Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The stadium crowd rumbled with polite enthusiasm—about as loud as daytime crowds ever got at the Bowman Rodeo. I still needed to qualify for the big show later tonight—the one my father would actually attend.
It was my first time competing in trick riding, and my stomach was doing somersaults. But I was ready. Months of practice had led me to this moment.
“Alex?” The voice of the new ranch hand broke through my spiraling thoughts. My father had hired him to help out around the ranch, but I hadn’t paid him much attention until now.
I turned to face him, taking in the rugged, drop-dead gorgeous cowboy look he had going on. If you were into that sort of thing, anyway. My sister definitely was—she had a habit of collecting cowboys like souvenirs. Me? I tried not to make them my kind of thing. Still, I wasn’t blind, and there was no harm in enjoying the view.
“Is it time?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. He nodded, and I drew in a deep breath before swapping my boots for sneakers.
“It’s easier to balance in these—and point my toes like a princess,” I explained, catching his bemused expression.
Ignoring the smirk tugging at his lips, I triple-checked the saddle straps before leading Denim to the arena entrance. Swinging onto his back, I felt the familiar connection settle between us. We’d bonded deeply over months of practice. He knew my voice, and I could tell by the subtle flex of his muscles how he was going to move. In trick riding, that bond was everything. Without it, you’d be lucky to walk away without a trip to the hospital.
As the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, I launched into my routine. Denim galloped in perfect rhythm as I performed my tricks—hanging gracefully from his side, balancing with precise control, and flowing seamlessly through each movement. For three minutes, it was just me, Denim, and the pounding of hooves on dirt.
When the routine ended, I’d hit all six required tricks, scoring mostly eights and nines. Not bad for my first competition, though it wasn’t quite the perfection I’d dreamed of. Still, it was enough to qualify for the next round, and for now, that was enough.

“Your name’s Ryan, right?” I asked the ranch hand as he took Denim’s reins and offered a hand to help me dismount.
“That’s right,” he said, his voice low and steady. His fingers lingered at my waist just a little too long, and for a brief moment, our eyes locked.
Then, the unmistakable sound of snickering shattered the moment. I turned to see my brothers and sister watching from a few feet away, grinning like they’d just caught me stealing cookies from the jar.
Being the youngest of five meant this kind of thing was inevitable.
Lee, the eldest, stood with his arms crossed, exuding the same unyielding confidence as Dad. Jamie, the brainiac, had his hands stuffed in his pockets, always sizing up the situation like it was some kind of test. Beth, my cowboy-loving sister, was already smirking, her sharp tongue ready for action. And then there was my twin, Kayce—two minutes older but with enough empathy for the entire family. He had Dad’s aspirations but none of his sharp edges.
Beth was the first to strike. “I thought you came here to rodeo, Alex,” she drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word, “not pick up ranch hands.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I stepped back, putting space between me and Ryan, and squared my shoulders toward them. “I… he was just helping me down. I thought you all were busy branding steers and wouldn’t be here until later.”
Lee’s teasing grin replaced Beth’s sharper tone. “We finished early and told Dad we were coming to watch you fall on your ass. Gotta say, you disappointed.” He slung an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a brotherly half-hug.
“You looked great out there, Alex,” Jamie added, his words softer and more sincere.
I glanced between their faces, searching for the one I was most nervous to see. “Is Dad here too?”
“You know how he is,” Kayce said, his voice calm but laced with the weight of truth. “He said he wasn’t coming to the qualifiers, so he’s not coming. His word is his bond, right?”
“Yeah, I know how he is.” My shoulders sagged just a little, but I quickly forced myself to straighten up. Inhaling deeply, I painted on a smile. “Anyway, I’m starving. Those food stands are calling my name.”
I turned back to Ryan, who was brushing Denim with steady, practiced strokes. “You want to come with us? My treat.”
Ryan paused, his hand stilling on the brush for just a moment before continuing. “No thanks,” he said, not looking up. His tone was polite, but the distance in his words was unmistakable.
It was clear he understood his place—or at least, the place he thought he had. He was the help, and in his mind, that made me off-limits.
—--
A couple of hours later, the butterflies in my stomach were back, fluttering harder than ever. This was it—the big show, the one people shelled out serious cash to see. They came for the spectacle: graceful girls performing acrobatics on the backs of prancing horses, followed by burly men trying to last a grueling eight seconds on a bucking bronco or a raging bull.
For my brothers’ sake, I was grateful none of them wanted to rodeo like me. I’d heard too many stories about cowboys who didn’t walk away after a bad ride. Grandpa used to joke, “The only good reason to ride a bull is to meet a nurse.” Funny, but not enough to ease the reality of the risks.
As I entered the arena, I fought the urge to scan the crowd for my father. I knew he was there. He’d said he would be, and Dad never broke his word. Still, I avoided looking for him. The idea of catching a glimpse of his disappointment gnawed at me. I couldn’t let that rattle my nerves.
He thought I’d have given up rodeoing by now, moved on to something more “practical.” And sure, I could see myself working a steady job—maybe buried in spreadsheets like Beth in her finance career, or grinding through law school like Jamie. Hell, I’d probably even be content running the ranch alongside Lee, Kayce, and Dad. But rodeoing was different. It was mine. It gave me a sense of purpose nothing else could touch.
The crowd erupted in cheers as I nailed my final trick. Only then did I let myself search the stands, and there he was—Dad, staring right at me. He wasn’t scowling. He wasn’t angry.
He looked proud.
The sting of tears hit my eyes, and before they could spill, I rushed out of the arena, my chest tight with emotion.
—--
I smiled as I posed for pictures with little girls in cowboy hats, their faces beaming with excitement. It didn’t seem that long ago that I was one of them—a little girl with pigtails, starry-eyed at the chance to meet the rodeo queen. Funny how life changes. Now, the rodeo queen from my childhood was the governor of Montana. Not that I’d ever aim for political office. That was more Jamie’s ambition—or even Beth’s, in her own way.
Four years had passed since I’d won my first rodeo, yet the thrill still felt as fresh as ever. Dad showed up for the qualifiers occasionally now. Lee and Jamie? They never missed one. Beth had moved to Utah, chasing a career that made her more money than she knew what to do with. And Kayce…
Kayce hadn’t been around in over a year. After one last blowout with Dad, he’d joined the Navy. Now, he had a wife on an Indian reservation and a newborn son I hadn’t met yet. The thought tugged at my heart. Life kept moving, whether you wanted it to or not.
“You ready to head out?” Ryan’s voice broke through my thoughts. It was warm, with a smile tucked into the edges of his words as he watched me interact with my pint-sized fans.
“Almost.” I grabbed my bag and headed toward the truck, taking a moment to check that Denim was secure in the trailer before climbing into the passenger seat.
Ryan started the engine, and we rolled out onto the road, heading back to Yellowstone Ranch. The hum of the truck filled the silence for a moment before I turned to him. “You know, you’re not the low man on the totem pole anymore. You don’t have to haul me around if you don’t want to.”
“I know,” he said, his smirk visible even in the dim light of the dashboard. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Dawn was just breaking when I woke up, the faint light stretching across the horizon. Not every day was a rodeo. Most days were spent mucking stalls, training horses, and doing all the gritty “cowboy” work it took to run the largest ranch in North America. Yellowstone Ranch wasn’t just our home—it was our legacy.
Granted, that legacy had its shadows. At some point in history, this land was taken from others. But for over 150 years, the Dutton family had poured blood, sweat, and tears into keeping Yellowstone alive. Most years, we barely broke even on cattle sales. And even in the leanest years, Dad wouldn’t let me dip into my rodeo winnings to help.
John Dutton was a proud man, stubborn as the Montana winters. The ranch was going to run his way, and no amount of pleading or reasoning would change that. So, like the rest of my siblings, I fell in line—mostly. I was still my father’s daughter, after all, with a streak of independence I wasn’t afraid to show when it mattered.
I rinsed out my mug after my second cup of coffee, set it in the sink, and grabbed my hat before heading to the barn. Mucking stalls wasn’t glamorous, but it was mine.
Dad had made it clear when I was eight years old and he bought me my first horse: if I wanted to rodeo, I had to take care of my horse. Every day. No excuses. In return, he’d make sure I had the training and resources I needed to compete. I hadn’t missed a morning in fifteen years.
Sometimes I wondered if I’d finally paid him back.
“Mornin’,” Lloyd’s voice greeted me as I stepped into the barn, the familiar creak of the door punctuating his words. “Black wheelbarrow’s for manure, green’s for feed. Don’t go mixin’ them up.”
He said that every morning, like clockwork. Lloyd had been on the ranch for as long as I could remember, a fixture of Yellowstone as much as the sprawling pastures and mountain views. He’d been the one who helped me the most when I first started rodeoing. I figured it was because he used to rodeo back in his prime, though he didn’t talk much about those days.
“Yes, sir,” I replied, flashing him a smile. I grabbed the black wheelbarrow, rolled it to the edge of the stall, and got to work. The rhythmic scrape of the pitchfork felt almost meditative after all these years.
By the time I was finished, I’d cut my morning routine down considerably since I was eight. Mucking out the stalls, feeding, and watering the horses—just a couple of hours’ work. Just in time, too, for the rest of the ranch hands to come busting into the barn, ready to saddle up and start their day.
My eyes lingered on Ryan as he saddled his horse, the muscles in his arms flexing with every movement. I couldn’t help it; there was something about him that drew me in. Four years of working side by side, and he’d never crossed the line. I was the boss’s daughter, and he was the employee. That alone kept things professional—on the surface. But there were always those stolen glances, those tender touches that lasted a little longer than they should for something that was supposed to be platonic. If anything ever happened between us, I knew I’d have to be the one to make the first move.
“So, what’s on the schedule today?” I asked, keeping my tone casual as I tried to push aside the tension building in my chest.
“Think Lee wants us to head up to the east pasture, start bringing the pairs down for winter,” Ryan replied, glancing over at me as he finished saddling his horse. “You joining us?”
“Sounds fun,” I said with a smile, though inside I was trying to figure out how to tell him I wanted more than just the ranch hand–boss’s daughter dynamic. But that would have to wait. The ranch came first.
“It’s Colby’s birthday,” Ryan said, catching my attention as we led our horses out of the barn. “You wanna come by the bunkhouse later and celebrate with us?”
“Okay, I’ll be there,” I answered, surprised by the wave of relief that washed over me. That would give me the perfect opportunity to talk to him on a different level—away from the ranch, away from the expectations.
The wind whipped through my auburn hair as I rode through the tall grass, wrangling cows with the rest of the ranch hands. This was about as cowboy as you could get, and this moment, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
—--
If I were like my sister, I'd put on a cotton dress that hugged my curves, then saunter into the bunkhouse to take my pick of cowboys. But I wasn't Beth. The way she did things only worked for her, and I wasn’t interested in just any cowboy. I had my eyes—and my heart—set on one in particular.
So, I showered, put on some makeup, and slipped into my favorite pair of jeans. Then, I made my way to the bunkhouse.
It was loud, as you’d expect a bunkhouse to be. The guys were gathered around the table, laughing and playing cards.
It felt cool. Casual. Just a bunch of guys having a good time. I could do this. I’d done it a thousand times before. Being a girl in this family didn’t mean being soft. It meant you had to buck up and fight, harder and more often than anyone else.
Mom explained it to Beth when she came of age, and Beth tried relaying it to me. Once you reach a certain age, boys start to see you differently. And it’s up to us to make sure they don’t treat us like we’re weak. We can’t let ourselves believe we’re weak, either. Because women are strong. We have to be.
I gave a smile when my eyes met Ryan’s. He moved a case of beer from the chair beside him and brushed it off, motioning for me to take a seat.
“What are we playing?” I asked, feigning casual interest. I already knew it was five-card draw—a game I was terrible at—but tonight wasn’t about winning. Whiskey wasn’t my thing either, but I drank it anyway. Liquid courage, right?
“I think y’all are cheatin’,” I slurred after my fifth shot of Jack Daniels, giggling as I leaned on the table for support. “I’m all outta money.”
I pushed back my chair and stood, or at least tried to. My legs wobbled, unsure of themselves like a newborn calf. Before I could tip over, Ryan’s hand caught my arm, his grip firm and steady.
“Where are you headed?” he asked, his smile soft but teasing.
“Bathroom,” I said, pointing vaguely in the direction I hoped it was.
“Other way,” he chuckled, nodding to the far side of the bunkhouse.
When I finally stumbled out of the bathroom, Ryan was waiting, leaning against the wall like he’d been keeping an eye on me the whole time.
“You want me to walk you back to the house?” he asked, his tone as steady as his presence.
“You think I can’t hang?” I teased, the giggle escaping before I could stop it. My words wavered, betraying me.
“I know you can hang,” he said, his grin widening, “but I’m not sure how much longer you can stand.”
He offered his arm, and I took it, grateful for the warmth and strength of him beside me. As we stepped into the cool night air, the sounds of the bunkhouse faded behind us, leaving just the quiet hum of crickets and the steady rhythm of my heart pounding in my chest.
I knew what I had to do. If I didn’t say something now, the moment would pass, and I’d regret it forever.
“I wanted to tell you something,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“What’s that?” he asked, glancing down at me with those kind eyes that always seemed to see straight through me.
I opened my mouth, but the words tangled themselves into knots, impossible to untangle. So, I reached up instead, cupping his face in my hands and pulling him down to meet me.
The kiss was everything I’d imagined and more—warm, slow, and electric. His hands slid to my waist, holding me firmly, yet with a tenderness that made my knees feel weak all over again. The barn wall caught my back as I pulled him closer, my fingers trailing down his chest until they fumbled with the buckle of his belt.
“Wait,” Ryan murmured, his voice rough, breaking through the haze.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, blinking up at him, my breath catching. “Don’t you want me?”
His thumb brushed my cheek, his expression soft but resolute. “More than you can imagine,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, “but not like this. I want the first time we’re together to mean something—not something you might regret in the morning.”
“I won’t regret it,” I promised, my voice trembling as I toyed with his belt buckle. “I swear, I won’t.”
“You say that now,” he said, pressing his lips gently to my forehead. “But let’s make sure.”
He stepped back, his hands lingering on my waist as if it took everything in him to let go. “If you still feel the same tomorrow night, meet me in the barn after dinner.”
He gave me one last smile, the kind that could melt steel, before walking away, leaving me breathless and aching for more.

