Page 38 of Where We Burn


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I know what Christian needs me to do.

Bury my feelings.

Pretend they don’t exist.

Move on.

Like it’s that simple.

The crisp mountain air stings my cheeks, but I welcome the burn. Out here, under the endless stretch of sky, surrounded by towering evergreens dusted in white, I feel calm. It’s like the storm inside me settles just enough to let me breathe, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m going to hate leaving this place tonight.

I’m lost in thought when Savannah appears beside me, pressing a warm mug into my hands.

“I take it Travis is still acting like a spoiled brat?” She arches a brow as she watches me bring the mug to my lips.

“He hasn’t come back since Callan dragged him home last night,” I say, wrapping my fingers tighter around the mug, letting the warmth seep into my frozen hands. “I’m guessing he’s busy throwing the world’s biggest tantrum.”

“I know he’s your guy, but I have to tell you, that boy is damn lucky he hasn’t been slapped over the years. The little shit could’ve done with it growing up.” A dry laugh slips out before I can stop it, and damn if I don’t like her a little more for her honesty.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back for me. I know exactly who he is.”

Her eyes narrow, and I can see the protective fire building. “I just feel for Christian, you know? He doesn’t have any other kids, he doesn’t have a wife, he does everything for everyone, and yet he’s been treated like trash over the years by his own flesh and blood. And tell me, who’s going to benefit from this place when it’s time? The same flesh and blood who would watch Christian burn and wouldn’t piss on him to put out the flames.”

My stomach drops so fast I’m pretty sure it hits my shoes while tears threaten to fall from my eyes, and suddenly, I’m fighting back nausea because how fucking horrible can one family be? The weight ofher words—the absolute brutality of a son treating his father like he’s nothing—crashes over me.

Christian deserves so much more, and I find myself wanting to fight for him in ways I’ve never wanted to fight for anyone before.

“You’re right. It has to stop.” I turn and march my ass back to the house, pull out my phone, and send Travis a message that makes my fingers ache with how hard I’m typing.

PIPER: You need to get back to the farm. You owe everyone here a fucking apology, and we need to talk.

Shoving the phone into my back pocket, I spin on my heel and nearly run straight into Callan, who’s waiting just inside the doorway. He gives me a lazy wave, resting his hands on his hips as he studies me.

“Everything okay?” He tips his head. “Or should I not ask?”

“I was just messaging Travis.”

“Let me guess? You haven’t heard from him?”

“Nope.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Callan mutters, shaking his head. “Kid’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of Everest.”

I sigh, crossing my arms. “Did he say much last night?”

“Just the usual shit about Christian.” He drags a hand through his hair in a way that looks painfully familiar. A mirror image of his brother. “Has he ever talked to you about his problem with him? Because I don’t think I get it.”

“Only that he wishes he wasn’t tied to this town or the Crawford name. Apparently, compared to the Beaufords, you guys are nothing but a bunch of arrogant, self-serving assholes who are beneath what his mom and her family represent.”

Callan lets out a low whistle. “Wow, so Meredith really is a bitter old hag.”

“Did Christian break her heart or something? Because, honestly, I don’t understand where all this hate comes from.”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “They met, they had sex, they made Travis… one night was all it took.”

I didn’t need to imagine that cowboy’s dick in anyone else, but here we are.

“Then why the grudge?”