Her father’s voice broke through as he shook her, and she realized vaguely that it had been there all along, even though she had no idea what he’d been saying. “Don’t you say that, Cassandra Lawler. Don’t you ever even think that. You’ve never done anything wrong. Not then, not now. I’m—” His voice went gruff, and he had to cough to go on. “I’m the worst father in the state if that’s what I made you think.”

She pulled in a breath, and relief washed through her. If she could breathe, she wasn’t having an attack. She focused on his mossy-green eyes, the color closer to hazel than the brighter shade she and her mother had shared.

“I want you to feel safe in your home,” Dad murmured. “That’s all. I knew that man would start wanting more, and as soon as he did, it would remind you of all this stuff you might not be ready for.” His thumbs brushed over her arms. “After what you’ve been through, I want you to know it’s okay if you’re never ready. You’ll always have a home here, and family, and you’ll never be alone, okay?”

She stood there, his words getting louder and louder in her ears until they were practically screaming at her. She shook off his hands and grabbed the reins of his horse, leading the gelding out of the crowd without a backward glance because she knew her father would follow. She dodged around a cowboy tightening his cinch, heat burning in two points on her cheekbones as she kept her eyes forward. Whatever the crowd heard, it didn’t matter. Every person in this town knew how messed up she was and every disgusting detail of why because the trial transcripts were public documents.

Everything that had been done to her body was public property.

She rounded a fence to a quieter corner of the fairgrounds and stopped. Her dad’s gelding almost stepped on her, then backed up quickly, snorting. She dropped his reins and let the well-trained horse stand as she whirled to face her dad. “I’m always alone.” She narrowed her eyes at him, her vision tunneling to the single point of his pale, round face. “Haven’t you noticed? When I’m riding, when I’m eating. Every moment of my damned existence, I’m alone.”

He blinked. “We . . . I thought you wanted it that way.”

She looked away toward the arena. Why wouldn’t they think that? That is what she’d wanted, at first. Peace and quiet with no scouring eyes. No expectations that she’d start to smile and laugh the way she used to, or show up to ride in a tutu covered with Stacia’s sequins because she was so tired of living in dirt-streaked jeans.