Chapter Text

I tossed and turned as Ryan’s words echoed in my mind. Not a hard no. Just a not right now. I could live with that. The promise of tomorrow dangled in front of me, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm inside.
I needed to talk to Kayce. He’d always been the one to help me make sense of things, just like I did for him. That twin connection—the kind that runs deeper than words—was something my other brothers couldn’t replicate. I loved Jamie and Lee, but with Kayce, it was different. We just got each other. Or at least we used to.
When Kayce left, it felt like I lost a piece of myself. He’d promised he’d come back, but some promises feel too big to believe.
Morning came, and I went through the motions—chores done, dust on my boots, same as always. But instead of heading to the fields or the corral, I climbed into my car and headed toward the Indian Rock Reservation. That’s where the girl was. The one Kayce had chosen over everything else—our family, our father, the Yellowstone ranch.
To be fair, Dad hadn’t given him much of a choice. Take the girl to abort the baby or leave. Kayce chose to leave. He stood by her, Monica. They had a son together, Tate. I remembered the look on Kayce’s face when he told me he was going.
“I won’t do that to her,” he’d said, his voice thick with conviction. “I know what they used to do at those clinics—what they still sometimes do. Thing about it is, I love her. And I want to start a family with her. Just happened sooner than I planned.”
“If you’re sure,” I’d told him, “I’m behind you. No matter what. I’ll be there for you.”
Three days later, he was deployed.
When Kayce came back, he wasn’t the same man. War had hollowed him out in ways I didn’t understand. He became distant, carrying the weight of something I couldn’t see but could feel in every interaction. Life hadn’t been kind to him. He’d watched our mother die in a field when he was just a boy. Beth blamed herself for that, and for a while, so did Kayce—until he grew up enough to understand it wasn’t that simple.
Then there was the brand. Dad’s twisted idea of loyalty burned into Kayce’s skin when he refused to follow orders. And now the war had left its own scars.
I placed my hand over my heart as I pulled into the driveway of the small mobile home. The scar beneath my palm tingled—a phantom echo of a shared pain we never talked about. The home wasn’t much, not compared to the Yellowstone lodge, but it felt like it could be something. It felt like him.
A young Native woman stepped out onto the porch as I parked. I’d never met Monica before, but seeing her, I understood why Kayce fell for her. She was beautiful, yes—but there was something untamed about her, something strong and steadfast. Wild and free, or as free as you can be with a three-year-old underfoot.
“Hi,” I said, stepping out of my car. “I’m Alex. Kayce’s—”
“I know who you are,” she replied before I could finish. Her voice wasn’t unkind, just direct. “Come inside. Kayce will be home in about an hour.”
The hour passed quietly, with not many words exchanged. But my heart lit up the moment Tate toddled into the room. He was the cutest little boy I’d ever seen, all wide eyes and easy smiles. He had Kayce’s eyes—our eyes—but everything else about him was his mother. Strong cheekbones, dark hair, a quiet steadiness that felt unshakable.
I sat cross-legged on the floor, helping him build castles out of blocks. His giggle was infectious, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Monica watched us from the kitchen, her expression soft but unreadable. Maybe she was trying to figure me out. I didn’t blame her—I was still figuring myself out, too.
Then the door swung open, and I heard the sound of boots on the floor. My head snapped up, and there he was.
“Alex,” Kayce said, his voice laced with concern, “what’s wrong?”
The twin thing. He could always tell when something weighed on me, even if I didn’t say it out loud. The truth was, nothing was wrong—not really. I just needed to see him, to feel grounded, to remind myself why love was worth the risk.
“I just missed you,” I said, pushing myself up from the floor. I walked over and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on tightly. “I had to see for myself that it was worth it. And now I have no doubts. Not anymore.”
Kayce pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed in confusion. “You’re not making much sense, Alex. But… I’ll go with it.” He gave me that small, lopsided smile I hadn’t realized I missed so much. “You staying for dinner?”
“Dinner?” I glanced at my watch, and my stomach flipped when I saw the time. The sun was already dipping low, painting the room in warm, golden light. How had it gotten so late?
“No,” I said, grabbing my jacket in a rush. “I have to be somewhere. I just hope I’m not too late.”
I knelt down to give Tate one last hug, whispered a soft thank you to Monica, and stepped out the door. The cool air hit my face, clearing my mind. The weight I’d carried here was gone now, replaced by something lighter, something hopeful.
Love is worth it.
I started the car and pulled out of the driveway, my heart beating faster with each passing mile.
It was dark by the time I made it back to Yellowstone. The stars above were bright, but they did little to settle the storm brewing inside me. My boots crunched against the gravel as I hurried toward the barn, biting my lip to keep my emotions in check. Was I too late? Did Ryan think I didn’t want this? Or… did he change his mind?
Inside, the barn was bathed in shadows, the faint smell of hay and leather filling the air. The horses shifted in their stalls, their soft munching the only sound breaking the silence. My heart sank. He wasn’t here.
I slid down the nearest wall, wrapping my arms around my knees and burying my face in my hands. A lump formed in my throat as doubts crept in. I wasted too much time. I messed this up.
I leaned my head back against the wooden slats, closing my eyes as my thoughts spiraled. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe I wasn’t meant to have this. Or maybe… it just wasn’t the right time. The ache in my chest deepened with every passing minute.
The creak of the barn door pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see Lloyd stepping inside. His expression softened when he spotted me, his weathered face as familiar as the land itself.
“Hey, Alex,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “Ryan had to head out and deal with some wild dogs over in the west field. Should be back soon.” He paused, giving me a knowing smile. “You’re welcome to wait for him in the bunkhouse if ya want.”
Relief hit me like a wave, making my shoulders sag as I let out a shaky breath.
“Thanks, Lloyd,” I murmured, pushing myself to my feet. My legs felt shaky, as though the weight of my emotions had settled in my bones.
As I brushed the hay off my jeans, I glanced toward the west field. He’ll be back soon. The thought was enough to spark a flicker of hope.
I wasn’t too late. Not yet.
—-

“Is this what y’all do every night?” I asked, plopping down on the worn-out couch in the bunkhouse. Around the table, a rowdy poker game was in full swing, the surface cluttered with empty beer and whiskey bottles.
“Just about,” Jake replied with a grin. “Sometimes we watch NASCAR.”
I snorted a laugh. Thank God I didn’t pick NASCAR night to visit the bunkhouse.
“Don’t let me rain on your parade,” I said, kicking up my boots on the coffee table. I flipped through the channels, desperate for a distraction to drown out the thoughts racing through my mind. Sports, sports, and more sports filled the screen. Wasn’t there anything else on? Finally, I landed on the Game Show Network. Steve Harvey’s voice filled the room as he hosted back-to-back episodes of Family Feud. I chuckled at the absurdity of it. If only real-life family drama could be solved with buzzers and fast money rounds.
I must’ve dozed off because the next thing I knew, a gentle shake roused me. I blinked up into the warm, familiar gaze of Ryan.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sweetness that made my chest tighten.
“I’m still here,” I murmured through a yawn, sitting up. “I wanted to see you.”
“I wanted to see you too,” he replied, his lips curving into a small smile. “But the ranch needed me.”
“I know,” I said as he settled beside me on the couch. The rest of the bunkhouse had gone quiet, the other guys clearly turned in for the night. “The ranch always comes first.”
I reached up, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw with my fingertips. My eyes searched his, finding no hesitation, no doubt. Just him. Us. Slowly, I leaned forward, pressing my lips softly to his. The kiss was tender but carried an undeniable spark that sent warmth radiating through me. When I pulled back, his thumb brushed over my lower lip.
“Sweeter than I’d imagined,” he said with a playful smirk, leaning in to kiss me again. This time, it deepened, his body pressing against mine as I sank back onto the couch. The old, worn cushions groaned beneath us, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was him—his touch, his warmth.
“Get a room!” came a loud shout from one of the bunks, followed by muffled laughter.
Heat flooded my cheeks as reality crashed in. I sat up, fumbling to adjust my clothes. “There’s an idea,” I said, my voice tinged with embarrassment and humor.
Ryan chuckled, sitting up with me. “One more night,” he said, his tone softer now. “I have an idea. But I need tomorrow to get it ready.”
“As much as I don’t want to,” I replied, “I think I can wait. This dirty old sofa wasn’t exactly the romantic vision I had in mind.”
His brow arched, and a teasing smirk tugged at his lips. “Oh? And what kind of romantic vision did you have?”

Chapter Text

Another morning’s worth of chores was behind me, but no matter how hard I tried to focus on the work, the memory of Ryan’s lips on mine kept sneaking back into my thoughts. It was maddening, the way one moment could replay so vividly, like a song stuck on repeat.
A soft nudge on my shoulder pulled me back to reality. I glanced over to see Denim’s muzzle pressing against me, his big brown eyes full of quiet insistence.
“All right, buddy,” I said with a small laugh, scratching his neck affectionately. “Let’s get to it.”
I led him into the corral, the familiar rhythm of our routine soothing my restless mind. Denim loved training—always eager, always focused. He seemed to know how much I needed this, needed him.
We’d been working on level four tricks for months now, honing moves that could truly wow the crowds. Things like side passes, flying lead changes, even some fancy spins. Denim took to it all like a natural, his intelligence and spirit shining through every step.
I let myself get lost in the training. Nothing else mattered—not the chores, not my swirling thoughts—just the rhythmic pounding of hooves against the ground and the powerful connection between horse and rider. The wind whipped through my hair, cool and wild, and for those fleeting moments, I felt truly free. This was everything. The thrill I lived for.
The spell broke when the dinner bell rang, echoing across the ranch. The guys were back from the field, which meant if I wanted this meeting with Ryan to actually happen, I had to move. Fast.
Sliding off Denim, I gave him an affectionate pat on the neck. “Good boy,” I murmured, even as the realization hit me—I reeked of horse. The earthy scent of Denim clung to me like a second skin, and I wasn’t sure how romantic I could feel smelling like a barnyard.
I jogged toward the house, the excitement of seeing Ryan again mingling with a nervous energy. There was no time to waste.
A short while later, the grime of the day had been washed down the shower drain, and I stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around me. It wasn’t a date, I reminded myself. It was something else. Something more. The weight of that realization made my chest tighten.
Then it hit me. I needed to find Jamie or Lee. They’d have what I needed. I didn’t want to get caught up in the moment only to realize I wasn’t prepared. Ryan was thoughtful, sure, but just in case he didn’t think of it... I had to.
I threw on some clothes and headed down the hall, knocking on Jamie’s door. “Hey, I need to ask you something, and you can’t tell Dad,” I said firmly.
“What is it?” Jamie opened the door, his face drawn and tired like he hadn’t slept in days.
“You okay?” I asked, stepping inside. His normally neat room was a disaster—papers strewn across the desk, spilling onto the bed.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Just going through the books. There’s not enough to cover feed for the winter.” His voice carried a sharp edge of panic.
“We’ll figure it out. We always do,” I said, trying to reassure him. His worry was contagious, but I couldn’t let it show. “Take a breath, and we’ll look at it together.”
Jamie shuffled through the paperwork, pointing at numbers that blurred together in my head. He wasn’t explaining much, just venting his frustration.
“You’re gonna hate this suggestion,” I told him, meeting his stressed gaze. “Call Beth. This is more her area than mine.”
“You’re right,” Jamie said, his voice a little lighter. “I do hate that suggestion.”
I gave him a small smile, hoping to lift his spirits. He picked up a paper from the bottom of the stack and pointed at it. “This,” he said with cautious optimism, “this will pull us out.”
I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but relief flickered across his face, so I figured it was progress. Suggesting Beth must’ve nudged him in the right direction. Jamie and Beth’s relationship was... complicated. Strenuous didn’t even begin to cover it—they couldn’t stand each other. Still, sometimes the friction sparked solutions.
“What was it you needed, Alex?” Jamie asked, his voice calmer now.
I hesitated. Jamie already had enough on his plate, and I didn’t want to add more. “Uh... I’m not going to be at dinner. Can you cover for me?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, though his furrowed brow hinted at confusion.
“Thanks,” I replied, slipping out of his room.
I made my way to Lee’s cabin, steeling myself for the inevitable teasing. Lee was my eldest brother, and while he had a knack for making light of everything, I knew he’d help me.
I knocked, then pushed the door open before he could answer. “Lee, I need help!”
“What’s wrong?” His expression was instantly serious. “What happened? Do I need to grab my rifle?”
A grin spread across my face. “Nothing like that. I just need to borrow a condom.”
“Borrow?” He raised a brow, his lips twitching with amusement. “You planning on returning it when you’re done?” He headed into the bathroom, rummaging through his medicine cabinet.
“Only if you want it back,” I quipped, leaning against the doorframe.
“I’ll pass,” he said, handing me a package. “We’re not that close.”
“Thank you,” I said, slipping the box into my pocket. “Please don’t say anything to Dad or Beth.”
Lee shook his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, I’m not getting involved in that, Bitsy. Just glad you’re being careful.”
The childhood nickname made me feel like I was eight years old again.
“I gotta go,” I said, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thanks again.”
“Anytime,” he called after me as I headed out the door.
Finally, I was ready—or as ready as I could be, not knowing exactly what Ryan had planned for the evening.

