doesn’t flinch. “First aid, vaccination records, boluses, mineral drench. Everything’s road-ready, boss.”
I nod, trying not to break down in front of him. I won’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart. Especially not now. Not the day before Gunnison.
“You okay?” Tomas asks, his concern palpable.
“I’m fine.” I lie so hard it makes my teeth ache.
Tomas doesn’t call me on it. He just tips his head and lets me walk away.
I circle the trailers one last time. There’s a breeze coming down off the mesa, and the sun is lower now, gold bleeding into blue.
We have forty-five head tagged, brushed, and sorted by weight.
