Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)

by Elsie Silver

I don’t know why I want to know this woman’s name. I just do. I’m from a small town, I’m allowed to be snoopy.

Thats SO me even if im not from a small town lol

I wave a hand right in front of him to shut him up. “Choose your next words carefully. I don’t care if she’s about to be your sister-in-law. No one speaks to her with that tone, period.”

“Oh never. He helps everyone,” my son replies, making my heart twist in my chest. Sometimes I wonder how I must seem to him, how I look in his eyes. And this one gets me right in the gut.

I also swallow down the agitation I feel at the thought of someone—a mother, no less—not coming to visit a kid like this.

Ones who would crawl through glass to get to me. I want to be that kind of mother one day. Fierce. Fearless.

Cade: Why are you texting me from the same table? Beau: Because you’re too terrifying to talk to. Cade: I hope our nation’s enemies don’t find out what a pussy you are.

I pour myself a cup, and it tastes better just because he made it. Just because he left everything out, knowing I was waiting for him to leave. Because he listened to what I told him.

I can’t wait to be old and retired and say things just to see how people will react to get my kicks. That’s the dream right there.

And my last thought before I lose sight of him is that he deserves better than being back here again. Because he’s so damn honorable that he’ll stick himself with me and this baby. Even if it’s not really what he wants.

We walk. I bounce on a ball. I sit in a bath. And when I look up at Cade and say, “I’m sorry if the magic is gone after this,” he replies with, “It’s okay, I’ve lived through a lot of calving seasons.”