The gravel crunched under my boots as I stepped into the dim barn. There he was, waiting. My heart skipped a beat as I took him in. He’d made an effort—new button-up shirt, fresh jeans. I smiled. Guess he didn’t want to meet me smelling like a horse either.
“Hey,” I said softly, my voice almost lost in the quiet. “Sorry if I kept you waiting.”
Ryan’s eyes swept over me, his gaze lingering. “You’re worth the wait,” he murmured, stepping forward to rest his hands on my hips. He pulled me closer, and I tipped my head back to meet his eyes. Standing on my toes, I pressed my lips to his.
The kiss was just as hypnotizing as the first, soft but brimming with unspoken promises. When he broke away, his voice was low. “My truck’s out back. You ready to go? Not that I mind this...” He gave my hips a playful squeeze, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk.
I quirked a brow, letting him lead me outside. “You didn’t actually get a room, did you?”
He opened the truck door and helped me climb in. “No,” he admitted, “but the thought did cross my mind.” Sliding into the driver’s seat, he added, “Still have to be up at 4 a.m. to run cattle.”

“Right,” I said, my heartbeat picking up. “So...what did you come up with?”

“You’ll see,” he replied with a grin.

The truck rumbled to life, and we drove out into the field. The night stretched wide and clear, every star twinkling against the velvet sky. He parked and climbed out, heading to the back of the truck. I watched him rummage for something, curiosity bubbling.

By the time he came to my side, I’d already climbed down. His brow furrowed, a flash of disappointment crossing his face.

“Sorry,” I stammered. “I’m just so used to—”

“It’s okay, Alex,” he interrupted gently, his hand slipping into mine.

He led me to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. My breath caught. Strings of soft, golden lights lined the edge, illuminating a bed of blankets and pillows. It was cozy, thoughtful, and more effort than anyone had ever put in for me.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered, my heart thundering in my chest.

Ryan’s gaze softened as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You are.”
Before I could respond, his lips met mine again, soft and deliberate. His hands found my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto the tailgate. I slid back onto the cushions, bringing him with me without breaking the kiss.

The world faded away—the stars, the field, the night itself. All that mattered was this moment, here and now.
Ryan’s lips met mine again, but this time there was no rush, no urgency. The kiss deepened as his hands explored the curve of my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. I could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through his shirt, a barrier he was quick to remove.
He slid his shirt off in one fluid motion, and I couldn’t help but pause, taking him in. My lips parted as I traced his chest with my fingers, feeling every ridge and scar. He was rugged and beautiful, a man molded by the land he worked and the life he lived.
I raised my arms, letting him help me out of my top. The cool night air kissed my bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his touch. His lips found my neck, lingering in that spot that made my breath hitch, and I melted into him. His hands were steady, confident, as they slid the straps of my bra down my shoulders.
His kisses traveled lower, tasting the curve of my collarbone, then further still. When his mouth found my breast, a soft moan escaped me. He moved slowly, savoring each moment, each reaction he coaxed from me. His tongue teased one nipple, then the other, until I arched into him, silently asking for more.
Ryan shifted, his lips trailing down my stomach, stopping just above the waistband of my jeans. He looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire but filled with an unspoken question. My heart raced as I nodded, my consent clear.
He unbuckled my belt, the sound loud in the quiet of the night. His hands worked methodically, tugging my jeans and boots off in one smooth motion. I was bare before him, exposed in every way, but I didn’t feel vulnerable—I felt wanted.
Ryan’s breath was warm against my skin, each exhale sending shivers through me as his lips trailed lower, exploring with unhurried reverence. When his mouth found its destination, a gasp escaped me, sharp and involuntary. His tongue moved with purpose, tasting and teasing, drawing a soft moan from deep within me.
He shifted, his hands gripping my thighs firmly, holding me steady as his tongue delved deeper, mapping every inch of me. Then he found it—that perfect spot that sent a spark of electricity coursing through my body. My legs trembled against his hold, my fingers clutching at the blankets beneath me as I tried to ground myself.
Ryan’s movements were deliberate, each flick of his tongue and gentle press of his lips coaxing me closer to the edge. He seemed to savor every reaction, every sound that spilled from my lips, as if my pleasure were his sole purpose in that moment. His name tumbled from me in a cry as the tension inside finally shattered, the waves of release rippling through me.
I lay trembling, my breaths uneven, as Ryan’s lips pressed gentle kisses along my thighs, grounding me as I came back down. He looked up at me, his eyes dark with satisfaction and something deeper, something unspoken but felt in every touch.
“Just as sweet,” Ryan murmured, his voice low and thick with desire, as he kissed his way back up my body. His lips brushed mine, soft and searching, grounding me as I floated back down from the high he’d pulled me into. My hands roamed over his chest, tracing the hard lines and flexing muscles beneath my fingertips. They drifted lower, finding the buckle of his belt.
I fumbled with it, my need building with each passing second. I ached for him, for more than this electric anticipation. Sliding my hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, I found him, hard and warm against my palm. He growled softly into my neck, his breath hot against my skin, as I stroked him—slow, deliberate movements that matched the rhythm of our hearts.
“Baby,” he rasped, his hand catching my wrist, “if you keep that up, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.”
I met his gaze, my voice steady despite the trembling anticipation coursing through me. “I don’t want you to stop.”
A slow smile spread across his face, and he pressed his lips to mine before leaning back, settling beside me on the truck bed. His eyes shifted upward, taking in the star-filled sky as he spoke, his voice tinged with regret. “I know. But I didn’t have time to get to town.”
It took a moment for his words to click, and when they did, I sat up, reaching for my jeans. Fishing the small box from my pocket, I dropped it onto his chest before curling back beside him.
“Fortunately,” I murmured, a playful grin tugging at my lips, “I have two brothers who don’t ask too many questions.”
Ryan glanced at the small box on his chest, his lips quirking into a slow grin. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand like it was some kind of treasure.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said with a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with a mix of humor and affection. “You came prepared, didn’t you?”
I give him a smirk, my cheeks warming under his gaze. “I didn’t want to take any chances.”
He leaned closer, cupping my face gently, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You think of everything, don’t you? Guess I better make this worth your while.”
Ryan leaned in, capturing my lips with his in a kiss that reignited the heat between us into a roaring flame. He shifted slightly, discarding his boots and jeans with a sense of urgency that mirrored my own. His eyes, ablaze with desire, met mine as he positioned himself between my parted thighs.
The sound of the wrapper tearing was brief but electric, a prelude to what came next. He rolled the condom down his length with practiced ease, then leaned forward, his hands steady on my hips.
I hooked my leg over his waist, feeling every inch of him as he pressed into me slowly, deliberately. I held my breath, savoring the connection that had been building for what felt like forever. My fingers dug into his back, anchoring us as he sank deeper, filling the space between us completely.
Our bodies moved in unison, a perfect rhythm guided by the thundering beats of our hearts. Each thrust, each gasp, drew us closer to the edge until we finally reached it together, a shared moment of bliss that left us both breathless.
He collapsed against me, his weight comforting as our bodies intertwined in the aftermath. The silence between us was soothing, a tangle of legs and arms and the kind of peace I hadn’t known I needed.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that with you,” Ryan finally broke the silence, his voice low and content as he rolled onto his back beside me.
I propped myself up on one elbow, gazing at his face with a teasing smile. “You? I’ve been dropping hints for years.”
Tucking myself against his side, I pulled the covers over us, letting the warmth settle in. “You must’ve fallen off your horse one too many times not to notice.”

