Impulsion (Station 32 #1)(58)

“She’s not coming back here. Don’t even dare to ask,” Camille said as she turned and walked to the gate. “No more crazy ass girls in that apartment, ever again.”

Wyatt jumped the fence and walked around Danny Boy, running his hand over his back. “I’m thinking he’s not going to be fond of any cars in the near future. When we turn him out, we’ll have to use a middle paddock.”

Harley’s eyes met his for a second. Before this morning, she wasn’t planning on Danny Boy being here long enough even to claim a place to be turned out. As soon as he was able to do that, he should be fit to travel.

Truman had come to the fence.

“What started it this time?” Wyatt asked him.

Truman lifted his shoulder. “She was late for work again the other day. They fired her, and she wanted me to pay her car note.”

“You’ve been with that girl for less than a month. She’s lost two jobs and acted a fool ten times over. Mom is not letting her come back, you know that, right?”

“It is what it is, I guess.”

“You say that now,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “If you don’t slow your roll, you’re going to end up just like Easton. You can only help the ones that want help.”

“That’s what I told her. That’s what made her mad. She started calling me a silver spoon *. I’m done.” Truman glanced in Harley’s direction. “I hope she didn’t say anything disrespectful to you the other day.”

“Not easily offended. What would I have against her?”

“Nothing,” Truman said with a sly grin. “She’s just good friends with Dorcas.”

“And just like her, a born gold digger, always looking for a free ride,” Wyatt said in a tone that was near lethal.

“I said that, too,” Truman said with a wry grin as he waved, then walked away.

“What happened to Easton?” Harley asked.

Wyatt shook his head. “Long, dark road. Tried to help a girl we met on the road, didn’t end so hot in a lot of ways. Changed him for sure. She used to stay with us in that apartment. I think Mom’s had her fill of wild women at this barn.”

“Mr. No Relationship, not-gonna-love-anyone tried to help a girl? Lives with a girl?”

Wyatt’s eyes met hers. “He didn’t love her. You know how we were raised ‘round here. You say what you mean and mean what you say. Help when you can. Fight for what’s yours. Never let it go.”

She had to look away from him. She heard exactly what she wanted to in his words but told herself he was talking about Easton, not them. She couldn’t take this, his shifting moods, falling hard for him one day, moving to get over him the next, only to fall harder right after that.

She would go to that creek tonight because they needed to talk. She wanted to know who he was today. She wanted him to know that under it all, she was still the same girl that was his long ago.

“A lot of aggression for a few weeks,” Harley said just to say something.

She could feel this electric current moving between her and Wyatt, that building power they always had. As casual as he was acting, one second she would think that entire scene in the wash stall was nothing more than a vivid fantasy, the next, when he would let his stare linger a bit longer, brush into her as he passed her by, made her believe that it had not only happened but was liable to happen again at any moment.

“She followed him home from the pub one night. The only way he gets her to leave is by picking a fight with her. Happens every time he gets off shift.”

“Just passion then, huh?” Harley said.

Wyatt looked right at her. “No. Passion is between lovers. All that was is a one-night stand that lasted too many nights.”

Harley moved her attention back to Danny Boy, hoping the flush in her cheeks would fade. “Was Truman living with Dorcas before? Rooming with her up there?”

Wyatt shook his head, nearly smirked. “Truman moved out the day you left. Mom thought I needed space. Dorcas took over while I was gone. When I came back, Easton and me stayed there until he had to go take care of his own and my house was built. Truman has only been back up there for a few months, and if he doesn’t watch out it’s going to be a short stay.”

Her glance shot to him, but he wasn’t looking her way; he was leading Danny Boy back in. “Let’s get you wrapped.”

Where in the hell was he sleeping now? It had to be close enough for him to drive a four-wheeler to it, but this farm was massive. Half of it was on one side of the main street, the other on this side, miles and miles in each direction.

Camille was no easier on Harley that day. Harley not only rode the same horses from the day before, but also helped teach the afternoon classes.

That entire day, Wyatt was no more than fifty yards from her at any given time, but they were never alone. They still seemed to say a million words. He was there when she untacked her horse, his body brushing against hers as he lifted the saddle, their hands grazing against one another as he helped her mount, when they fed the horses, every chance, really. Harley barely said an actual word, and a few times it took Camille saying her name twice to get her attention.

Dinner was the same. She sat next to Wyatt, and not because Ava had pushed her to do so. It was the smallest dinner she had ever had at the Dorans’. Wyatt’s grandparents and parents were still there, but beyond them it was only Wyatt, Truman, and Harley. At times, it seemed more like a business meeting. One side of the business telling the other what kind of day they had. The plans that were laid out to gather the hay they needed. What equipment needed to be serviced or replaced. What students were horse showing, when, and what transportation was needed.