she had to. She had said as much in her outburst to her mother , which had earned Harley a slap across the face.
“You think this family is going to take you in?” Claire said through gritted teeth. “That you’re anything but a paycheck to them? What is your plan? To crawl into that overpriced stall with your horse—shovel horse shit for your keep? You know what will happen if you do that? You will watch Camille Tatum sic her son on the next rich girl that dares to come to this farm , and I promise you, as long as I am alive this farm will never have another client that is worth a dime. I will run it into the ground .”
That threat was the last words she heard her mother say before dawn. Those words were stirring her gut, making her sick to her stomach. She wasn’t exactly sure what damage her mother could do to this farm, but she knew not to underestimate her either.
She woke the next day to the sound of a diesel engine. She flew from her bed and looked out her window to find the same private transport company that had brought Danny Boy to the farm backing in.
She didn’t even dare to open her door . Instead, she climbed out her window like she had done a million times over.
She ran across the lawn as fast as her legs would carry her. She saw her mother standing with the driver of the town car, her father speaking with the driver of the rig. She ran right past them with only one goal in mind.
When Wyatt opened his eyes, he saw a rig backed into his barn, saw Danny Boy’s tack trunk being loaded, could have sworn he heard him being loaded. He took off toward his door as fast as he could. Right as he opened it, Harley fell into his arms and they both gasped on contact. His lips found hers; the kiss they gave each other was desperate, a gallows kiss, one that you poured every emotion into. He broke away, only to hold her as tight as he could as he buried his face in her hair, breathing her in, telling every sense he had to burn her even deeper into his mind.
“I love you, Harley. You’re safe. I’ll fix it.”
She was crying too hard to say a word. Clenching him, her nails dug into his back. Wyatt’s eyes were burning, and he squinted them closed, only to beg whoever was listening upstairs to stop this, to give him some kind of power to stop this.
He opened his eyes when he felt a presence spill into the room. Garrison Tatum was standing in the threshold of his doorway. Wyatt couldn’t read the look on his face; it was somewhere between fury and agony.
“I love you, Wyatt. Always, no matter what,” Harley was saying over and over between her desperate crying.
Wyatt leaned back, looked in her eyes, did his best to brush away the tears. “This is too real, too deep, too powerful for them to stop us. I love you.”
“Harley,” Garrison said.
The sound of his voice made Harley tremble in Wyatt’s arms. She shocked him when she reached up and kissed him anyway, right there in front of her father.
The next instant, Beckett had made his way into the room. Garrison had taken Harley’s arm, and Beckett had no choice but to use his entire stout build to hold his son back.
Wyatt was screaming her name, and Harley was crying hysterically, even stopped walking because her legs would not carry her. Garrison hesitated at her side. In truth, he had never seen any emotion come from his daughter, not even as a child. Harley never asked for anything, never fought for anything. The closest she had come to either was the presentation she had made to purchase Danny Boy in the first place.
Before he could even consider another avenue that would save both families face, Claire Tatum charged up the stairs, grabbed Harley, and dragged her to the waiting town car.
Wyatt had overpowered his father, made it to the barn aisle, but Beckett caught up to him, and he along with Truman and Johnnie, the farm hand, tackled Wyatt. Wyatt made it past them with nothing but pure rage and desperation. It wasn’t enough, though;
“You think this family is going to take you in?” Claire said through gritted teeth. “That you’re anything but a paycheck to them? What is your plan? To crawl into that overpriced stall with your horse—shovel horse shit for your keep? You know what will happen if you do that? You will watch Camille Tatum sic her son on the next rich girl that dares to come to this farm , and I promise you, as long as I am alive this farm will never have another client that is worth a dime. I will run it into the ground .”
That threat was the last words she heard her mother say before dawn. Those words were stirring her gut, making her sick to her stomach. She wasn’t exactly sure what damage her mother could do to this farm, but she knew not to underestimate her either.
She woke the next day to the sound of a diesel engine. She flew from her bed and looked out her window to find the same private transport company that had brought Danny Boy to the farm backing in.
She didn’t even dare to open her door . Instead, she climbed out her window like she had done a million times over.
She ran across the lawn as fast as her legs would carry her. She saw her mother standing with the driver of the town car, her father speaking with the driver of the rig. She ran right past them with only one goal in mind.
When Wyatt opened his eyes, he saw a rig backed into his barn, saw Danny Boy’s tack trunk being loaded, could have sworn he heard him being loaded. He took off toward his door as fast as he could. Right as he opened it, Harley fell into his arms and they both gasped on contact. His lips found hers; the kiss they gave each other was desperate, a gallows kiss, one that you poured every emotion into. He broke away, only to hold her as tight as he could as he buried his face in her hair, breathing her in, telling every sense he had to burn her even deeper into his mind.
“I love you, Harley. You’re safe. I’ll fix it.”
She was crying too hard to say a word. Clenching him, her nails dug into his back. Wyatt’s eyes were burning, and he squinted them closed, only to beg whoever was listening upstairs to stop this, to give him some kind of power to stop this.
He opened his eyes when he felt a presence spill into the room. Garrison Tatum was standing in the threshold of his doorway. Wyatt couldn’t read the look on his face; it was somewhere between fury and agony.
“I love you, Wyatt. Always, no matter what,” Harley was saying over and over between her desperate crying.
Wyatt leaned back, looked in her eyes, did his best to brush away the tears. “This is too real, too deep, too powerful for them to stop us. I love you.”
“Harley,” Garrison said.
The sound of his voice made Harley tremble in Wyatt’s arms. She shocked him when she reached up and kissed him anyway, right there in front of her father.
The next instant, Beckett had made his way into the room. Garrison had taken Harley’s arm, and Beckett had no choice but to use his entire stout build to hold his son back.
Wyatt was screaming her name, and Harley was crying hysterically, even stopped walking because her legs would not carry her. Garrison hesitated at her side. In truth, he had never seen any emotion come from his daughter, not even as a child. Harley never asked for anything, never fought for anything. The closest she had come to either was the presentation she had made to purchase Danny Boy in the first place.
Before he could even consider another avenue that would save both families face, Claire Tatum charged up the stairs, grabbed Harley, and dragged her to the waiting town car.
Wyatt had overpowered his father, made it to the barn aisle, but Beckett caught up to him, and he along with Truman and Johnnie, the farm hand, tackled Wyatt. Wyatt made it past them with nothing but pure rage and desperation. It wasn’t enough, though;
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