Page 2 of Apple of My Eye

“Your orchard is something special,” Willow said.

“We have endured a lot.” Ivy reached over and gave Daisy’s hand a squeeze. Daisy only nodded once, her jaw twitching, trying to hold it together.

“Say, do you got any of your mother’s old apple recipes? I’d love to try some out,” Eldon inquired. As our resident cook, food was the answer to everything. His question seemed to bring them all back, breaking the tension, talking about apple dumplings to apple fritters. The noise of the evening rolled right back in like nothing had happened.

Then the conversation among the group turned toward the sheriff election heating up in town,and the upcoming barn dance here on the ranch to support the incumbent Sheriff Patrick.

“We’ll need everyone working that night. It could be bigger than the fall open house we held here last year,” Ash explained. “Chris is throwing money and all his support behind the Sheriff, anything to ensure Trevor Brewster doesn’t get voted in.”

All of us knew the owner of our ranch wasn’t a fan of Congressman Brewster, and that apparently extended to his son, Trevor, too.

At that, Daisy shot up and left the circle. I couldn't unsee what moved through her face at the name. It wasn't grief, exactly. Grief I'd seen from her before. This was more guarded than that a door she shot very fast.

I couldn’t unsee the pain she was hiding, the one advantage I’d gained over the past year, having observed her so often. I was pretty sure I knew her well.

Didn’t make things any easier to watch as she sauntered away from the group over to where a few of the ranch hands were doing shots of tequila. Ivy got up and followed her.

“Daisy’s going to regret that shot in the morning,” I muttered.

Colt slapped my back, following my line of sight. “Are you counting her drinks for a reason?” He asked low enough so that the other two sisters didn’t hear.

“Only observing.”

He let out a slow breath. “You tend to do that when she’s around.”

“We’re all like family here. I’m concerned is all.”

“Right.” He arched a brow. “Only I wouldn’t put on thick cologne like you do for my actual sisters.”

“Shut it,” I clipped.

He smirked, but didn’t push further. Good thing, because the truth was, I noticed everything when it came to Daisy. Always had. From the first day she pulled up in that beat-up farrier rig of hers, handling hoof care for our horses with all the confidence and no-nonsense attitude a Montana woman could possess… to now and the way she carried grief.

It did something to me to see her like this. Made it damn near impossible to leave her alone. So when people started heading out and the night wound down, I saw her slip away toward her truck, unsteady on her feet. Ivy had already left with Colt. Poppy left with Sage.

Daisy almost tripped and face-planted in the prairie grass that grew plentifully on this hilltop overlooking the ranch.

Shit. I was by her side before she could reach her door. “I’ll take those keys, Daisy.”

She looked up, surprised for half a second before that familiar wall she always kept between us snapped back into place.

“I’m fine, Knox.”

“You’re slurring my name a little.”

“It has one syllable. Impossible to slur.” With her hands on her hips, she swayed just enough to prove my point, her jaw tightening like she was furious at herself for it.

“The world spinning?”

She blew out a breath. “A little.”

“Then let me drive you home.” I held out my hand. “I’ll be as safe as can be with precious cargo. Promise.”

She snorted. “Precious what? I’ve never been called that before.”

“You’ve never let me call you anything before.”

She considered me for a long moment, chewing her cheek, then finally pressed her keys into my palm.