Page 173 of Cautious Love

“Mornin’ coffee is in the pot,” he says.

“Thanks,” I rasp.

I pour myself a cup and come back to the couch. “When did he leave?” I ask him.

Sterling checks his watch. “Probably about two hours ago.”

My stomach drops. Anything could be happening now. They could still be waiting, or he’s fighting for his life, or …

I take a sip of the hot coffee, willing it to scald my insides and my brain of any thoughts other than. He will come home to me.

“If you need something to take the edge off, I brought a bottle of Irish cream. It’s in the fridge.”

“That’s exactly what I need,” I mumble.

Sterling nods and continues watching sports.

When I come back to the sofa, I sit and change my mind, too antsy, so I go to the massive wall of windows and look out at the mountains.

“So you and Ledger,” Sterling says.

I glance at him over my shoulder. “Yep.”

He huffs. “I never thought I’d see the day. That man was married to his job, and helping the ranch whenever they needed. Now he’s married to you.”

“He takes his work seriously,” I mumble.

“It’s not just his work he takes seriously anymore, is it?” Sterling asks.

I turn around to look at him. “What are you trying to say?”

“He loves you more than his work, Shiloh. What he’s done for you is more and beyond what many men would. I’m not trying to warn you away or anything because it seems like you already did that yourself. This conversation is more than overdue, but I guess what I’m trying to say is please take care of my best friend. He’s always been the one taking care of us, making sure we’re happy and safe, and he’s not very good at letting us do that for him.”

“Don’t I know it,” I mumble around the rim of my mug.

He smiles. “He’s loyal like that.”

“I love him, Sterling. I will give him everything I have. Okay?”

He stares at me for a moment before dipping his chin and returning his focus to the TV.

I keep glancing at my phone, hoping and waiting for a phone call. I wish he woke me up before he left. But all I can do is wait and hope.

Chapter 44

Ledger

Bulletsflyandping,and I keep my head down, going behind the truck to check on Beckett.

The Special Response Team moves in towards the barn from where the shots are coming.

Using the truck door to shield me, I get to Beckett, and he’s groaning, struggling to sit up. I don’t see any blood. I check for injuries and find a bullet lodged in his vest.

A rush of relief goes through me. He’ll live, maybe with a broken rib for a bit. I pat his cheek, helping him reorient himself and his eyes refocus on me. “You’ll be alright, come on,” I tell him. There’s no time for codling.

He groans.

“Can you stand?” I ask him.