Jericho faced Flynn and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why don’t you stop running me around in circles and tell me what this is really about?”

“I’m worried about Ivy,” Flynn said hesitantly. “She’s always had a hankerin’ for you.”

“No—”

“Yep.”

“She can’t stand me most of the time. All we do is fight—”

“You can deny it all the livelong day. But it won’t change things.”

Wyatt and the other men had already started driving the strays back toward the ranch, and Jericho was relieved no one else was around to hear Flynn spouting off about Ivy.

Jericho cast his sights on the stars overhead. Maybe he and Ivy’d had a few fleeting moments of attraction over the years. But that’s all it had been. Fleeting. Even now, the feelings that sprang to life around her were fleeting too. He was leaving just as soon as he caught Rodney James. He had no future in South Park. Certainly not with Ivy.

Flynn let the silence settle between them.

Jericho wanted to tell Flynn the truth about why he was there and put an end to any concerns. But he couldn’t say anything to Flynn any more than he could to Ivy. “I won’t let anything happen between Ivy and me, Flynn.”

“I don’t want her getting hurt. That’s all.”

“And I don’t either.” The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Ivy.

“Then keep it friend-like with her and nothin’ more.”

“I will. I promise.”

In the dark, Ivy tossed her dripping-wet garments onto the bedroom floor and unhooked her nightgown from the back of the door.

“W-e-l-l, it looks like you got what you were going for.” Astrid’s whisper from the bed was filled with censure.

“Don’t know what you’re jawing about.” Ivy slipped the nightgown over her head. After returning from the bog and scrubbing up good in the river and doing her best to get the mud off her body and her clothing, the hour had grown late. She’d been quiet as a daddy longlegs, creeping around and trying not to wake Astrid. But apparently it hadn’t done any good.

Astrid propped up on her elbow. “You wanted to get alone with Jericho and figured out a way to do it.”

“Did not.” Was Astrid jealous? “I wasn’t thinking about him at all and was just doing my job.”

“You’ve been doing nothing but thinking on that man since he returned.”

Ivy rubbed her arms to ward off a chill before she climbed into bed, bumped Astrid, and forced her to scoot over. She gathered up the quilt, the one her ma had made long ago, and brought it up to her chin. The quilt was about the only thing she had left of Ma’s.