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“Since my daddy fired him yesterday,” Westley said quietly, and something in his tone made both Dolly and me go still. “And then he told me to get off his property too, since I wasn’t gonna let him fire Rhett over somethin’ that wasn’t his fault.”

Dolly’s hand flew to her chest like she’d been struck. “He did what?”

“Threw me out,” Westley said, and I could hear the exhaustion creeping back into his voice, the same hollow note from the night before. “Told me to fall in line or get gone. So I got gone.”

“We ended up in your spare apartment again,” I said sheepishly. “I hope that’s okay…”

For a second Dolly just stood there, looking between the two of us like she was trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Then her expression softened, and she reached out to grab both our hands, squeezing hard enough that it almost hurt.

“Of course it’s fine,” she said finally. “And you two are stayin’ right here, then. Both of you. For as long as you need. And you’re gonna sit your butts down right now and eat somethin’, because Lord knows neither one of you looks like you’ve had a decent meal in weeks.”

She steered us toward our usual booth by the window, still fussing under her breath about Westley’s daddy and what she was going to say to that man next time she saw him in town. I slid into the booth across from Westley, and for the first time since we’d left the apartment, he actually met my eyes.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, just to me, while Dolly bustled off toward the kitchen already hollering something about biscuits and extra bacon.

“For what?”

“For just…” He paused again. “For just bein’ here. So I don’t have to do this alone.”

“You ain’t alone,” I said, and I meant every word of it. “Not while I’m still standin’.”

He gave me a small nod, one hand wrapping around the coffee mug Dolly had already filled without either of us asking. His knuckles were still a little scraped from the fight, and I found myself staring at them longer than I should have, wondering what it might feel like to hold that hand in mine in real life instead of just in my dreams.

I shoved the thought down hard enough to hurt.

“You gonna eat that whole plate she’s about to bring you, or should I start plannin’ on finishin’ it for you?” I asked instead, trying to steer us both back toward something normal.

That got the ghost of a smile out of him. “As long as there ain’t no damn carrots on it, I should be fine.”

Dolly came back a minute later with a tray stacked high, biscuits and gravy, a mountain of scrambled eggs, bacon fanned out like she was trying to feed a whole bunkhouse instead of just the two of us. She set it down with a clatter and pointed a finger at Westley.

“Eat,” she said. “Every bite. You’re skin and bones as it is. I ain’t havin’ none of that wastin’ away business. A man needs his nutrition.”

“Yes ma’am,” Westley said, already reaching for a biscuit like he didn’t dare argue with her.

She turned that same finger on me next, though her voice gentled some when she spoke. “And you,” she said. “You’re gonna tell me the truth about what happened out there eventually, Rhett Levi. I can wait. But don’t think I’ve forgotten I asked.”

My stomach twisted uncomfortably, but I just nodded, not trusting my voice to come out steady yet. She patted my shoulder once softly, like she already knew more than she was letting on, and then bustled off to check on the two truckers arguing over the last cinnamon roll at the counter.

Westley didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes on his plate, shoveling eggs like the conversation hadn’t happened at all. But I caught the way his jaw tightened, the way his fork paused for just a second too long before he kept eating.

He knew. Or he suspected, at least. How could he not at this point? And neither one of us was ready to say it out loud yet. The whole world had just tilted sideways on both of us at once and the last thing either of us needed was another reason to rock the boat.

I picked up my own fork and started eating, because it was easier than talking, easier than looking at him too long and making him feel uncomfortable, and easier than dreaming he might someday be mine when I knew that was impossible. The bruises still ached, my ribs still throbbed with every breath, but sitting there across from him in that booth, morning light slanting gold through the window, I thought maybe things weren’t as broken as they felt.

We had each other, and that was the biggest blessing I could ask for.

Chapter 10

Westley

Around noon, I found myself at the church. My daddy wasn’t the religious type, and he’d raised me to be the same way. In fact, the last time I’d been there was with Rhett during his parent’s funeral. So, to me, it wasn’t exactly a nice place. But I didn’t have a job or a pot to piss in and Dolly said the new pastor was looking for help keeping up the church. I wasn’t exactly a handyman, but I could lift stuff and run a lawn mower, so maybe I could be of some use to him. I wasn’t the type to just sit around and exist on charity anyway, I needed something to do.

The building sat white and simple against the flat blue sky, its steeple casting a long shadow across the parking lot. I stood under the shade of an old oak tree for a minute, gathering up whatever nerve I had left. Between losing the ranch and losing my daddy in every way that mattered, I figured I didn’t have much dignity left to lose by walking in there and asking for a job cleaning gutters or mowing a lawn. I was too desperate to be choosy.

The front doors were propped open, letting a breeze move through the sanctuary, and I could hear the faint sound of someone moving around inside, boxes being shuffled, maybe. I climbed the steps and stuck my head through the doorway.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice sounding too loud in the quiet space.