Chapter Text

The barn smelled of hay and leather—familiar, comforting, and grounding—even as I tightened the straps on my saddle with a determination that bordered on defiance. The invitation to the National Rodeo Championship had arrived a week ago, but the weight of it felt like it had settled on my shoulders for much longer.
“Steady, Denim,” I murmured, stroking his neck. Denim snorted in response, tossing his head as if to say, Let’s get on with it. He was ready.
My father’s words echoed in my ears, sharp and unwavering. “You’re not going, Alex. That’s final.”
But I’d stopped listening to “final” a long time ago.
Dad thought I should stick to working on the ranch. To him, rodeo was a hobby, not a career. He wanted me to go to vet school, even going so far as to apply on my behalf. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it—I was smart enough, capable enough. It just wasn’t my dream.
I climbed into the saddle, then stood on Denim’s back as he trotted into the corral. We raced around the makeshift arena, moving seamlessly through my routine. The level four tricks I’d incorporated now felt second nature, like they were part of me. As we reached the final stretch, I flipped from Denim’s back and landed on my feet, striking a pose, my arms raised in anticipation of applause.
There was none, of course. This was just practice. But Ryan’s voice rang out from the fence line, hooting and hollering like I’d just won the championship.
“Thanks!” I called, giving him a playful bow.
He leaned against the fence, watching me with a mixture of pride and concern. Ryan hadn’t said much since I’d told him I was going to Vegas. He didn’t need to. His face said it all—he was proud of me, but the thought of being apart weighed on him as much as it did on me.
“You’re pushing too hard,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet.
I led Denim toward the barn, brushing a hand along his flank to keep him calm. “Tricks I’ve got, but I haven’t done barrels since I was twelve. I have to be ready for everything.”
“You’ll be ready,” Ryan said, climbing over the fence to join me. “You already are.”
“Then why does it feel like everything’s working against me?” I asked, the frustration creeping into my voice.
“Because it is,” he said with a small, reassuring smile. “But you’ve never let that stop you before.”
I brushed down Denim, letting him cool off after the run. His coat glistened with sweat, but his eyes were bright, eager, as if he knew what lay ahead for us. I smiled and filled his trough with his favorite hay and alfalfa mix, giving him a grateful pat before stepping out of the stall.
The barn’s warm light spilled over me as I stepped into Ryan’s waiting arms, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. “Thank you for believing in me,” I whispered, my voice soft but steady.
Ryan smiled down at me, his eyes filled with a warmth that made my chest ache. “You’re easy to believe in,” he said, his arms tightening around my waist. Then his lips met mine, and I melted into the kiss, deep and lingering, savoring the moment.
I’d miss this so much in the week I’d be gone. My heart squeezed at the thought. If I won, it wouldn’t just be a week. It could mean months on the road, touring across the country.
Pulling back just enough to catch my breath, I rested my forehead against his. “I wish I could take you with me,” I murmured. “But I know your job is here.”
Ryan sighed, his thumb brushing gently against my cheek. “I’d go if I could,” he admitted, his voice low. “But even if I can’t be there, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”
I nodded, a quiet affirmation of everything he’d said. I believed him. And I wasn’t about to let the time slip away without savoring every moment we had left together. I pulled him toward the storage room, where the cot still stood—a far cry from the romance of a moonlit night, but with Ryan beside me, it became something else entirely.
My hands fumbled to tug his shirt loose from his pants, pulling it quickly over his head, and then I followed suit, peeling off my own clothes. The urgency between us was undeniable, but in those fleeting seconds, I wished time would slow down, giving us more to hold on to.
But I knew we didn’t have that luxury. The tension built in my chest, pushing me forward as I kicked my pants off and straddled his hips. A soft groan escaped me as I sank down onto him, feeling the rush of warmth and connection flood over me.
Ryan’s fingers dug into my hips, his grip both grounding and possessive as I moved against him, matching the rhythm of the moment.
The pressure inside me built, every nerve buzzing on the edge of release. I bit my lip, trying to stifle the cries threatening to escape me, as the sensation grew overwhelming. Then, with a final burst, everything snapped. My muscles clenched around him, releasing in waves, each one deeper than the last.
A warm glow spread through me, flooding my senses as I held my breath, savoring the ache that lingered. It coaxed his own release, the deep connection between us intensifying, filling the space with a quiet, shared satisfaction.
I collapsed in a heap on his chest, my breath still coming in shallow gasps as I rested against him. His fingers threaded through my hair, the gentle motion calming me, helping our breathing slow and steady.
“I love you,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I hadn’t said it before. I’d been scared to, afraid of saying it at the wrong time, worried it would sound cliché, like some romantic afterthought. But it felt right in this moment, in his arms.
Ryan’s fingers stilled for a second before he smirked, his voice light yet warm. “I know.” He chuckled softly. “What’s not to love?”
The quiet between us lingered for a moment, the weight of my confession settling in the air. But time didn’t stop for feelings, and the reality of what was ahead crept in. I could already hear the sounds of Denim’s hooves tapping against the barn floor, the shift in the atmosphere around us as the world began to move again.
I pushed myself up from Ryan’s chest, reluctant to break the peace but knowing there was work to be done. “We should get the horses ready,” I murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
Ryan’s gaze softened as he watched me, then he gave me a small nod. “Yeah, we don’t want to miss the road.”
I stood and stretched, taking a deep breath, grounding myself in the moment. The truck needed loading, the horses needed to be prepped, and soon we’d be on the road—my last trip before the National Championship.
I grabbed Denim’s halter and led him out of the stall, the rhythm of the barn taking over as we slipped into the routine. The saddles, the tack, the last-minute checks. My thoughts kept drifting to the ride ahead, but for now, I focused on the practical, the physical. Getting everything in place before I left it all behind.
Ryan was right there, helping with the final touches, his hands quick and efficient. But there was an undercurrent of tension, the unspoken knowledge that this would be different. This time, it wasn’t just a rodeo; it was everything I’d been working for.
—---------
The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow over the ranch as the cool morning air wrapped around me like a reminder of everything I was about to leave behind. Denim stood in his stall, waiting, calm and patient, as I pulled on my gloves and headed toward the barn. It felt surreal—this was happening. This was the moment I’d been working toward, and yet, it felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind.
Ryan was at the truck, checking the hitch on the trailer, his movements sharp, efficient. He glanced up when he saw me approach, but his eyes softened when they met mine, a silent understanding between us.
“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice low but steady.
I paused for a moment, my fingers wrapped around Denim’s halter. “I have to be,” I said, even though the uncertainty was gnawing at me. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“I know,” he replied quietly. “Just... be careful out there, alright?”
I gave him a small smile. “I will.” But it wasn’t just the road I was worried about. It was everything—the distance, the time apart, the unknown. But we didn’t need to say all of that. The silence between us was filled with everything we couldn’t express in words.
We finished loading the horses into the trailer in a quiet routine, the familiar motions of saddling up and securing everything for the road. I moved with purpose, but there was a weight on my chest, a heaviness that wouldn’t leave.
Once Denim was settled, I grabbed my bags and stowed them in the truck. Ryan was still standing there, leaning against the side of the trailer, watching me. He didn’t come closer, didn’t make any move to hold me back. He just stood there, his eyes following every step.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life beneath me. I looked at Ryan one last time before pulling away, his silhouette growing smaller in the rearview mirror. The road stretched ahead of me, endless and unknown, but for the first time, I felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders.
I’d hoped Dad would have seen me off, but I knew better than to expect it. His refusal to support me was as firm as ever, and I could almost feel the tension in the air, the space between us left wide open by his absence. He wasn’t going to back me on this, not when he thought I was chasing a dream that didn’t fit his vision. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.
I pressed my hand over my heart, the same place where Kayce’s scar marked him, a constant reminder of the cost of living in this family. I hadn’t been punished the way he had when he left, but the sting of disapproval still lingered. It always did.
I looked out at the ranch one last time, the place I had always known, and felt a pang in my chest. I would miss having my family in the stands, cheering me on. But I was doing this for me, and they had their own lives to live. The ranch needed tending, and that was something none of us could ever escape. But I had my own path now, and it would take me far from here, at least for a while.
—--
The thousand-mile journey had been long and grueling, but I kept telling myself it would be worth it. Each passing mile felt like it added a little more weight to my shoulders, and by the time I pulled into the equestrian center, the exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. I could feel the fatigue in my eyes, my muscles sore from hours of sitting in the truck, but there was still one thing I had to do before I could rest.
The horses.
I parked the truck and trailer, glancing at Denim and the others in the rearview mirror. They'd been cooped up for far too long, and I could see the impatience in their eyes. I was their caretaker, their rider, and I had to make sure they were settled before I even thought about closing my own eyes for the night.
I climbed out of the truck and made my way to the security guard booth. He gave me a nod as I approached, and I returned a half-smile, too tired to do more. "Over there," he gestured toward the far side of the lot where the other competitors were parking. "You can let 'em out there."
"Thanks," I murmured, already heading in that direction.
I parked the truck and unhitched the trailer, letting the cool evening air wash over me. Denim nickered from inside the trailer, eager to stretch his legs, and I couldn’t blame him. The horses had been troopers through the long journey, but even they needed a break.
With each step toward the trailer, I could feel the tension in my chest ease. The horses would be alright for the night. Tomorrow, I’d tackle the championship, but for now, I could give them the attention they needed, and maybe, just maybe, find a moment to breathe.
I walked into the room, and Luxe didn’t even begin to cover it. The bed was a plush oasis, and the pillows looked like clouds begging me to sink into them. The temptation to collapse onto the bed and forget everything was almost overwhelming, but something caught my eye before I could give in.
A gift basket sat on the bar, neatly arranged with an assortment of snacks, toiletries, and a bottle of something strong. The card was simple, written in familiar handwriting: “Good Luck, Bitsy. From: Jamie.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My brother. He never said much, especially not in front of our father, but this—this was his way of showing he cared. He’d never openly defy Dad, but I knew better than anyone that he wanted me to succeed, even if he couldn’t say it aloud.
It was too late to call him, too late to thank him for the gesture, but that small act of kindness was enough to settle my nerves a bit. No matter how much distance there was between us, no matter how much our lives had changed, some things stayed the same. Jamie cared. Even if he couldn’t show it the way I needed him to.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the card in my hand grounding me. Tomorrow was another step forward, and I was ready for it, despite everything else.
I changed into my pajamas, the soft fabric a welcome change after the long day of travel. The bed seemed to swallow me whole, the plush mattress a tempting escape. I sank into it with a deep sigh, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. Just as I was starting to relax, my phone buzzed in my hand, and I smiled when I saw his name on the screen.
“Hey, baby,” Ryan’s voice came through clearly, warm and familiar. “I wanted to catch you before you went to sleep and say good night.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, his voice washing over me like a gentle wave. It was a reminder of home, of what I was working toward. The championship was right in front of me, but in that moment, all I could think about was the man waiting back at the ranch. The distance between us seemed to close with each word he spoke, the sound of his voice grounding me.
“I miss you,” I whispered, letting myself feel the ache in my chest.
“I miss you too, more than you know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “But you’re gonna do great. I believe in you.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining him there beside me, offering comfort and strength in the way only Ryan could. I didn’t need anything else to remind me of why I was here, but hearing his voice made everything feel just a little more manageable.
“I’ve got a surprise headed your way in the morning,” Ryan’s voice was laced with a playful smile, even over the phone.
“Surprise?” I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piquing. “What is it?”
“That wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you,” he teased.
I laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through me at his lighthearted tone. “I can’t hardly wait,” I yawned, the exhaustion finally catching up with me. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Alex. Get some sleep. If I don’t talk to you again before the big day, just know I’m thinking about you.”
His words settled over me like a comforting blanket, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting them sink in. Despite the nerves and everything ahead, I knew I wasn’t alone.
Sleep came quickly, the weight of the day finally letting me rest. Morning arrived with the first rays of light filtering through the curtains. A sharp knock at the door pulled me awake, and I rubbed my eyes before swinging it open.
Standing there in the doorway, silhouetted against the hallway light, was a familiar cowboy.
Travis Wheatley.
He’d sold me my first barrel racing horse—or, more accurately, sold it to my father, and I’d gone on to buy every horse from him since. Travis was brash, no-nonsense, and always had a way of making his presence felt. Of course, he also ran the rodeo circuit, which meant he knew his way around the sport as well as anyone.
I raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “So... are you my surprise?”
“I’ve surprised many women,” Travis said, his gaze running over me as I stood there in my oversized sleep shirt. “But I was expecting something a little... different.”
I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “I wasn’t expecting company this early,” I shot back. “But I think there’s coffee or something around here. I can make some if you’re interested.”
Travis smirked, clearly amused by my lack of concern for his early arrival. “Coffee sounds good.”
I fumbled with the coffee maker, popping the K-cup into place before quickly heading to the bathroom to get dressed and brush my teeth. A splash of makeup, just enough to feel a little more awake, and I was back in the room.
Travis looked up as I entered, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You might wow the judges more in that little T-shirt you had on last night,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. He handed me a card, the edges slightly frayed, with my number for the event and the order of events printed neatly. Barrel racing, roping, and finally trick riding.
“Can you actually eat before you spin your little horses in circles for the judges?” I teased, a smirk playing on my lips. “Or does it just make you sick?”
“Very funny,” he grinned, unbothered. “Come on, let’s get some food.”
“I promise I won’t stand too close to you,” I said as we walked down the hall, rode the elevator, and headed into the lobby restaurant. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from your next new ex-wife. Though,” I added, eyeing him as we were seated, “they might think I’m your daughter.”
“So how’d you get John to agree to let you come?” Travis asked after the waitress took our order.
“I didn’t,” I said, fumbling with the napkin in my lap. “Dad forbade me to come. Well… I didn’t exactly listen.”
“I always knew you were a rebel,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat.
I tried to focus on my food, but the nerves kept me from enjoying it. Not that I’d ordered much in the first place. Between the nerves and the long ride, I knew I shouldn’t eat too much.
I reached for the check, but Travis grabbed it first. “I’ll consider this an investment.”
“An investment? If I knew you were paying, I would’ve ordered more than fruit and oatmeal,” I teased, letting him be the gentleman. Even though I knew that wasn’t exactly in his nature.

The arena was already booming when I arrived. The air vibrated with excitement, and I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady my nerves. I couldn’t be any more ready than I was. Years of riding and practicing had led me here. This was the big leagues.
I led my barrel horse, Belle, into the waiting area. Denim had grace; Belle had speed. I ran my hands down her chestnut flanks, checking the straps and making sure everything was perfect. I was riding 6th, midway down the list, but my heart pounded like it had nowhere else to go.
Climbing onto Belle, I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me. We shot through the gates with speed and precision, rounding the barrels close and fast. My heart still thumped loudly as they called my time—16.74 seconds. The fastest so far, but there were still fifteen girls behind me.
The quiet hum of the bar felt a world away from the roar of the arena. I took another sip from my bottle, the cool water a stark contrast to the heat of the competition. On the TV screen above, two girls had beaten my time. One knocked over a barrel, though, earning a penalty, and I barely squeezed into second place. My nerves had gotten the best of me on the roping course too.
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a slow breath. I wondered if the boys in the bunkhouse were watching me on their TV, cheering me on. Or if my father had caught my run. Would he even acknowledge it? Would he ever see me as more than just a girl who defied his wishes to chase a dream he didn’t approve of?
The cool air of the arena felt electric as I approached the final round. Changing into my flashy pink form-fitting trick-riding costume, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of all my preparation behind me. The costume wasn’t just for show—it was a part of my armor. The glittery ‘Y’ painted on Denim’s rear wasn’t just for flair, though. It was my tribute to Yellowstone, a symbol of where I came from, and the very thing that pushed me to this moment.
Denim stood tall, his muscles rippling beneath the glittery design. I patted him gently, calming the both of us, my heart syncing with the rhythm of his breathing. I slid into the saddle and tightened my grip, ready for the performance of a lifetime.
Travis’s nod was all I needed. He swung open the gate, and the world outside seemed to shrink as I rode into the arena. The booming crowd fell silent in my mind, replaced by the thumping beat of McBride and the Ride’s "Trick Rider" playing through the speakers. It was my soundtrack.
I was in the zone now. I flipped, swung, and held my balance effortlessly, each trick smooth and precise. The routine felt like a blur of practiced perfection—each move instinctive and natural. I lost myself in the rhythm, the adrenaline coursing through me. The seconds felt like hours, but then, just as quickly, the four minutes were over, and I dismounted with a flourish.
The crowd erupted. The cheers rang in my ears, and the flood of emotion came crashing down like a wave. I had done it. I had outperformed everyone in level 4 tricks, and I’d won. After all the sweat, tears, and sacrifices I’d made, this was my moment. And it felt sweeter than anything I had ever imagined.

