Page 18 of Branded Mine

“I think you found things yesterday that tore you apart.” His voice remained low and controlled but gentler than before. “I didn’t want to take advantage of that, and kissing you… made me feel like I was.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me. I kissed you.”

Ryder held my gaze. “Wasn’t sure you’d feel the same this morning.”

I stepped closer to the front door. “I wish you would have just asked me, but instead, you acted like nothing happened between us.”

We now only stood a few feet apart. “You left after we kissed. You decided I needed space without asking me. You disappeared. That’s what this is about.”

“I didn’t disappear. I was right next door.”

A long silence stretched between us. Kash settled near the porch rail, resting his head on his front paws as if he sensed neither of us would be moving for a while.

Ryder finally looked toward the pasture. “Figured you needed time to decide whether you still wanted anything to do with me.”

“I didn’t need time. I needed you to stay.” I felt my eyes widen as the truth came out before I could stop it.

His gaze came back to mine, dark and steady. “I’m here now.”

I studied him for a moment then let out a quiet breath. “You paid the taxes for years. You kept the ranch from falling apart.”

He didn’t look away. “County would’ve taken the land.”

“So you did it for the ranch?”

“No.” The answer came without hesitation.

“Then why?”

His gaze held mine. “You already know.”

“I think I do,” I said. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Ryder looked away again, but this time there was something different in the movement. It wasn’t avoidance exactly but more like a man trying to find words he had spent most of his life refusing to use.

I needed something to do because the silence felt overwhelming, so I walked over to the porch swing and sat. For a moment, I thought he might stay where he was, but then the wood creaked beneath his weight as he lowered himself beside me. He kept enough distance between us that our bodies didn’t touch, but I felt his presence as strongly as if he had wrapped an arm around me.

The last edge of sunlight disappeared behind the mountains, crickets started chirping in the grass, and somewhere in the distance a horse made an impatient sound.

“I thought you started fixing things after my father died,” I said. “Then I found the tax receipt and realized you’ve been doing it… forever.”

Ryder’s hands rested loosely between his knees. “Should’ve made sure you didn’t see that stuff.”

I turned toward him. “You paid so much money toward a ranch that wasn't yours. I don’t understand.” He remainedsilent, so I pressed, trying to make sense of any of this. “It wasn’t your debt, Ryder.”

“No.”

“Then why?”

He dragged one hand over his jaw, the rough sound of his palm against his scruff filling the quiet. “Because it was yours.”

I stared at his profile, at the slight scar curving from his mouth and the hard line of his jaw. “You didn’t know if I was ever coming back,” I whispered. “Why take that chance?”

“Didn’t matter.”

“You might’ve spent all your money taking care of a place I never wanted to see again.”

His gaze shifted to me. “I know. Didn’t matter.”