19
Flynn
Worry over how Saige had run from me kept me awake long into the night as Dog slumbered against my side.
Had she returned to the cabin with tears still rolling down her cheeks? If so, Pa would have taken note. He would have poked and prodded. Maybe teased or gave her a hard time.
I shouldn’t have left again. I should have followed on her heels, apologized, and made sure things were okay between us—and with her—before allowing her anywhere near that prick. And until I had that thought, it was too late. Both she and Pa would have been in bed for a few hours.
In the morning, I hoofed it homeward, but slowed my steps upon seeing Saige doing laundry in the barrel out front of the cabin.
Pa worked on digging a new hole for the outhouse that needed to be moved, and if I continued o
