The Enemy's Vow : A Forced Proximity on the Road, Old Flame Sports Romance, livre ebook

Three years, four months and eleven days. Not that he has been counting.
The stagecoach lurches to a stop and Josiah Tarrant presses his palm flat against worn leather, steadying himself against the jolt. Dust rises through the cracks in the floorboards carrying horses and salt and something that tastes like defeat.
*End of the line, Mr. Tarrant.*
He rubs his thumb over the dent in a silver watch, a habit he has never managed to break. It stopped at 2:47 the day the shaft came down on his leg. He never wound it again. He keeps it as a reminder, though of what he is no longer certain.
He steps down onto the boardwalk. Afternoon sun low over the rooftops, long shadows across a street he walked a thousand times as a boy.
The first face does not wave and does not nod, just stares at him the way you stare at a ghost that has wandered back.
The second face is worse. Callum Shaw leaning against the hitching post outside the saloon with his arms folded, a pale scar cutting through the stubble on his left cheek that was not there when Josiah left.
What follows: a debt that weighs like stone, a cave that holds two men through a night nobody talks about afterwards, a hand that both breaks and mends, what a woman wants in exchange for silence, a fever that tells the truth, and the price of vengeance itemised.
*Everything she's done, everything she's planning, it's what I deserve. I lied. I cheated. I stole years of your life.*
More collision than tenderness. Callum makes a sound that is half surprise and half relief and kisses him back like a drowning man.
Josiah can settle the debt, sell the claim and leave this town for good. He is not going to. The next person who tries to take Callum out of this valley by force, by law, or by marriage is going to find out what three years, four months and eleven days of planning actually bought.