It’s a strange feeling to see Emma hand in hand with Victoria as she leads the mare off toward a better life. I’d loved Emma for years. I’d worked alongside her late father before he passed away.

Emma had been understandably distraught after losing him, but she’d shouldered the burden of her duty to the home and the ranch and she’d carried on the treasured, sought after bloodlines her father and his father before that had so carefully cultivated.

But, though I’d loved her, Kieran had shoved his way into her life. He’d tried every dirty trick in the book to get her to sell her treasured family farm so he could build some shitty apartments, I’m sure, so he could slumlord like the douche he is.

But in the end, she’d somehow fallen in love with him.

But now, as I see her walking shoulder to shoulder with Victoria, I realize that clearly she’d never felt the same for me as I’d felt for her. While I’d seen her vulnerable, I’d never seen her nearly as vulnerable as I’d seen Victoria.

In such a short time, it feels like I’ve found a stronger connection with her than I ever expected or had with Emma.

Which is going to make it more painful when she walks out of my life.

I open the truck door to find Jax laying on the passenger seat with his head hanging off the edge so he can touch Sentinel with his nose. Sentinel, meanwhile, is sound asleep, his breathing easy and not at all labored or pained.

Good. It means the dose of pain meds I’d given him this morning were sufficient.

My stomach grumbles and I remember that I’m supposed to do some shopping for the mother in law. I wonder if she’d mind if I left her here while I go. I don’t assume she’ll want to go with, and I do know that Emma will keep her busy if she’s here.

Emma is just like that. She’ll find fun or chores or both to keep her new friend busy. But the look in Victoria’s eyes when we’d opened the truck door when we got here… Damn. She knows something. I’m not an idiot. I’m sure they’re off talking about me. And I know Emma is pushing us together even as Victoria pushes back in her own timid, soft way.

They’re a fascinating pair.

Sentinel wakes and Jax sniffs at him. Then he starts in licking his new friend’s face like he’s taking care of him. “Don’t get too attached,” I say softly, ever reminding myself that they will leave. It’s unlike Jax to pay any attention to other people or animals. Part of his personality is that he’s a very tunnel vision oriented animal.

He sees the task. He does the task. He doesn’t have time for other things, he doesn’t care about other dogs, and he’s generally not one to listen to other people.

But his ears perk every time Victoria speaks.

“Hey.”

I turn, seeing Victoria. But Emma is nowhere to be seen. Victoria reaches past me to pet Sentinel whose tail begins to thump softly. She’s so close to me I can smell her clean hair, her fragrant heat and feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

It’s fucking intoxicating. Every touch is torture at this point. Even her hug, her gentle embrace is leaving my body lost and confused. I want her. I need her. I crave her in a way I’ve never experienced before.

But she’s not mine. And I’m pretty sure she still hates me.

As if she knows I’m curious, she says, “Emma is settling the new mare in.” Her brown eyes meet mine and I know I’m not going to like what comes next. “You could have told me,” she says, her body moving closer to mine as she inches between me and the open door.

“Told you what?” I ask. But I’ve got a pretty good idea what she’s asking me.

And the expression on her face tells me she knows it too. “About you and Emma. About Emma and Kieran.”

The mention of his name is enough to make my whole body tense up. Victoria’s eyes assess me, my stance and posture, and the change before meeting mine again. “Why do you hate him?” she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I’m surprised she got all of that information from my reaction to his name. “He killed my father,” I say, the words burning like bitter acid on my tongue.

“What?” she asks, her face filled with shock.

“Kieran is my brother,” I clarify so it’s less of a shocking bit of information. It’s not like he’s a total stranger who walked in, shot my dad and ran off.

“What happened?” she asks, her eyes slashing back and forth over mine as her whole body stills. The wind kicks up and I smell sweet grasses, horses, and a hint of spring.

I shake my head, feeling that same old burning rage churning in my guts. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I say.

She studies me a moment more, her eyes searching mine as if she’s reading the answer there. Finally, she dips her head in a nod. “Okay,” she says, her tone gentle. “Are you ready to go?” she asks and I feel her concern in every syllable. But it’s not overbearing. She’s not baby talking me. She’s not acting weird, merely understanding and empathetic.

It’s a welcome attitude. Perhaps her struggle and her painful past have made her better equipped to handle these kinds of heartbreak.

“I am,” I say, looking over at the house. Emma has my number. If she needs anything, she knows she can text me. And I don’t want to be here when Kieran gets home from work.

I help Victoria into the truck before walking around to my side.

When I’m in and settled, Victoria opens her mouth as if to speak, but stops. And I hesitate, sensing it’s an important conversation. She peeks at me out of the corner of her eyes, then seems to decide to give it a go, albeit with more than a hint of fear in her voice.

“Do you love her?”