Page 19 of Dallas Rivals

Mrs. Saint-Clair presses a first-aid kit into my hands like I’m the town medic. The cut’s long but not deep—won’t need stitches. So I guess I’m on nurse duty.

“Told you to be careful with that goat,” Lucien says, his voice tired.

“It was Astro,” I mutter. “That dog’s got more anxiety than a Wall Street banker.”

Cala bursts out laughing, and for a second I just… listen. It’s loud and bright, and it makes the cabin feel smaller.

Then I press the cotton soaked in alcohol against her leg, and she yelps.

“Son of—ah, ah, ah! That burns!”

Her hand flies toward the wound, but I catch her wrist before she can touch it.

“I know,” I say quietly. “That’s the point.”

The words slip out lower than I mean them to, and guilt hits right after. I start blowing gently over the wound to cool it.

When I look up, all three of them—Lucien, his wife, Cala—are staring at me like I just sprouted horns. I stop immediately.

“Thanks,” she whispers. First time her voice sounds small.

I stand, adjusting my belt buckle, just to have something to do with my hands.

“You’re welcome, Miss Saint-Clair. Next time—let it go.”

“And miss the show of you chasing a goat across the field? Not for all the gold in the world.”

Her grin is wicked and too damn bright, and I hate how it gets under my skin.

Lucien clears his throat.

“Let us make it up to you, Oliver. Stay for dinner.”

“Oh, no,” I answer fast. “Thanks, but it’s been a long day.”

Lucien’s wife opens the oven, and whatever’s cooking inside sends a wave of scent straight into my face.

It’s rich and warm—too inviting.

“You sure?” Cala asks when she catches the look on my face.

“Yeah, yeah…” I take a few steps back, heading for the door as fast as I can. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Enjoy your dinner?

Where the hell did that come from?

I don’t care about their damn dinner.

I pull the door open faster than a man ought to move and make for the goat—Joan the Mad.

Fine, I’ll admit it fits her. But I’ll never say it out loud and give Cala the satisfaction.

On my way over, something catches the light on the ground. I crouch and pick up a gold and turquoise pendant. I’ve seen it before, around Cala’s neck the day I met her.

Not that I was looking at her chest, exactly. It just stood out. It’s shiny and strange, almost mystical.

Must’ve fallen off during her little goat rodeo.