Page 20 of Savage Heart

I focus on Maverick next and swallow hard.

“Maverick, today we talked. You negotiated with me, and for some reason, it reminded me of that summer before our senior year of high school, when Lincoln spent the summer with his cousins in Idaho . . . and we spent every day together, riding Lucky and Lady. You’d negotiate me staying just a little longer.”

I run my thumb over his cheek.

“‘Just ten more minutes,’ you’d say. ‘If you stay ten more minutes, I can get Grady to drive us to your place, and we can hang out longer.’”

I lean my head back and set the picture down. My eyes close, and another tear falls.

I can’t think about that anymore. It’s best for our history to stay buried forever.

Chapter 5: Cracking

Maverick

My alarm goes off at 4:45 a.m., but I’m already awake.

When I walk into the kitchen of the big house, it’s quiet, but I can tell Mom has already been in here. The coffee is brewed, and I pour some in a large thermos. A large pile of foil-wrapped sausage-and-egg biscuits is prepared so we can take them to go if we want. I open one up and toss three more in a bag. Dinner is a leisurely affair around here, but breakfast and lunch are usually on the go, so we can sleep as long as possible and get done as early as we can.

The end of May is mud season in Wyoming, and I’m glad I wore layers because it’s a chilly morning. Out of habit, I do a head count of the horses while I eat. There’s no reason to think any would be unaccounted for, but you never know.

At 5:15 a.m., tires crunch along the gravel, and it’s Iris and Linc. I should’ve known she’d arrive now—early is “on time” for Iris. We used to show up somewhere fifteen minutes early, and Lincoln would be running ten minutes late.

Her car has seen better days. She’s had it forever, and from the looks of it, I don’t know that it’s going to last much longer.

The engine shuts off. The driver’s door opens.

I don’t move.

Iris climbs out slowly, like she’s preparing for impact, and her eyes sweep the area before they land on me. She’s wearing faded jeans, a baggy sweater, and cowboy boots that have only gotten better with time. Her wavy blond hair is a little shorter than it used to be.

When I see her, I’m hit with contradiction.

I know her, but she’s a stranger to me.

She’s still beautiful, even more so than when we were kids. She’s always had a sadness in her eyes, but it’s deeper now. Haunted. The same full mouth. But now there’s a hard shell like she’s trying not to feel anything at all.

My jaw locks before my brain even catches up.

I give her nothing. Not even a hello. She doesn’t deserve anything from me.

But then the passenger door flies open, and Linc bursts out like a firecracker.

He slams the door behind him, backpack bouncing, boots hitting the gravel in a half run. His grin is so damn big it could power the whole ranch. One second, I think he looks just like Lincoln, and the next, I see Iris. Lincoln’s sandy-colored hair, Iris’s amber eyes, with freckles and a huge grin that are entirely his own.

“Hey, Mr. Maverick!” he shouts.

I smile. A real one.

“Hey, Linc. Welcome back to Harrington Ranch.”

He jogs toward me, eyes wide as he takes in the barns, the horses in the paddocks, the tractors lined up. He bounces on his toes, thrumming with energy.

I’m slammed with emotions every time I see him. Different than it is with Iris but equally distressing. I swallow the lump forming in my throat before it becomes something worse.

It doesn’t surprise me that I like him. It’s like stepping back in time and seeing my best friend all over again.

What’s surprising is how much he seems to like me.