It would be tempting to paint Iris with the same brush, but she wasn’t like that.

And maybe the real issue was that Ryder had seen some things in her all along that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

He might be closer to the right solution to all of this than she wanted to admit.

She closed down that part of her brain.

“Do you want anything?” she asked.

“What?”

It took her a moment to realize that she had changed subjects very abruptly and there was no way that Iris would have any idea what she was talking about.

“Jewelry,” Sammy said. “I think I’m going to get going on some projects today. I have some sunstone from Eastern Oregon and some moonstone that I’m really happy to work with and figure out what kinds of combinations I can make. And of course, you know my current obsession is rose gold when it comes to settings.”

“Oh,” Iris said.

Okay, so it hadn’t been the smoothest transition. And it was probably pretty obvious that the reason she did it was that she wanted to be done talking about deep things inside herself. It was one thing to kind of pry other people apart; it was quite another when they started doing it to her.

“So if you want anything...”

“You can surprise me,” Iris said. “I mean, if you end up with something you don’t want to sell.”

“I’ll let you know,” Sammy said.

She left the kitchen and realized she hadn’t even taken any food with her. But she didn’t want to turn around and go back now. She also realized that given the inconclusive nature of that entire interaction it was probably clear to Iris that Sammy hadn’t shared even half of what she had intended to.

She hoped Iris wasn’t hurt by that. Iris was so difficult to read in that way. She was often serene in a way that made Sammy certain there was more going on beneath the surface than anyone knew.

Her ultimate conclusion was that while she hoped her caginess didn’t hurt Iris, Iris hid enough of herself that she didn’t have the right to be annoyed.

By the time Sammy was halfway back to her camper she was grouchy.

She felt completely topsy-turvy and turned upside down, and it was all Ryder’s fault.

Her camper came into view, and she saw the silhouette of one tall, infuriating cowboy.

“Speak of the very devil,” she muttered, kicking a stone to the side and trying to affect her best detached look.

“So it’s ice today,” Ryder said.

“What?”

“You’re ice or fire, Sammy Marshall. And very few people ever see the ice. But I’m lucky enough to be on the receiving end of it every so often.”

“Well, you deserve it. And you’re the last person I want to see right now.”

Mostly because when she closed her eyes now he was all she could see. Mostly because now when she thought about who should be the father of her baby he seemed to be the only answer.