Seeing You Read Free

him, noting his russet hair needed some serious trimming and his cheekbones were more prominent than I remembered, although they went well with the shadows beneath his eyes and the general gauntness of his frame. He stared at me, seeing God knew what. An awkward silence like this never would have developed if Simon were—I cut off the thought.
    Finally, I couldn’t take one more minute of this, and said, “What happened to this place? To you?” I could have kicked my own ass. What a stupid thing to say. I could tell by the look on Wade’s face that he thought so, too. “Have you tried talking to someone?” Great, I was handling this beautifully.
    His whole body tensed. “About what?”
    I wasn’t sure if I should go on. “About your…grief. About Simon. About trying to…” I stopped, because as much as I loved the sound of my own voice echoing around the now empty kitchen, I would have preferred it far more if Wade had stayed and listened instead of getting up without a word and walking off.

Chapter Three
     
    Living in different cities for over a year had made me soft.
    I had blisters aplenty after a morning spent mucking out stalls, and I had all sorts of muscles screaming at me for riding for so long yesterday. Some things you just had to ease back into.
    Which was why I was here in Wade’s kitchen, scrubbing dishes instead of being out checking grazing conditions with Billy and Joe. Wade wasn’t around, and Mack had disappeared earlier, mumbling something about working on his truck. I suspected he was actually resting, since there was a minute there in the barn this morning that I swear he almost fell over for no reason. Well, there was a reason all right, but I doubt if he’d tell me about it. I was going to have to force it out of him eventually, and in the meantime, I ignored the tendrils of worry worming into my brain.
    I was just wishing I had turned on the radio or something instead of spending so much time alone with my thoughts when the phone on the wall rang.
    “’Lo?”
    “Dylan?”
    “Hey, Erin. How are you?”
    “Good. Thanks for calling me when you got into town.”
    “Sorry. I just got in last night. Was about to call you actually.” Small fib, but it would have occurred to me soon, I was sure. Great big brother I was.
    “Yeah, right. I believe that like I believed you the time you gave me a Barbie for my birthday with a shaved head and claimed it came like that, and the only reason it wasn’t in the box was because you didn’t want me to have to go through all the hard work of taking it out.” I could hear the smile in her voice.
    “You never did believe me that it was GI Jane.” I smiled to myself, but it faded at Erin’s next question.
    “So you’ve seen Wade? Talked to him?” She sounded anxious.
    “Well, I’ve seen him. Talked to him, well that’s kind of a liberal description.” I rubbed my forehead. “Christ, Erin, why the hell didn’t you tell me the shape this place was in? Why didn’t you call me home sooner?”
    “Hey, last I checked you were a grown man. Didn’t think I should have to tell you that ‘your family needed you, not after Simon… Not after what we’ve been through.” She paused and then said grudgingly, “And every time I said I was calling you to come home, Mike said I should leave you to do it in your own time.”
    I smiled, thinking of Erin meekly following what her big, burly husband told her to do. “And you, of course, listened to his advice without question.”
    She snorted. “What do you think? So, are you staying in the house with Wade?”
    “Hell, no. Even the bunkhouse, smelling of sweat and beer, is better than this. Couldn’t you have done some cleaning when you were out here?” I grinned.
    Erin didn’t disappoint me. “Oh, because when the little ol’ female comes to visit, we should just keep her busy cookin’ and cleanin’, is that right? Whatever. Seriously, though, the house has gotten a lot worse in the last