Chapter Text

The days following my big win were a whirlwind of calls and congratulations. Kayce was the first. He shared his pride in me, and we talked about how big Tate was getting. I promised to visit them again when I got back—though I wasn’t sure when that would be. Jamie and Lee both called, their voices filled with pride. Even Beth reached out, which was a surprise in itself.

But Dad didn’t call.

Days turned into weeks, and the silence from him grew heavier. I knew why. I had defied him, and this was the price I’d pay. Disobedience in the Dutton family didn’t come without consequences. Now, I didn’t even know if I could go back home—or if I’d be welcomed there at all.

I supposed I could call him, apologize, and promise never to disobey again. But that wasn’t me. I wasn’t the kind of girl to go running back, desperate for Daddy’s approval. That part of me had long since burned away. I had arenas full of people screaming my name now, cheering for what I could do. But no matter how loud the applause, it didn’t fill the same void.

And then there was Ryan.

Not being able to go home also meant not seeing him. We talked on the phone nearly every day, his voice a bittersweet lifeline. But we hadn’t made any promises. I had no claim over him, and he had no obligation to wait for me. Hell, he’d never even said the words back.

I didn’t regret telling him how I felt. Still, the ache of not seeing him grew sharper with every mile that stretched between us.
Travis stuck with me on the circuit for the first few months, but eventually, he had to head back to Texas. That left me alone—or at least without anyone, I could fully depend on.
I ended up befriending a barrel racer named Laramie. She was a few years younger than me but could ride circles around most of the competition. She was also a magnet for cowboys, charming them left and right. Laramie reminded me of my sister, Beth—if Beth hadn’t carried the weight of our mother’s loss. Laramie had a lightness about her, a carefree spirit Beth lost long ago.

“Hey, girl,” Laramie called, poking her head into my trailer. “Some of the guys want to take us out for a few beers. You can’t stay cooped up all the time.”

I let out a sigh. I’d passed on so many nights out, I couldn’t say no again. People were starting to talk, giving me looks that suggested I thought I was better than them.

“Okay,” I said, pulling on a clean shirt. “But don’t expect me to bring one of them back here with me.”

“I know, I know,” she teased, grinning as she leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve got your cowboy back home. But, Alex, you’ve gotta loosen up. You’re too young to be tied down.”

Her words stung more than I let on. She wasn’t wrong—I was young. And Ryan and I hadn’t made any promises. We hadn’t even said I love you to each other. Well, I had, but he hadn’t said it back. It wasn’t that I doubted his feelings; he showed me in other ways. But the longer I stayed on the road, the more those doubts crept in.

I missed him—his quiet strength, the way he smiled just for me, the feel of his arms wrapped around me. But what if being apart changed things? What if the distance made him realize I wasn’t worth waiting for?

“Earth to Alex,” Laramie said, waving a hand in front of my face. “You coming, or what?”

I forced a smile and grabbed my jacket. “Yeah, I’m coming. Let’s go.”

Maybe a night out would take my mind off everything, even if it was just for a little while.

I was having fun, well the most fun I’d had outside of the arena in a while. I laughed and drank a few beers. I beat one of the bronc riders at a game of pool. Though he may have let me win, I watched him more than once look down the front of my shirt as I leaned over to make a shot.

“Let’s get a picture for the gram,” Laramie said as she ushered us to squeeze together so she could snap our picture. The bronc rider placed his arm around my waist and his hand rested on my hip. I stepped away from him as soon as she snapped the photo.

“I don’t want to give you the wrong idea,” I told him, “I have someone.” That was sort of true. It was too complicated to really get into now.

“That’s alright,” he smiled, “I gotta wife back home too. But she ain’t here.”

“Well, I’m not interested, whether he’s here or not,” my words were sharp.

“Can’t fault a guy for trying,” his eyes scan me over, “suit yourself.”

I didn’t dignify that with a response. I leaned over and whispered in Laramie’s ear that I was ready to go back. Gave her an excuse about needing to train first thing in the morning.
Laramie frowned, her eyes darting between me and the bronc rider before nodding reluctantly.

"Alright, let me finish this drink, and I’ll walk out with you."

I could feel the bronc rider’s gaze lingering as I stepped back, pulling on my jacket. My stomach churned—not from the beer, but from the way he so easily dismissed his vows. It reminded me of all the reasons I kept my guard up in places like this.
Laramie drained her glass and looped her arm through mine as we headed for the door.

"You okay?" she asked, her tone softer than usual.

I shrugged, trying to shake it off.

"Yeah, just not in the mood for... that tonight."

She nodded, but I could see the curiosity in her eyes. I was grateful she didn’t press further. The night air hit us as we stepped outside, and I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head.
As we walked toward the trailer park, Laramie gave me a playful nudge.

"You know, you don’t always have to be the good girl, Alex. A little fun won’t kill you."

I laughed softly, though it didn’t reach my eyes.

"I’m not looking for fun, Laramie. Not that kind, anyway."

Her smile faded slightly, and she gave me a sideways glance.

"Still hung up on your cowboy back home?"

I didn’t answer right away. The truth was, I didn’t know if I was hung up or just hopeful. I still hadn’t heard those words from him, and part of me wondered if I ever would.
"Something like that," I finally said.
We walked in silence the rest of the way, but my mind was loud, replaying the night’s events and wondering if Ryan would even care enough to be jealous—or if he’d just let me go.
—--
The early morning training session wasn’t a lie, I rode Denim around the training yard for over an hour. I had to get there before the barrel racers set up to train. After hopping down and leading Denim to his stall I pulled my phone from my bag.

127 missed notifications. All from Instagram. All on that stupid picture Laramie uploaded. The one she tagged “Rodeo dreams and poolside scheming!”

My stomach dropped as I scrolled through the notifications. The photo Laramie had posted wasn’t bad by itself—just me, her, and a few others from last night squeezed together. But it was the comments that sent my heart racing.

"Looks like somebody’s having fun without her cowboy. 👀"
"Watch out, Alex. That bronc rider’s trouble. 😂"
"Guess the guy back home doesn’t matter on the road, huh?"

I closed the app and leaned against the stall door, trying to calm the sudden tightness in my chest. It wasn’t true—none of it was—but the picture and the comments painted a different story. One I wasn’t sure Ryan would believe.
Before I could think it through, my phone buzzed with a call. Ryan.

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the accept button. I took a deep breath and answered.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Alex,” his tone was clipped, “you got a second to explain what’s going on?”

I winced. Of course, he’d seen it.

“It’s nothing, Ryan. Just a stupid picture. Laramie wanted to post something, and I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Yeah, but that guy—”

“Means nothing,” I cut him off. “I told him I wasn’t interested. End of story.”
There was silence on the other end for a beat too long.

“I want to believe you,” he finally said, his voice softer, “but it’s hard when I see stuff like that.”

“It’s not fair, Ryan,” I said, frustration bubbling up. “I’m out here chasing my dream, and I’m doing it alone. I’m not running around or screwing up. I’m just... trying to make this work.”
He sighed heavily.

“I know. It’s just—seeing that picture... I don’t know, Alex.”

“Then trust me,” I said firmly. “Because that’s all I’ve got to give you right now.”

Another long pause.

“Alright,” he said, though it sounded more like a concession than agreement. “I’ll trust you. Just... be careful, okay?”

“I will,” I promised.

But as I hung up, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us—and not for the better.
—-
Eighteen months. It felt like both a lifetime and a blur. The rodeo circuit had become my world—early mornings, late nights, and the endless hum of the road in between. I’d built a name for myself, with wins stacking up and sponsors taking notice. But success came at a cost.

Ryan’s calls had dwindled to almost nothing. At first, I told myself it was just the distance, the busyness of his life on the ranch. But as the weeks stretched into months, I couldn’t ignore the growing void.
I stared at my phone, scrolling through old messages, rereading his words. “I miss you.” “Wish you were here.” But the most recent texts lacked the warmth they once held, reduced to short replies that left me feeling colder than the empty hotel rooms I stayed in.

I’d tried to call him yesterday—straight to voicemail. I told myself he’d get back to me when he could. That he still cared. But the silence was louder than any cheering crowd I’d performed for.
My chest tightened as I shoved the phone back into my bag. The next stop on the circuit loomed ahead, but for the first time, it didn’t feel like enough. Winning didn’t fill the ache. The roar of the crowd didn’t drown out the nagging question:
What if I’d lost more than just time on this journey? What if I’d lost him?

I checked my horses and loaded them into the trailer, preparing them for the next stop, when my phone rang. It was Kayce.

“Hey Alex,” he said, “how’s things?”
“They’re going good. Wrangler sponsored my last leg of the circuit, so I’ll get some free jeans, too. They want me to model them,” I rolled my eyes, remembering all the girls modeling jeans photos the guys in the bunkhouse tried to hide when I came in.
“That’s awesome,” he said, I could hear the worry in his voice, “Dad wants to get to know Tate.”
“What does Monica think about it?” I asked.
“She’s nervous about it but knows that family is important,” he responded. “That’s why I called. I don’t know if I could face going back to the ranch if you weren’t there.”
“Lee and Jamie are there, you don’t need me,” I was just as nervous as he was about going home again. We both defied our father and had to face the wrath of that.
“It’s not the same,” he said, “I understand if you’re not ready to face him again. Just like everything else we can do it together.”

I felt a lump form in my throat as Kayce’s words sank in. His understanding, his willingness to support me, meant more than he could possibly know. I wasn’t ready to go back yet.
“I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to face him,” I admitted quietly. “But… if you can face him after what happened, maybe I can try. For you. For Tate.”

Kayce’s relief was palpable over the line. “You don’t have to do it for me, Alex. Just know that when you’re ready, we’ll be here.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, taking in the weight of his words. “Thanks, Kayce.”
“Anytime, sis,” he replied, the love in his voice clear.

As I sat in the truck, the road ahead felt a little less lonely and I was going home soon. I wasn’t sure if I could call it that anymore but I didn’t know anything else.

I was ready for a break, to settle back into the normalcy of ranch life. Even if it did mean I’d have to face my father. I felt my heart in my throat when I crossed the threshold of my father’s ranch. I was nervous and excited. I missed my brothers and even Beth. I pulled my truck and trailer up to the barn.

“Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Lloyd spoke. The old ranch hand always made me smile.

“Hey, Lloyd,” I said, stepping out of the truck with a grin. “Miss me?”

“Every damn day,” he said, his weathered face breaking into a smile. “Figured you’d be too busy winnin’ to remember us lowly ranch folk.”

I laughed, the tension in my chest easing a bit. “Never too busy for this place. Or for you.”

Lloyd looked me over, his sharp eyes catching everything. “You look good, kid. Different, but good. Rodeo life suits you?”

“It has its ups and downs,” I admitted, glancing at my horses in the trailer. “But I needed to be back. Even if it’s just for a while.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a time,” Lloyd said, his tone turning a bit more serious. “Your dad’s been in a mood lately. Had an accident. He’s alright just you know. Don’t let it get to you, alright?”

“I’ll try,” I said, though my stomach twisted at the thought of facing my father. “How are my brothers?”

“Still breathin’,” he said with a wink. “Jamie’s buried in paperwork, and Beth’s... well, Beth.”

That made me laugh despite myself. “Sounds about right. Kayce here yet?”

Lloyd patted my shoulder. “I ain’t seen him yet. Why don’t you go get settled? I’ll make sure your horses are taken care of.”

“Thanks, Lloyd,” I said, grateful for the familiar kindness.

As I walked toward the house, each step felt heavier. The ranch hadn’t changed much, but I had. I just hoped I’d find a place here again.

