Page 145 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys
The thought shamed me even as it took root, growing stronger with each passing second. I had no right to hope for her to stay, not when she'd been brought here against her will, not when every moment here reminded her of that violation. And yet, I couldn't stop myself from wanting it, from silently pleading with whatever forces governed the universe to give me this one thing, this one person.
Ghost whinnied softly, butting her head against Nelly's hand, demanding more attention. Nelly obliged, her movements becoming more confident as she scratched behind the horse's ears the way I had earlier.
In that moment, despite every lesson I'd learned about the importance of free will and choice, I wanted to keep her. No matter what. I’d doanythingto make her stay.
The selfishness of the thought should have horrified me. Instead, it settled alongside the hope, twin inhabitants of my heart that I suspected would only grow stronger with time. I would have to fight against that selfish desire, would have to remember that her happiness mattered more than mine, that her freedom was not something I had any right to compromise.
I knew the fight would be the hardest of my life. Because somewhere between her stepping off that plane barely forty-eight hours ago and this moment, Nelly Shaw had become essential to me in a way I hadn't believed possible again.
How do you let go of something essential?
How do you abandon oxygen or water or food?
You don’t.
33
LEVI
Three days later…
No response from Eros.
The numbers swam before my eyes, columns of expenses and income blurring together like watercolors left in the rain. I'd been staring at the same ledger for over an hour, my coffee gone cold beside me, the lamp casting long shadows across the cramped office. Outside, the ranch had settled into nighttime quiet hours ago—everyone asleep except for me and my restless thoughts. The pencil in my hand tapped an irregular rhythm against the desk, matching the erratic pattern of my concentration.
Focus, Levi. The ranch needs you to focus.
But my mind refused to obey, drifting like a boat cut loose from its mooring. The figures that normally anchored me—neat rows of digits that told the story of our livelihood—couldn't compete with the memory of copper hair catching sunlight, of hesitant steps across our property, of a woman who'd crashed into our lives against her will making the best of a shit situation.
Nelly. Even her name in my thoughts sent a ripple through me.
Had it really only been five days going on six since she arrived?
"I'm giving you a chance, but I'm still leaving when Eros responds,”she’d claimed at lunch the other day, making my gut clench. I’d barely been able to eat after that.
And, since then, I’d had trouble sleeping at night. So, I was just piling caffeine into my system and hoping for a heart attack.
I rubbed my eyes, forcing my attention back to the quarterly expenses. The cattle feed costs were higher than projected. Veterinary expenses from the calving season had hit us hard. The new tractor parts?—
My mind slipped sideways again.
The sky rioting with color and Nelly standing at the edge of the east pasture, arms wrapped around herself against the evening’s chill as she watched the sun dip below Wyoming mountains. I’d been on my way back from inventorying our supply of calf milk replacer—the two babies on the bottle were going through it fast—and I’d seen her. I could have kept walking, I didn’t have to disturb her, but I couldn’t stop myself.
She’d startled when she heard me approaching, but she didn’t leave.
“I didn’t realize how many stars there were,” she said, not looking at me. “In the city, you can only see the brightest ones.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there like an idiot. Her profile was blurring in the fading light, her expression unreadable.
"It is beautiful here," she admitted, words coming slow, as if against her will. “Not sure I could live so far from a mall, but great for a vacation.
What she said stung. She couldn’t imagine living here. We couldn’t exactly snap our fingers and bring the city onto Sagebrush land.
“You get used to it,” I offered, “Eventually the peace and quiet grows on you.”
“I feel like constant peace and quiet would get boring eventually.”
More stinging, her words were hornets.
