“I told Randy you may need a hand.”

“No, I don’t,” I said absently, sensing the reason why he’d mentioned Randy needing to be nearby in case this went south. “Pete isn’t going to come at me with a gun, Grant, okay? The most he’s going to do is try to intimate me, maybe get in my face a little. I’ve been in enough fights in my life to know how to shut one down.” I also had plenty of experience dragging Pete out of fights to know his style if it came down to it. He was scrappy and strong, but I had some weight and force on him.

I bit back what I wanted to say next—That if he swung, I’d let him. I’d take a beating just to prove to him that his opinion, his anger, had no sway in what was happening between Keely and me. His actions would reflect on him.

I wouldn’t hurt my friend unless he gave me a reason to… But if he said anything about Keely—her character, or her decisions?

I’d kill him, plain and simple.

I looked up through the downpour to see Keely creeping through the back door, her face flushed and stormy. I heaved a breath and raised my hand, silently ordering her to stop where she was.

“Everything is okay,” I said to the best of my ability. “Go back inside, honey. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Keely glanced at Grant then back to me. The column of her throat worked as she swallowed. She nodded, her eyes creasing as a soft, pained smile touched her lips. It was enough to snap whatever resolve I had. Those words he’d said had hurt her more than my reluctance about the situation ever could. To imply that Keely, who didn’t have a malicious bone in her entire body, was going after me because of Pete? To say that Keely, who was nothing but loving, and kind, had somehow ruined Pete’s life and taken everything he wanted to keep for himself from him?

I’d known what he meant. It had been clear in his voice. It had stung, badly.

He may as well had just said that Keely being born was a mistake and it ruined his parents’ reputations forever, and it was her fault.

None of that was the truth.

“Keely, look at me,” I said sternly over the pounding rain. Keely did, her eyes shining and rimmed with red. Fuck, she’d been crying. God, I could kill Pete right now. “Everything is fine.”

“Okay,” she said, damn near choking on the word.

“He was wrong for what he said,” I continued. Grant nodded in agreement. “Keely, I got you, all right? We’re fine.”

“I know,” she said so sadly it caused whatever thread holding my resolve together to snap completely and all I could see, feel, and think was red. “I’ll see you later.”

“You will,” I agreed, then turned my attention back to Grant as Keely disappeared back into the house, the door shutting behind her. “Keep her out of this, Grant.”

He nodded, but said, “You’re sure you can handle this? Getting between the Greenway siblings?”

“Keely is worth it,” I answered, then turned and walked toward the stables.

* * *

It was getting dark by the time I started back toward the big house for supper. I’d worn myself down significantly over the course of the day. Working myself to the bone was the only thing that was going help ease the fiery tension and fury tightening every goddamn muscle in my body.

I was looking forward to sitting down and eating what meal Keely made. I was looking forward to roping my arm around her shoulder and knowing she was close by. I was looking forward to taking her back to my house tonight and watching that movie she’d been pestering me about for the past few days that I’d finally given in and rented—something about people in the 1800s. What had she called it?Senseand Sensibility? Reading the description was enough to put me to sleep, but my girl wanted to watch it and I was willing to give her anything she wanted right now.

But I halted my progress when I passed the bunkhouse. Someone’s voice was raised inside, spitting curses. I narrowed my eyes as Pete’s harsh shout lifted in the air and I ran for the door, throwing it open so hard it bounced against the wall and nearly broke off its hinges.

Randy was standing with his arms crossed in the snug kitchen, his back against the old yellow refrigerator as he glowered at Pete, who was practically foaming at the mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I spat, striding into the bunkhouse. I didn’t glance around, but it was too damn quiet for any of the younger men to be in here right now. “Randy, get out.”

“You sure, Boss?”

“Yeah,” I replied, blood hammering through my veins. I didn’t hear Randy retreat as I said with enough force to send a tremble across the floorboards, “Pete, what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, you fucking bastard!”

“I wouldn’t be in the bunkhouse, idiot. You know that—”

He took two quick steps toward me, fists clenched.

“Randy stopped me from driving over there. Said you were still out in the fields working, so I thought I’d wait. He didn’t like that so much.”