I lowered myself to a rock near where I stood. I’d wait for as long as it took. Patience was something I was familiar with. This wasn’t something I could force out of Shiloh. She had to give it to me when she was ready. Or, maybe she wouldn’t give it at all. But the least I could do was sit there while she was in it.
It wasn’t how I’d expected to spend my evening, but I couldn’t lie to myself. When I’d taken the trail that led between our properties, I’d hoped to catch sight of that long braid swaying in the breeze, a flash of those piercing eyes.
Even now, I lost myself in watching her. In studying the slope of her nose and the curve of her lips. I looked for any hints of the strain around her eyes easing. Her gaze stayed firmly affixed to the water as the deep, blue-green colors swirled.
“Have you ever felt so trapped that you can’t breathe?”
Her lips barely moved as she spoke, and the sound was so jarring in the silence that I almost fell off the boulder I sat on. “More than a few times.” I battled back the memories trying to break free of the steel box I’d locked them in.
Her gaze lifted to mine, and I saw such deep pain there. “I just want to be free.”
“And you’re not now?” I knew what it was to have memories that made you feel as though you were still imprisoned, but I wasn’t sure that was the whole picture with Shiloh. There was some fresh pain there, and it killed me that she was still suffering after everything she’d been through.
“They love me—my family. I know they do. But they’re also suffocating me. I can’t breathe. Can’t move. Can’t do anything without hurting them.”
My jaw worked back and forth. “So, you hurt yourself instead.”
Her eyes flared. “Yes.”
I knew the Eastons were protective of Shiloh. And I understood why. But I could see as clear as day now that Shiloh was dying, piece by piece, to keep them happy. “At some point, you have to choose yourself. It won’t do anyone any good if you cease to exist. They may not see that outcome as a possibility now, but it’ll happen.”
Shiloh’s fingers dug into her jeans-clad legs. “No matter what step I take in any direction, I hurt someone. I’m so tired of hurting people.”
“If someone gets hurt by you taking care of yourself, that’s on them. It sounds to me like it’s about damn time you did.”
Her lips thinned, pressing together in a hard line. “I don’t even know what that looks like.”
Hell. I was the last person who should be giving Shiloh advice. I had far better relationships with animals than people, but I found myself wanting to try. To help somehow. “One step. What’s one thing that would relieve a little of the pressure? Don’t think. First thing that pops into your head.”
“Move out.” Shiloh’s eyes widened at her words. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” My words were gentle, but my heart ached for the woman whose chains were so heavy she couldn’t see that no lock kept them in place. So, she simply stayed where she was.
“My parents would freak. They’d never let me—”
“Letyou? You’re an adult. I assume you get paid for the work you do at the ranch?”
She nodded.
“Then you can get a place of your own. Maybe moving out would be good for all of you.”
Shiloh’s fingers began tapping against her legs in a rapid beat. I had the sudden urge to cover them with mine. To soothe. Her head shook back and forth in tiny movements. “There isn’t anywhere that I feel…”
Her voice trailed off, and I searched for the word she was looking for. “Safe?”
She nodded, her cheeks pinking. “I hate it. I don’t want to be this way. I’m trapping myself as much as they are.”
“What about my place? You feel safe there, don’t you?” The words tumbled out as if they had a mind of their own while I cursed them to Hell. It was instinct as much as anything. Shiloh had been showing up for years. She’d been on edge at first, but now, there was none of that. She always seemed relaxed and at peace on the ridge. I wanted that for her.
“Live withyou?” she squeaked. “We’ve only ever spoken twice.”
My world tilted sideways at that truth. I didn’t let people I didn’t truly know onto my property, let alone invite them tolivethere. But I kept right on talking. “I’ve got a guest cabin.”
I’d let one other person live there—a friend of someone I’d known from prison. It was a favor I’d only done for the brother who’d watched my back in that hellhole. But Boden had moved out months ago into some fancy lodge with his fiancée, Laiken. The guest cabin was just sitting empty.
I saw Shiloh turn the idea over in her mind. “I don’t want to make you do that. I know you don’t like people on your property.”
I hated it. But Shiloh wasn’t people. She was something else altogether. The truth was, she’d become a touchstone over the last several years. And I had a burning urge to help. To protect. Maybe because I knew how it felt to believe there was no way out. Maybe because I saw those wings of hers that had been so badly clipped. The offer might’ve been reckless, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.