Page 27 of July’s Cowboy Dallas

“But that’s what it was.” Her voice shook once before she steadied it. “I told you why I needed to be there. I told you it mattered. And you still chose for both of us.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“No,” she said, and the word cut clean. “You were trying to protect yourself from the way I might look at you if Miller land was involved.”

That landed hard because it was true.

I hadn’t wanted to see suspicion in her eyes. Hadn’t wanted my name, my land, my family to become one more thing she had to fight her way through.

So I’d taken the choice from her and called it protection.

“I know,” I said.

“Do you?” She stepped closer, and I saw the hurt beneath the anger. “Because I’ve spent this whole week fighting my family over that exact thing. Holt deciding what I should know. Roy deciding what I should handle. And you⁠—”

She stopped, and I waited.

“You were supposed to be different,” she finished.

That cut deeper than anything else she could have said. I looked at the bag in my hand, then back at her.

“I know how to be useful to you, Sadie,” I said, my voice low and soft. “I don't know how to be anything else.”

Something in her expression went still, careful, like she was deciding whether to let that land. For a second, I thought she might step closer. Might hear what I was really saying. But she was too hurt to fully absorb it.

“I didn't need useful today,” she said. “I needed honest.”

She looked at the bag, then at me.

“You should have told me.”

Four words. Clean as a cut. And I had no defense for any of them.

She held out her hand. I gave her the bag. Then she turned and walked toward the stock office without another word.

I stood there, my throat tight, watching her go. Even now. Even with her furious and hurt and done with me for the night, I wanted to follow her. Wanted to stand outside that stock office door like the fool I was, just to be near where she was.

I didn't.

For years, I'd known exactly where to stand with Sadie Hollister. My job was to stand next to her. As she walked away, I understood what I'd done.

I'd stepped in front of her after all.

CHAPTER 8

SADIE

Anger would have been easier if Dallas hadn't looked so wrecked when he handed me the bag.

That was the worst part. I wanted to stay furious, and instead some traitorous part of me had wanted to smooth the line between his brows. Even after what he did. While I was still angry about it.

I walked into the stock office and set the plastic bag on the desk with more force than necessary. The contents settled. Evidence that someone had used Miller land without permission. Evidence that tied Roy Pritchard to forged certifications and mismatched brands. Evidence Dallas found without telling me first.

I pulled out my notepad and started documenting. Work was something I understood. Work didn't require me to sort through the mess of what I felt when Dallas said he only knew how to be useful.

I didn't want that to matter. But dammit, it did.

I wrote down each item. Hollister stock tag, number matching pulled certification 47-B. Gate chain, looped wrong. Tire tracks consistent with Hollister trailer weight distribution.