Page 124 of Wrangled

His gaze drifted lower to the bedrolls tucked under my arm, and the bulge in my pocket. “Oh, I see.Thatkind of walk.” His lips twitched.

I was too wound up to smile. “Maybe. That’ll depend on how the conversation goes.”

All trace of humor vanished. “‘Conversation’?”

I nodded. “We need to talk.”

He squared his shoulders, and it was as if he’d been expecting this. “Fine. Let’s go.” I made as if to move, and he held up a hand. “Wait.” He dove inside the tent, and returned with a flashlight.

I had to smile.Gotta love a practical man.Then I took the flashlight from him and fired it up, illuminating our path as I led him away from the camp, closer to the mountain, and out of earshot of the others, my heartbeat racing.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how badly I wanted him to accept my proposal.

Robert

As we walked, I grew aware of all the sounds of life around us—the cicadas, the rustle of… something running—or slithering—over the ground, the call of birds…

“This place is alive,” I murmured. Not that I was paying all that much attention—I was too preoccupied with the upcoming conversation.

What does he want to talk about?

Toby came to a dead stop. “Here. This’ll do.”

I glanced at the dark shapes surrounding us, the deep shadows created by moonlight. “There could be anything out there.”

“Anything?”

“You know… creatures… with teeth… claws… fangs…”

Toby laughed. “We’re not staying long.” He unfurled the bedrolls and laid them on the ground, side by side, then gestured to them. “Let’s sit.”

I got onto the bedroll. “Could we lie down? I want to look at the stars.”

He smiled. “Sounds like a great idea.”

We lay on our backs, staring at the night sky, vast and black over our heads, so many stars they appeared like dust.

“Never seen so many stars,” he murmured. “Not surprising, given the light pollution in San Francisco.”

“When I was fourteen, Dad brought me here on the cattle drive. We spent every night looking at them. He taught me their names, something I’ve never forgotten.”

“You miss him.”

It wasn’t a question.

I sighed. “Yeah, I do. He was all the family I had. My aunts and uncles rarely visited, so it was just him, me, and Diana—and the ranch hands, of course.”

“But they’re your family too.”

I smiled. “Yes, they are.” I gazed at the huge, twinkling canopy above us. “Kinda makes you feel so small, doesn’t it?”

Toby rolled onto his side, his head propped in his hand, and I knew it was time to talk.

“I asked you this once. I guess I need to ask it again. Where do you want this to go?”

I’d thought of little else the past few days. My dad had said owning a ranch meant having to be a realist, something that had stuck with me ever since. “It’s okay. I know everything ends on Saturday. I’m just trying not to think about that.”

Trying—and failing miserably.

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