Page 17 of Huckleberry Hill (Saddles & Spurs #1)

Chapter Sixteen

The Ranch

My face was smushed into the pillow when I cracked an eye open.

“Morning, sunshine,” Muddy greeted from the chair in the corner of my bedroom. She was crocheting, but she looked up from her needle.

“What time is it?” I asked, still refusing to move.

“A little after eight. Thought I’d let you sleep in, what with your late night out. Or early morning.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up so we can talk.”

“Talk.” I closed my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Declan texted Connor early this morning about the foal’s birth,” she said. “He said you helped him.”

“Yeah,” I said carefully. “I woke up last night and had a feeling Mirabelle was going to go into labor. I went to the barn and sure enough, she was antsy.”

“And the birth went fine. No complications?”

“None.” I frowned and finally sat up. “Where’s Dad?”

“With Dr. Swanson. She came out to check out Mirabelle and the foal.”

“Oh, good.” I cocked my head to the side. “Is that all?”

“Do you think I’d be sitting in your bedroom waiting for you to wake up if that’s all it was?”

“I’m really tired. So can you please?—”

“I won’t lie for you,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“To your father. I won’t lie to him about what you and Declan are doing.”

“Declan and I aren’t doing anything.”

“ Hadley .”

“ Muddy ,” I replied.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Okay? What do you want me to say?” I demanded. “So you won’t lie for me. I never asked you to. And what about Dad?”

“What about him?”

“You’re lying for him, aren’t you?” I asked. “Since when does Dad stay out late at night, or come home during the early morning hours smelling like perfume?”

“Your father’s business is his business.”

“And my business is my business.”

She shook her head. “No, your business is your father’s business—especially if one of his ranch hands is putting his hands all over you.”

“I thought you were for it.”

“I am.” She shrugged. “You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences to those choices.”

“I’m a little old to be getting this kind of lecture, don’t you think?”

“You’re never too old.” She leaned back in her chair. “What you two are doing isn’t as simple as knocking boots. He works for your father. And you just broke off an engagement.”

“I’m aware of all those things,” I said. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You don’t do casual,” she said softly. “And I don’t want you to get hurt . . . again.”

My anger softened. “I know.”

“And you know how cowboys are.”

I raised my brows. “Your son is a cowboy.”

“And he married your mother four months after meeting her,” she said with a smile. “Powells are built differently.”

“Yes, we are,” I agreed.

Muddy gathered her crochet project and rose. “I’ve said my piece. You’re an adult and you’re going to make your own decisions.”

“That sounds like you don’t trust me to make good ones,” I remarked flatly.

“Take it however it sounds.” She shrugged. “Word of advice?”

“If I say I don’t want it, will you tell me anyway?”

“Sassy Sasserson,” she said with a chuckle. “If you’re going to be sneaking around with Declan, don’t do it in town. There’s no sneaking around in a small town. Someone’s bound to see you and tell your father.”

I sighed but reluctantly nodded.

Muddy left the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

I continued to sit on the end of my bed, weighing the words she’d spoken. What was I doing? I’d snuck into the house like a teenager not wanting to get caught after curfew.

Exhausted and rethinking everything from last night, I pulled myself up and trod to the bathroom. I stood in the shower, letting the water remove the scent of him from my skin.

I closed my eyes, remembering the pleasure I’d shared with Declan. It was hard to have any sort of regret over it.

But would I do it again? That was asking for trouble.

If you had to sneak around to do something, didn’t that make it wrong?

I groaned in frustration.

Why couldn’t I be like Salem? Salem, who asked for forgiveness and not permission. Salem, who didn’t do regrets. Salem, who’d somehow broken free of the box society tried to dictate for her.

But here I was, twenty-three years old, worried that my father would be disappointed in me if he found out I broke one of his rules.

I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around me.

My phone was lighting up when I walked back into the bedroom. It was still on silent.

When I saw it was Wade calling, I silenced it and let it roll to voicemail. I felt bad. I hadn’t been firm enough with my boundaries.

I gritted my teeth in frustration.

While I got dressed, I practiced saying no.

As I sat on the edge of the bed and I was pulling on a pair of clean socks, there was a knock on the door.

“No!” I called out.

“Hadley? You okay?” Dad asked.

I took a deep breath and called back, “Sorry, yes, come in.”

He opened the door, his brow furrowed. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “I was thinking about something. What’s up?”

“I just checked on Mirabelle and the foal. They’re both doing great.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“The birth went okay, then?” Dad studied me.

“The birth went fine. Declan did an amazing job. He has a good bedside manner.”

“He does.” Dad scratched his jaw. “He told me you went back to his cabin to get cleaned up?”

I nodded. “I didn’t want to wake you by coming in late and showering. I know you’re a light sleeper.”

His expression cleared. “Thoughtful.”

“That’s me. The thoughtful one.” I rubbed the side of my head.

“You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. Just tired. I only got a few hours of sleep.”

“You do look a little wrecked.”

“Thanks,” I said with a laugh. “Did you just come in here to tell me I look like a car ran over me?”

“No that’s not why I came up here. I’m heading out of town tomorrow for the livestock auction in Three Forks.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “I didn’t realize that was happening . . . but that makes sense. It’s that time of year isn’t it? So you want me to ride shotgun with you?”

“What?”

“Ride shotgun,” I repeated. “I always go with you to the stock shows, Daddy. Now that I’m home . . .”

“Actually, I’m taking Henry and Josiah. I’ll be gone for a week. I need you here to keep an eye on Muddy. Don’t tell her I told you this, but she’s slowing down a bit. If you can help around here—maybe pick up the slack—that would help a lot.”

“Sure, no problem,” I said.

“Thanks, Hadley. I know I can count on you.”

“You can, for sure.”

Muddy hadn’t slowed down in the least. But my father was trying to come up with a plausible reason for why he didn’t want me going to the stock show.

I wondered if he was taking his new secret lady friend, and he wanted some uninterrupted alone time with her.

If my father was gone for a week, that meant Declan and I . . .

My stomach rumbled.

Dad raised his brows. “You might want to do something about that.”

I laughed. “Yeah. That leftover shepherd’s pie is calling my name. I meant to ask about the bear. Any sign of it?”

Dad shook his head. “Nah, I think he moved along. Still, make sure you’re carrying if you go for a ride, yeah?”

“I will. Are you going to bring me home a present from the stock show?”

“What kind of present do you want?” he asked.

“Something cute and cuddly. How about a baby goat?”

“You gonna take the baby goat back to New York with you? I don’t think your roommates would appreciate the smell.”

My heart fell at the thought of going back to New York, but I didn’t want Dad to know how I truly felt. Not yet. It would invite questions I wasn’t ready to answer.