Chapter Text

The fearless rodeo champion I had become faded into the background as I opened the heavy oak door to my father’s house. The faint creak of the hinges echoed in the quiet, and the scent of aged wood, leather, and faint smoke wrapped around me like an old, familiar blanket. The glint of the Y etched in the stained glass above the door cast fragmented light onto the polished hardwood floor, a subtle reminder of the legacy I had tried to outrun. Even after being away for almost two years, it still smelled like home.
“Kayce ask you to be a buffer?” my father’s deep voice cut through the stillness, pulling my gaze to where he stood, hands clasped behind his back, near the fireplace.
I hesitated, letting the weight of his question settle. “I told him he already had the best buffer with Tate,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “But he wanted me to be here anyway.”
“I needed you here,” he said quietly, turning his head to meet my eyes. The flicker of the fire illuminated his face, softening the hard lines I had always associated with him. For the first time, I noticed something I’d never seen before—sadness, raw and unguarded. “I need my family here.”
“I’m here now, Dad.” My voice was steady, but my chest ached at the sight of him like this. He had been unshakable when Mom passed, stoic and composed even as the rest of us fell apart. Yet now, his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and the cracks in his armor were visible.
“For as long as you want me here,” I added, stepping further into the room. My boots thudded softly against the floor as the warmth of the fire seeped into my skin.
“All right,” he said simply, his voice steady but subdued. “Dinner will be ready soon. Get cleaned up.”
I nodded, unsure if I should say more, and turned toward the stairs. The faint creak of the steps beneath my boots was a sound I hadn’t realized I missed until now. Each step felt heavier, weighted with memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to confront.
When I reached the top and pushed open the door to my old room, it was as though time had frozen. The air was faintly stale, carrying the scent of dust and pine from the furniture polish Mom used to swear by. My work boots, worn and scuffed from countless hours on the ranch, still lay kicked over near the back wall, exactly where I had left them.
My gaze drifted to the desk. The book I had stopped reading sat there, face down, pages slightly curled from where I had pressed it too hard. I trailed my fingers over its spine, brushing away a fine layer of dust. It was surreal, like stepping into a photograph of my past.
The bedspread, a faded patchwork quilt my mother had made, was still neatly tucked as though she’d done it herself. The faint scent of her lavender lotion lingered, almost imperceptible but unmistakable. My chest tightened. For a moment, I just stood there, absorbing it all—the stillness, the familiarity, and the ache of knowing the only thing that had truly changed in this room was me.
I slipped off my boots and sank onto the edge of the bed, letting the weight of the day settle over me. It was strange how the smallest things—a misplaced boot, an unfinished book—could hold so much of who I used to be.
After showering and changing into clean clothes, I paused by the window, wiping the fogged glass with my sleeve. The barn stood stark against the dusky sky, its silhouette flanked by the distant bunkhouse. A soft glow from its windows hinted at life and routine carrying on, unchanged in my absence. I wondered if Ryan knew I was back.
Of course, he knew. How could he not? News of the prodigal daughter’s return likely spread faster than wildfire out here. Everyone probably had their own version of the story by now, but the bigger question lingered: would Ryan care? Or had the time and distance carved a gulf too wide to bridge?
I pushed the thought aside with a sigh. There was no sense in stirring up old ghosts when I hadn’t even faced the living ones yet. Family first. I had to get through dinner before I even thought about dealing with him.
I made my way downstairs, the soft murmur of voices drifting through the house. The dining room came into view, its warmth spilling into the hall. I stopped in the doorway, my stomach knotting at the sight of them all.
Lee sat to Dad’s right, as he always had, his posture as rigid as ever. Jamie was beside him, his expression a carefully curated mix of indifference and discomfort. On Dad’s left sat Beth, sharp-eyed and leaning back in her chair with a glass of wine in hand.
And then there was Kayce’s seat, empty but loud in its absence, like a wound no one dared to acknowledge.
I slipped into my place beside Beth, the familiar scrape of the chair on the floor breaking the tension in my chest. Her sharp glance flicked to me, assessing, before she smirked and muttered something under her breath about my timing.
The table was the same, the faces were the same, but something about the air was heavier now. This wasn’t just dinner; it was the beginning of everything I’d been avoiding for the past two years.
caught the subtle glances between Lee and Jamie, the kind that spoke louder than words to anyone paying attention. Something was going on, something they weren’t telling me. My chest tightened with that old familiar frustration—being left in the dark wasn’t new, but it stung all the same.
Turning to Beth, who never held anything back, I leaned in slightly. “What the hell is going on?” I asked, keeping my voice low but firm.
She tilted her glass, swirling the wine lazily before taking a slow sip, her sharp blue eyes cutting to me. “You may not have noticed while you were out living your Rodeo Barbie dream,” she began, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “but things have been heating up around here. They’re still trying to take the ranch.”
My stomach dropped. “Who’s they this time?”
“Before, it was some yuppie developer with big plans for condos,” she said, her tone as bitter as the wine she was drinking. “Now, it’s the people behind that goddamn Paradise Valley resort that went up next door. They’ve got more money than God and no sense of boundaries.”
I let her words settle, my gaze drifting to Lee and Jamie again. Lee stared at his plate like it might answer his prayers, while Jamie shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between the rest of us.
“They’ve been coming at us from every angle,” Beth continued, leaning closer. “Lawsuits, buyouts, even sending their sleazeball reps to schmooze at the local meetings. Every day, it’s something new.”
“And Dad?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Her expression softened briefly, though her voice stayed sharp. “He’s holding on, but it’s taking a toll. We all see it, even if he won’t admit it.”
“If being run off the fucking road is a slight toll,” Jamie muttered, his fork clinking against his plate.
I froze, my eyes narrowing as I turned to him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Beth sighed, setting her wine glass down with deliberate care. “Dad didn’t tell you, of course. Two weeks ago, he was run off the road by a semi. Belonged to Paradise Valley.”
My stomach twisted, a mix of anger and disbelief clawing at my insides. “Are you kidding me?”
Jamie shook his head, his jaw tight. “Wish I was. They didn’t even bother to hide it—logo on the side, clear as day..”
My fists clenched under the table, the familiar fury of helplessness bubbling up. “And what, nothing’s being done about it? What’s the plan? You’ve got legal options, right?”
Beth snorted, leaning back in her chair. “You think they care about legal? They’ve got lawyers on retainer who could bury us six feet under with paperwork alone. Jamie’s way out of his league. That’s why I’m here.”
“Beth—” Jamie started, his voice defensive, but she waved him off.
“I’m just calling it like I see it. This isn’t just a land grab; this is a declaration of war.”
I turned to Dad, who had been silent through it all, his gaze fixed on the table. Finally, he looked up, the weight of the years etched deeply into his face. “We’ll handle it,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “But we need to be smart. This isn’t just about fighting back—it’s about surviving long enough to win.”
His eyes locked on mine, steady and unyielding. “I need you here to help your brothers and sister. Keep this place running, keep the family strong. We’ve fought for this land for generations, and I’ll be damned if we lose it now. But we don’t win this by charging in guns blazing. We win by being better—by being tougher.”
I swallowed hard, the knot in my throat tightening. “Okay, Dad,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper but full of resolve. “I’m here. Whatever you need.”
“I need you to convince Kayce to come home too,” Dad said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “You’re his soft spot.”
I huffed a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “I think that spot changed when he got married and had a son,” I replied, my tone laced with something between honesty and regret. Kayce and I were twins, as close as two people could be growing up. We shared everything—our thoughts, our dreams, even the burdens this family heaped on us. “We’re both different now, Dad.”
He didn’t argue, just gave me that long, measuring look of his, the kind that said he knew I wasn’t done talking.
I leaned back in my chair, staring down at my hands. “I don’t know if I can bring him back. Or if I even want to.” My voice dropped, edged with frustration. “It’s all chaos and drama. Always has been. You know as well as I do that whatever we do to retaliate is going to blow back on us. On him. On his family.”
Dad’s jaw tightened, the flicker of the fire catching in his eyes as he studied me. “He belongs here. You both do. This place is who we are—it’s in your blood, in his. You can’t just walk away from that.”
I looked away, out the window, where the faint glow of the barn lights barely reached the dining room. “Maybe not. But it’s not just his blood anymore, Dad. He’s got Monica. He’s got Tate. And what happens if bringing him back here gets them hurt?”
The question hung heavy in the air, and for once, Dad didn’t have an immediate answer.
“I’ll talk to him,” I finally said, though the words felt hollow. “But I’m not making any promises. If he doesn’t want to come back, I’m not going to twist his arm.”
Dad nodded slowly, his face unreadable. “Just try,” he said.
I gave a small, reluctant nod in return, though the knot in my stomach told me this was a battle I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight.
Dinner was another one of those dinners we didn’t actually eat. The plates sat on the table, untouched, as the conversation spiraled into arguments and uneasy silences. At times, I felt bad for Gator. He poured his heart into cooking meals that were destined to sit in the fridge as leftovers, slowly forgotten.
I stepped out onto the porch, the cool night air biting at my skin. The horizon stretched endlessly before me, the faint silhouettes of rolling hills and grazing pastures fading into the darkness. This land—it was vast and unyielding. Even after spending my whole life here, there were parts of the ranch I hadn’t set foot on. But that didn’t matter. It was ours. It was everything we were fighting for.
The sharp, acrid scent of a Marlboro Light wafted toward me, announcing Beth’s presence before she even spoke.
“How long are you here for?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on the horizon.
“Until this is done,” she said simply, her voice low and even.
That was Beth. Always confident, always sure. She had this uncanny way of making you believe she held all the answers to the world’s problems, like she was the only one who could fix things. But I knew better. Underneath that armor of sarcasm and sharp edges, she was just as broken as the rest of us. Maybe more.
“You think we’ll win?” I asked, not entirely sure what I meant—this fight over the land, the struggle to keep the family together, or just life in general.
She took a long drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dark before she exhaled. “We don’t have a choice,” she said finally, her tone cold but resolute. “You either fight for what’s yours, or you let them take it. That’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it always will be.”
Her words settled over me, heavy and unrelenting.
“Doesn’t mean it won’t cost us,” I murmured.
Beth didn’t answer right away, just flicked her ash onto the porch railing and stared out into the distance. “Everything worth having costs something,” she said. “You just have to decide if it’s worth the price.”
I sank into my bed, the sheets cool against my skin, and let my mind drift back to the question I had been avoiding. Was it really worth it? The years I’d spent chasing a dream, leaving behind everything I knew. It had to be. It was my dream, the one I’d fought for and made come true. But now that I was back, staring at the life I left behind, it felt harder to reconcile.
The world I’d walked away from hadn’t stayed frozen in time, waiting for me to return. Things had moved on, changed in ways I couldn’t fully grasp yet. Could I go back to the way it was before? Could I find a way to pick up the pieces and put them all back together, just like they were? Or would there always be something lingering, something we couldn’t outrun? Something that would keep us from ever being the same again.
I must’ve drifted off somewhere between my thoughts, because when I finally opened my eyes, it was late. The sunlight was no longer streaming through the window. It had to be after eight. I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept past the sunrise, not since I was eight years old.
When I finally dragged myself out of bed, the quiet of the house was almost unsettling. I glanced at the clock—eight-thirty. I wasn’t used to the world still being at rest when I was awake. I stood there for a moment, staring at the door, unsure whether I was ready to face the day.
Over coffee, I listened as I was briefed on the latest mess—the cattle dispute with the reservation and the buffalo Dad had to purchase for the ceremony. I didn’t really understand it, but it was one of those traditions that had to happen, a symbolic gesture to represent the hunt. I nodded along, letting them talk, not wanting to interrupt with my own questions.
“You outta ride out with us, Alex,” Lee said, his voice playful but insistent. “Been forever since you’ve done some real cowboy shit.”
I raised an eyebrow, smirking as I looked over at him. “That’s cause I’m a girl, jerk,” I teased, but the smile I gave him was wide and genuine. The banter with Lee had always been easy. He never judged, never expected me to be anyone other than who I was. “But yeah, I’ll come. Can you get one of the guys to saddle me a horse?”
I wasn’t ready to face Ryan yet. The thought of running into him by accident, of having to speak to him, made my stomach knot. It had been a long time since we’d been anything other than memories. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to reopen that chapter yet.
Lee gave me a knowing look, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Sure thing,” he said, his tone softening. It was as though he could read my thoughts and knew exactly what I wasn’t saying. Lee was perceptive like that.
I couldn’t help but wonder how much he knew. He’d figured out who my cowboy was the morning after Ryan and I had our first night under the stars, the kind of night that left its mark, even in the most subtle ways. Lee had also pushed hard to have Ryan considered for Livestock Agent, which, deep down, I knew was the best move. Ryan knew the land, the people, the way things worked here. He had more experience than most, only Lloyd and Rip had been here longer.
I just hoped Lee didn’t do it for me. I never wanted him to make decisions based on me, even though part of me knew he probably already had.
I braided my hair loosely down my back, plopped my hat on my head, and stepped outside the front door. The brisk morning air hit me, and I stopped, almost in awe. The view from the front porch stretched out in every direction, bathed in the golden light of the rising sun. I had almost forgotten how breathtaking it was—the rolling hills, the distant mountains, the endless sky. It had a way of making everything else seem small, insignificant.
It was moments like this that reminded me why generations of Duttons had fought, bled, and died for this land. It wasn’t just property; it was a legacy, a piece of who we were.
I walked toward the saddled horses, catching sight of Jamie, who looked slightly out of place in jeans and boots instead of his usual suit. “No suit and boots today?” I teased, flashing him a grin. “Do you even remember how to ride?”
Jamie glanced up from adjusting his saddle, his expression half amused, half defensive. “I remember,” he said with a small smirk.
“Good, because I’d hate to see you fall on your ass,” I shot back, the playful tone in my voice making him chuckle under his breath.
I tightened the cinch on my horse’s saddle, feeling the weight of his gaze.
“What about you?” Jamie asked, his voice quieter now. “When was the last time you just rode without performing?”
I froze for a moment, my hands stilling on the leather straps. He wasn’t wrong. Most of my time in the saddle over the last few years had been under the bright lights of the rodeo arena, every movement judged, every second counted. Riding used to be simple—me and a horse, nothing else.
I shrugged, trying to brush off the heaviness of the question. “Guess we’ll see if I remember how today,” I said, forcing a grin as I swung myself up into the saddle.
Jamie gave me a look, one of those rare moments when he saw right through me. He didn’t press, though. Instead, he mounted his horse, settling into the saddle with the awkwardness of someone who hadn’t done it in a while but wasn’t ready to admit it.
“Let’s hope you’re not as rusty as you look,” I quipped, nudging my horse forward.
“Same goes for you, Rodeo Barbie,” he shot back, and I laughed despite myself.
I paused, the reins slack in my hands, as a familiar truck rumbled up the driveway.
Kayce.
The sight of my twin stepping out of that truck felt like a piece of me was found, a piece I hadn’t even realized was missing. He moved with that same deliberate slowness he always had, a calm steadiness that seemed to say he was in no rush for anything. But now, Tate was trailing behind him, his small hand clutching Kayce’s as they made their way toward Dad.
For a moment, I just watched. Kayce was home, at least for now. I knew why he was here—to let Dad get to know his grandson. And I knew my part in all of this, the role Dad had given me. I was supposed to convince Kayce to come back for good, to bring him back into the fold.
With a sigh, I swung down off my horse, handing the reins to Lloyd, who was busy helping Dad saddle his own horse.
Dad’s expression was hard to read, as usual, but I caught the flicker of awe in his eyes as he looked at Tate. As much as John Dutton tried to keep his emotions in check, family was everything to him. It always had been, even if he showed it in ways that weren’t always easy to see.
I watched as Dad hoisted Tate up onto the front of his saddle, his usually stern face softening just enough to remind me that, at the end of the day, he was a grandfather too.
Turning my attention back to Kayce, I crossed the space between us. He looked up as I approached, a small smile tugging at his lips. There were no witty jabs this time—Lee and Jamie could handle that.
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He hesitated for just a moment before returning it, the way he always had.
“I missed you,” I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them.
Kayce didn’t say anything right away, but I felt him squeeze me just a little tighter. “Missed you too,” he finally said, his voice low and warm.
“Hey, Kayce,” Jamie called, his voice carrying across the open field. “Grab a horse, let’s go.”
I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips as we headed out toward the pasture to start rounding up the buffalo. The saddle beneath me felt like home, familiar and steady, even if today’s task was far removed from what I’d grown used to. This wasn’t about rodeo glory—it was about family, tradition, and the land.
I stayed close to my brothers, finding comfort in their presence. Even so, I couldn’t help but let my gaze wander over the group of ranch hands riding with us, searching for a face I wasn’t sure I wanted to see. I knew Ryan was here—I could feel it, the way you just know someone important is nearby—but today wasn’t the day for that confrontation.
“The buffalo will hold here,” Jamie said, pulling me from my thoughts. He turned to me with a half-smile. “You wanna join us at the river? Do a little fishing?”
Fishing wasn’t my thing, but the thought of being by the river, away from everything else, sounded like the exact kind of distraction I needed. My brothers had a way of looking out for me, even when they didn’t realize they were doing it.
“Yeah,” I said, nudging my horse forward.
We strolled to the river at an easy pace, Tate now perched in front of Kayce on his saddle. His laugh echoed across the water as Kayce handed him a fishing rod, helping him cast from horseback. The scene was pure, simple—one of those rare moments where life felt like it could pause, even if just for a little while.
I wasn’t much for fishing, though. After a while, I tied my horse to a nearby tree and wandered to the bank, letting the sun warm my face as I sat and watched. They were hooting and hollering in no time, each fish reeled in bigger than the last. It was the kind of thing we used to do as kids, and for a moment, it felt like time had folded in on itself.
They’d need a fire soon, to dry their clothes and cook their catch, so I busied myself gathering kindling and getting one started. As the flames crackled to life, I leaned back, letting the sounds of the river and my family’s laughter wash over me.
We sat around the fire as the smell of roasted fish wafted through the air, the aluminum foil crackling softly in the heat.
“Don’t worry, Bitsy,” Lee said with a teasing grin, poking at the foil with a stick. “I’ll share with you. Kayce’s catch wouldn’t even fill a mouse.”
I rolled my eyes, smirking as I leaned back on my elbows. “Whatever would I do without you?” I shot back.
Lee grinned wider, looking altogether too pleased with himself. “Starve, probably.”
“Looked to me like Tate caught the biggest one,” I added, glancing over at my nephew.
Tate sat cross-legged next to Kayce, a proud look lighting up his face. But before he could agree, he pointed sharply at Jamie. “Naw, it was him,” he said with all the defiance of an eight-year-old, his finger wagging in Jamie’s direction. “Though mine was the next biggest!”
We all laughed, even Jamie, who threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll take the credit if I have to,” he said, shaking his head.
“You mean you want the credit,” Kayce chimed in, his voice full of amusement.
Jamie shot him a look, but his smirk gave him away. “I was being modest.”
“Since when?” Lee asked, his tone dry as the Montana air.
The firelight flickered across their faces as they continued ribbing each other, the banter flowing as naturally as the river behind us. Tate looked back and forth between his uncles, his grin wide as he soaked it all in. I stayed quiet, content to just sit and listen, my heart full in a way I hadn’t expected.
These were the moments that made it all worth it—the fights, the chaos, the never-ending weight of being a Dutton. For all its struggles, this was what we were fighting to protect.
“Alright, kids,” I said, breaking into their bickering with a grin. “Let’s see if that fish is edible or if I need to start rationing granola bars.”
Lee shot me a look as he pulled the foil off one of the fish. “You doubt my skills, Bitsy?”
“Always,” I teased, stealing a piece of fish off his plate before he could stop me.
“It’s a good day,” Tate said, his voice quiet but confident as he took a big bite of his fish.
“Every day’s a good day, just like this,” Jamie added, leaning back against a tree and staring out at the river.
Kayce let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Who you kidding? I bet you haven’t been down here in years.”
Jamie shrugged, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Only thing we haven’t done in years is see you, Kayce,” he shot back, his tone pointed but not harsh.
The fire popped, filling the space where Kayce’s response might have been. He glanced down at Tate, his expression unreadable, before looking back at Jamie.
I knew this was my cue, the perfect moment to chime in and remind Kayce of all the things he’d missed out on while living with Monica on the Reservation. The holidays, the ranch traditions, the countless little moments that made this place home.
But the words wouldn’t come.
Because deep down, I understood.
Kayce wasn’t staying away because he didn’t love us or the ranch. He was staying away because he loved his family—his family with Monica and Tate. And because, whether we liked to admit it or not, our father had driven him to make that choice.
“Shit, I miss being young,” Lee laughed, wiping his hands on his jeans. “You wake up in the morning, and you just keep right on dreaming, right?”
Kayce didn’t miss a beat. “You’re 38 and living in your father’s house. Is that the dream? It sure ain’t mine.”
Lee’s grin turned sharp as he balled up a piece of foil and launched it at Kayce, who ducked just in time to avoid it hitting him square in the face.
“Hey!” Tate’s voice rang out, brimming with righteous indignation. “Don’t throw things at my dad, fucker!”
Before anyone could stop him, Tate flung his own foil—complete with fish—straight at Lee.
Lee toppled over, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. The rest of us weren’t far behind. I could feel the laughter bubbling up, uncontrollable, until I was clutching my sides.
“Don’t worry, bud,” I managed to say between breaths, turning to Tate. “They’re just brothers fighting. They’re not really mad at each other.”
Tate crossed his arms, clearly unconvinced, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “Still shouldn’t throw stuff,” he muttered, though the glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t entirely innocent in the matter either.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the ranch in shades of gold and amber, Kayce and Tate prepared to leave.
I gave Kayce a long hug, holding on just a little tighter than usual. “It’s good to see you,” I said quietly, my voice steady but full of meaning.
“You too,” he replied, his voice low.
I crouched down to Tate’s level, brushing a strand of hair out of his face before planting a kiss on his forehead. “Take care of your dad for me, okay?”
“I will,” he promised, puffing out his chest in that way only kids his age could, full of confidence and sincerity.
Kayce lifted Tate into the truck, giving me one last nod before climbing in himself. As they drove down the long dirt road leading away from the ranch, I stood there on the porch, watching until the taillights disappeared into the distance.
The laughter from earlier still lingered in the air, but now, it felt quieter—almost fragile.
Lee stepped up beside me, the silence between us comfortable. “You think he’ll come back?” he asked, his voice low.
I didn’t answer right away, my eyes still on the road. “I think he wants to,” I finally said. “But wanting and doing are two different things.”
Lee nodded, his jaw tightening slightly. “Yeah. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
As the last rays of sunlight faded, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything still to come. The fight for the ranch, the strain on our family—it all loomed ahead like a storm on the horizon.
“You doing alright being back here?” Lee asked, his voice softer than usual, breaking the quiet of the evening.
I shrugged, my gaze wandering toward the bunkhouse in the distance, its lights glowing faintly against the darkening sky. “I suppose,” I replied, though the knot in my stomach told me otherwise.
Lee followed my line of sight, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to face him tonight,” he said gently. “He’ll still be here tomorrow.”
I let out a quiet laugh, though it lacked humor. “It’s not about him being here or not. It’s about...what happens when I do. What if—” I stopped myself, shaking my head.
“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” Lee finished for me.
I sighed, crossing my arms and leaning against the porch railing. “Yeah. Or worse, what if he does? What if I open that door and everything we had...comes rushing back? I came back here to help the family, Lee. Not to get caught up in...in that.”
Lee leaned beside me, his expression thoughtful. “You know, for someone who’s busted her ass proving she’s tougher than any man in the rodeo, you sure do scare easy when it comes to matters of the heart.”
I shot him a glare, though the corners of my mouth twitched upward. “Don’t start with me, Lee.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve been through worse than this, Alex. You’re tougher than you think. But...you don’t have to do it all at once. Take your time.”
I nodded, his words settling something in me, even if just a little. “Thanks,” I said quietly.
Lee clapped a hand on my shoulder, his touch reassuring. “Don’t mention it. Now, come on. Let’s see if Gator left any of that pie for us.”
I followed him inside, but my thoughts lingered on the bunkhouse. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’d face him. But tonight, I’d take Lee’s advice and give myself a little more time to breathe.

