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retreat. Its feral growl
warned Callum to stay back.
    It was too dark to aim his rifle with certainty.
He dropped it to the ground, pulled a blade from his boot and charged forward
with a roar of his own. The hog was powerful with lethal tusks attempting to
rip him to shreds. Unfortunately for the hog, this wasn’t his first wrestling
match. They struggled, rolling about on the forest floor. The roots and briars
scraped his exposed face and jabbed him in the ribs. They danced until Callum
found the moment to strike, driving the sharpened blade into the animal’s
throat, slicing wide. It took a few moments for the wild boar to finally
settle, its life ebbing away.
    He lay there on his back with the moonlight
filtering down through the forest canopy, his breathing rapid and heavy. As
soon as his wits returned, he shoved the dead weight off him, stood, and went
to collect the girl. He snagged her wrist, yanking her out of the brushwood and
pulling her along behind him. Without a word, he hoisted her up onto his horse,
grabbed his gun, and mounted behind her.
    The ride back across the fields was uneasily
quiet. Only the rhythmic beat of the horse’s hooves and Hailey’s occasional sob
could be heard.
    Once back home, he helped her dismount and
immediately brought the gelding to the barn for unsaddling. He hated pushing
his horses this late at night, and he blamed Ms. Watson and her foolhardy
expedition.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He didn’t realize
she was behind him in the barn.
    “You should get inside before you catch a
chill.” If he dealt with her now, he’d regret it…or at least she would. His
mother had always told him to take a walk or go for a ride before addressing
the object of his irritation. Speaking from a right mind didn’t land a man in
boiling water nearly as often as acting out of passion. His father and brother
never understood that concept, giving the O’Shea men a bad reputation.
    “It’s just that you were gone, so I thought I’d
start my research. I didn’t expect the sun to set so fast. Then—”
    “You’re lucky you weren’t killed! Those hogs
could have gored you to death.   And I
could barely find you in the darkness. Foolish all around.”
    “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “And thank you for
saving me.”
    After reluctantly putting his horse away wet, he
closed the bay doors and marched back to the house. Little Ms. Watson could be
sorry all she wanted, but the woman was already proving to be more trouble than
she was worth.
    “I’ll cook some chicken for you,” he said as he
walked.
    “That’s okay. It’s late, don’t bother.”
    “I said I’d feed you. Regardless of your little
stunt, I won’t have you go hungry.”
    “I don’t eat meat…or chicken.”
    He stopped dead in his tracks, only a few feet
from the door. “How do you expect to live? All I cook is meat. This ain’t some
fancy vegetarian buffet.”
    “I’m not trying to be difficult.”
    Callum flicked on the lights after they entered
the house. The first thing he noted, when he could see with perfect clarity,
were the scrapes on Hailey’s knees. Any cowgirl in her right mind would have
worn Wranglers out on the fields, not little cotton shorts. He didn’t know what
to make of her. She lived in the tiny town but knew little about country
living—besides her book learning.
    “Sit down,” he said, leaving no room for
argument.
    She complied, lowering into one of the wooden
chairs. There used to be a family member occupying each of the hardwood seats.
Now it was just him.
    “I’m okay,” she said, wincing when he attempted
to touch the bloody scrapes.
    He shook his head and went to collect the
medical kit from above the fridge.
    Callum was used to taking care of himself. He’d
broken a rib a few years back.
Arden
had bound him tight and the wound healed without the need to visit an overpriced
doctor. Many of their injuries over the years were brawl-related as opposed to
accidents working