Page 1 of Hard To Love

August West

Iput my truck intoParkthe moment I pulled up to the dirt driveway my best friend, Sandy Duarte, and I shared. We lived next door to one another, our cabins side by side on the back end of the ranch my family owned. A big tree sat in the front right between our places.

The spot was my own heaven on earth for so many reasons.

But the biggest plus was because my best friend lived next door.

My eyes bounced from one porch to the other, and I smirked at the differences.

Mine was bare—two old oak rocking chairs that most definitely had seen better days sat in the front, a crate I used as a side table between them—while my best friend’s popped with color and life, welcoming you in.

Plants and flowers hung from pots and decorated the deck. Two of the same rocking chairs sat on her porch as well, but where mine were their natural oak color, hers were a mish-mash of colors that shouldn’t have gone well together but somehow made sense.

Sandy was a genius at making things work.

She was fucking fantastic. I was home late as hell, or early, since the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Two of our mares had gone into labor, and I’d been out in the barn with our vet all night since one of them was having trouble delivering.

I watched Sandy step out of her cabin, and a frown covered my face.

My girl was great at almost anything, but she didn’t do mornings. It was rare that she was up and going before nine. Which worked for her since she worked for herself from home.

I hopped out of my truck, about to call out her name before slamming my door shut, when I fully saw her. She looked out toward the fields of grass, and the sun shone onto her face. A sting of pain hit my chest at the sight of her. Sandy’s honeyed eyes were rimmed red, her face full of sorrow. Something inside of me clenched.

I loved Sandy. Sandra Duarte had been my best friend since kindergarten.

Her mom had worked as the housekeeper of the main house, employed by my parents. We’d grown up together. But somewhere around high school, my feelings had changed. From friendliness to something else.

But I had been too scared and too stupid to do anything about it.

Then she’d left for college and came back a year ago with a boyfriend in tow. A guy I could hardly stand. He was a pompous ass. Arrogant and sleazy and so damn lazy I wondered what the hell Sandy saw in him.

I hated she was with him.

I hated the way he talked to her and got to touch and kiss her anytime he wanted.

Didn’t she know she belonged to me?

Fuck! Why the hell had I wasted all that damn time? So many moments I could have told her I loved her. That she was mine.

But I hadn’t.

“Mornin’,” I drawled, but she didn’t look at me.

Sandy just stood there, her eyes pinned on the view in front of her as I walked up her porch and stopped a few feet away. And it worried me. She didn’t move a muscle.

“Mares have the foals?” she asked quietly. I nodded.

“Yeah, honey. Blossom had a little girl, and Cactus Rose had two boys.” She smiled. Her eyes moved to mine for just a moment before they dropped to the ground, and she wiped at her face.

She’d been crying.

Everything in me went from relaxed to hyperaware. This surge of possession took over, and I wanted to know what the hell that douche had done to even make her shed a tear so I could smash his face into pulp.

“You okay, Sandy?” I slowly moved closer and didn’t stop until I stood right next to her. Our arms touched; we were so close as we both looked out as the sun slowly rose, brightening the endless skies.

“He left,” she shared. My eyes narrowed.

“What?” I turned to look at her. Her gaze was still focused on the distance. “Baby, talk to me,” I urged softly. If that asshole boyfriend of hers hurt her, I’d kill him and feed his body to the goddamn pigs.

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