Chapter Text

I sank into a deep dreamless sleep. I was glad my mind had finally shut up for a little while. There was only so much I could do. I couldn’t force Kayce to come home more than I could force things to work out with Ryan. It just had to happen.

The scent of biscuits baking stirred me from my slumber. I dressed quickly and headed down the steps to the dining room. The table full of eggs, biscuits, and bacon. Little bit a fruit to round it out. I’m sure that was Beth’s input.

I sank into a chair, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The smell of fresh biscuits and bacon made my stomach rumble, and for the first time in days, I felt a sense of calm.
Beth was already at the table, nursing a cup of coffee like it was her lifeline. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she teased without looking up.
“Morning,” I replied, grabbing a biscuit and slathering it with butter. “This looks...domestic. You didn’t cook, did you?”
She snorted, finally glancing my way. “As if. Gator’s a miracle worker. You should be grateful I even let fruit onto the table.”
“Letting fruit onto the table? Wow, Beth, you’ve changed,” I joked, earning a half-hearted glare.
Lee walked in, his boots clunking against the hardwood floor. “Glad you’re up, Alex. Thought we’d have to send a search party.”
“Funny,” I shot back, biting into the biscuit. “You’d miss me if I didn’t show up.”
Jamie was next to join, scrolling through his phone, likely already handling ranch business. He sat down with a grunt, grabbing a piece of bacon. Trying to find some legal way to get the cattle back from the reservation.

Dad entered last, his presence filling the room like always. “Good, everyone’s here,” he said gruffly, grabbing his usual spot at the head of the table. “Eat up. We’ve got a long day ahead.”
Beth rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, and the rest of us fell into a quiet rhythm, eating as the morning sunlight streamed through the windows. For a moment, it felt almost normal—like we weren’t fighting to hold onto the land, like the weight of the past wasn’t hanging over us.
After breakfast, the usual hum of ranch life picked up again. Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone finished eating, and Dad stood, coffee mug still in hand.
“Lee, you’ll handle the east pasture. Jamie, get me everything on that new chief before this afternoon’s meeting. Beth, you’re with me.” Dad paused, his gaze settling on me. “Alex, I need you to check on the cattle by the southern fence line. See if they’ve broken through again.”
“Sure,” I said, already planning to grab my horse and head out.
Beth smirked as she stood, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “First real work since you got back, huh?”
“Don’t you have someone to terrify?” I shot back, grinning.
She just laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she followed Dad out of the dining room.
I stayed behind, helping clear the table with Lee, who lingered longer than usual. He bumped my shoulder as we carried the dishes to the sink.
“You need me to have a horse saddled for you?” he asked.
“I think I can remember how to do it,” I retorted.
“You know the barn is still next to the bunkhouse, right?” he added casually, though the grin on his face said otherwise.
I stopped, narrowing my eyes at him. “I didn’t think y’all moved it while I was away. What are you getting at?”
“I’m just saying,” he teased, his grin widening. “Might as well rip the Band-Aid off.”
I froze for a moment, my stomach tightening at his words. Ryan. I didn’t need to ask to know exactly what—or who—he meant.
“Yeah, well, some wounds need more time to heal,” I muttered, turning back to the sink. The sound of running water filled the silence as I rinsed a plate, trying to push down the mix of nervousness and anticipation clawing at my chest.
Lee didn’t press, but his knowing smile lingered as he handed me another dish.
I sucked in a steadying breath as I headed toward the barn, my boots crunching against the dirt path. If luck was on my side, Rip had already sent the ranch hands out into the fields, and I could dodge any awkward run-ins for another day. Not forever—just a little longer.
The barn door creaked as I pushed it open, and I let out a relieved sigh. It was quiet. Empty. Just the faint scent of hay and leather, and the occasional shuffle of hooves.
But then I heard it—the uneven tapping of hooves on the barn floor. My heart sank as I looked toward the source of the noise. Denim, my horse, was being led out of his stall, and the person holding his reins made me stop in my tracks.
He looked about as much like a cowboy as a goat in a saddle. His hat was sitting crooked on his head, his jeans were so baggy they threatened to drop off his hips, and his boots squeaked with every step. Worst of all, he was holding Denim’s reins like he was afraid the horse might eat him.
I stepped forward, crossing my arms. “Who are you? And what in the hell do you think you’re doing with my horse?”
The “cowboy” froze like a deer in headlights, fumbling with Denim’s reins. “Uh, I—I’m Jimmy. Rip told me to saddle up a horse for the fence line.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, his face flushed red under the brim of his hat.
He froze mid-step, fumbling with the reins like they’d suddenly turned into snakes. “Uh, Rip told me to saddle up a horse for the fence line,” he stammered. “I—I didn’t know it was your horse.”
“Rip told you to grab a horse,” I said, stepping closer and gently taking Denim’s reins from him. “But I can guarantee he didn’t tell you to grab my horse. Denim’s a rodeo champion—he doesn’t go out in the fields to run cattle or whatever chore you’re doing today.”
Jimmy scratched the back of his neck, his face flushing red under the brim of his crooked hat. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Didn’t mean to step on any toes or… hooves.”
I let out a slow sigh, shaking my head as I led Denim toward the tack room. “Jimmy, rule number one: don’t touch a horse unless you know who it belongs to. Rule number two: Denim’s mine. Don’t even look at him without asking first.”
“Got it,” he said quickly, nodding so hard his hat nearly fell off. “Won’t happen again.”
I watched him shuffle off, his boots squeaking with every step until the barn door creaked shut behind him. Green, through and through.
Turning back to Denim, I patted his neck, murmuring under my breath, “Blissful avoidance or not, looks like today’s already off to an interesting start.”
I removed Denim’s saddle and got him settled back in his stall, making sure his feed trough was full of his favorites. “We’ll go out for a ride tomorrow, I promise. Today, I’ve got to work.” I got a snorted response in return. I suppose he was fine with the arrangement.
Finally, I made my way out to the south fence line, guiding the horse I’d chosen for the job. I rode along about three miles of fence line before I ran right into them.
The entire crew of ranch hands was standing in the field, digging post holes and running wire to replace the fence that had been knocked down. Avoidance was out the fucking window now.
“Mornin’, Alex,” Ryan called, looking up from his post with that damn smile of his.
It was too late to turn my horse around and run in the other direction. All I could do in the moment was man up and not let him see that he’d shattered my heart into a million pieces.
“Morning,” I finally managed, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “Came out to help. What needs doing?”
“Didn’t think this would be your kind of thing,” he said, his words carrying a slight edge. Was he trying to bait me into an argument? I wasn’t about to take the bait, not here, and definitely not in front of everyone.
I’d dug fence posts with my brothers for years before he even showed up. But I couldn’t throw that back at him. Not without sounding like a smart-ass.
I took a deep breath and nodded, focusing on the task. “I’m not one to shy away from work.” I grabbed the shovel, positioning it at the edge of the post hole.
Ryan didn’t respond immediately. His eyes lingered on me, and I could feel the weight of his gaze, like he was waiting for me to say more—waiting for me to crack. But I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
I drove the shovel into the earth with a force I hoped masked how tight my chest felt. The rhythm of work was grounding, even if it did nothing to stop the way my thoughts kept circling back to that night we’d shared—before everything fell apart.
After a few moments, Ryan stepped closer, pulling his own shovel from the ground. “You’re not doing it right,” he said, his voice low but firm.
I shot him a glance, eyebrow raised. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m serious,” he replied, his lips twitching into a half-smile, but there was something almost apologetic behind it. “Let me show you.”
I hesitated but handed him my shovel, trying to ignore the way my skin burned at the small act of closeness.
I bit my lip as I watched the way his arms flexed as he drove the shovel into the dirt. Stop it, Alex, I said to myself, you can’t fall back in again, not this quickly. But damn if he didn’t have good arms.
“Thanks,” I said back to him, “I think I’ve got it from here.”
“Do you?” he quirked a brow, “Where’s your gloves?”
“Gloves?” It didn’t register what I would need gloves for.
“You’ll fuck your hands all up if you keep going like that without them,” he said.
I glanced at my palms, I hadn’t thought of that. Hell I wasn’t planning on being out in the field fixing fence posts but here I was.
“Shit, I got so turned around by that new kid I didn’t think to grab any,” I knew he was right. The last thing I wanted was blisters on my hands.
“Oh, Jimmy?” he asked. “He’s um… interesting.”
“If you say so,” I responded, “if he touches Denim again, y’all might be down a ranch hand.”
Ryan reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of work gloves and held them out to me, “Here.” The coolness was back in his voice again.
“Thank you,” I said softly watching him move back to his work.
“Just don’t go breaking any nails, princess,” he called over his shoulder.

I couldn’t help the slight smirk that tugged at my lips. It was just like old times—back when I wasn’t so quick to push him away. But now, I just shoved it down, refusing to let it get to me.
“Don’t worry, Ryan. My nails are just fine,” I shot back, making sure my voice was steady as I dug my shovel into the ground.
But it felt harder than it should have, like every word I said was laced with something unsaid. The awkwardness in the air was thicker than I wanted it to be, and I hated how it clung to me now. I glanced up at him again, working with that same easy confidence he always had, but there was something else behind his eyes. Something I couldn’t quite figure out.
I focused on the fence post I was digging up, determined to bury whatever the hell it was that had shifted between us.
The hours and miles of fence ticked by and before I knew it, it was time to head back. I climbed on my horse waiting for the hands to head back before making my way. I had survived my first encounter with Ryan.
The sun was low as I made my way back, casting long shadows across the land. I kept my eyes forward, not wanting anyone to see the tears that had slipped past my defenses. The ride back was quieter than I expected. No one had said much after we’d finished with the fence, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ryan’s voice had sounded. The sharpness, the distance—it was like he’d built a wall between us, and I wasn’t sure if I could climb it again.
I wiped my cheek, hoping no one noticed. Hell, no one had ever really understood how much it hurt when I left, how everything I’d built away from here was still connected to the pain I felt from the past. And it was like stepping right back into it, all over again, just when I thought I could move forward.
My horse moved with an easy rhythm beneath me, but every step felt like a weight in my chest, dragging me back to memories I wasn’t ready to face. And there he was, standing by the barn, just watching. Ryan.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to say something, or if I wanted to just disappear into the barn and forget this moment entirely.
I slipped off my horse, my eyes met his and I waited. He didn’t say anything so I walked past him into the barn, leading my horse to their stall.
“Why did you come back?” he said.
“This is my home, why wouldn’t I come back,” I stared at the barn wall, scared to turn around, knowing if I did he would see.
“But why now?” he added.
I took a deep breath, my fingers tightening around around the reins. The words hung in the air between us, thick with something unspoken, something neither of us wanted to confront.
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” I said, my voice a little shaky as I avoided his gaze. “I thought… I thought maybe things would be different. I thought I could come back, help out, and maybe everything would just pick up where we left off.”
I finally turned, meeting his eyes. The warmth I had once known in his gaze was gone, replaced by something colder, harder.
“Did you expect that?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm.
“No,” I answered honestly, “but I thought maybe we could…” I trailed off, unsure of what I even wanted to say. He was still Ryan, but it felt like a lifetime ago since I’d known him in any way that made sense.
He took a step closer, but there was no warmth in his movement. He was still a distance away, both physically and emotionally.
“You can’t just walk back in and expect everything to be the same,” he said, his voice quieter this time, but still laced with that edge.
“I never said I expected it to be the same,” I shot back, my chest tightening. “But damn, Ryan, it doesn’t mean it has to be this… this thing between us. We don’t even know how to talk anymore.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze turning away.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Alex,” he muttered, voice low. “Things are different now. And we’re not the same.”
His words cut deep. Deeper than I expected them to.
“You are so fucking infuriating,” I spouted as I tugged at the straps of the saddle. “How long after I left did you wait to laugh with the boys about how you fucked the rancher’s daughter? Days, weeks?” I huffed as I pulled down the saddle and carried it into the tack room.
“That’s not fair, Alex and you know it,” Ryan said back.
“Do I know it?” I stared straight at him, “How do I know it?”
Ryan took a step toward me, but I wasn’t sure if it was to close the distance or to give me space. Either way, it didn’t matter. The wall I had spent so long building up between us was breaking down, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
“I didn’t—” he began, but I cut him off.
“No,” I snapped, “You took the first opportunity you saw to tell me you didn’t trust me. Did you already have someone else?”
“Alex…” Ryan said softly, his voice tinged with something close to regret.
But it didn’t matter anymore. All of it—the anger, the confusion, the betrayal—it was too much. I couldn’t stand it.
I laughed but there was no humor in it, “I’m just a fucking idiot for thinking we were more than what we were. I guess that’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
Ryan stood there, silent for a long moment, as if weighing his next words.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Alex,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now. “But I can’t pretend like everything’s the same when it’s not.”
I nodded sucking in a breath, “Tell me the truth, even if it hurts, cause I want to get it all out of the way now.”
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“Was it ever real, you and me? Or was that something I let myself believe?”
My heart ached for the moments I waited for his response.
“It was real,” he said.
I nodded. I didn’t know what I wanted to do now. If I wanted to try and rebuild something with him. Or just know that he didn’t set out to hurt me and move on. I just needed time.
I raised an eyebrow as I stepped into the house, surprised to find Beth sitting at the kitchen table with two glasses in front of her. One of them had the familiar golden hue of whiskey, the other a pale tropical concoction, clearly designed for me.
“Beth, you know I don’t drink whiskey,” I said with a slight smile, despite the heaviness still weighing on my chest.
She smirked, giving me a look that said she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “I know. But I also know you’ve been hit hard today, and you could use something stronger than water.”
I sighed, knowing I couldn’t avoid this. She was right. My mind was spinning, the emotions swirling like a storm. And maybe—just maybe—a drink would help dull the edge.
“Come on,” she said, nudging the glass closer to me. “Gator made it extra strong. Just one sip, and you’ll forget all about him.”
I hesitated for a moment, then took the glass. The rum hit my senses like a wave, sweet and strong, and for a moment, I felt a little lighter. I sank into the chair next to her, the weight of the world still heavy on my shoulders but, for a brief second, not quite so suffocating.
Beth raised her glass, clinking it against mine. “Here’s to moving on, however that looks.”
I clinked it back, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I wasn’t sure if I was moving on yet. But for tonight, I’d let myself forget. Just a little while longer.

Chapter Text

I groaned myself awake. The ranch doesn’t wait for hangovers. Though this morning I wished like hell it did. After a shower, I felt a little more human. Maybe not fully myself but I could function.

“You need to learn to hold your liquor better,” Beth spouted at me as I stepped out onto the porch. I pulled the brim of my hat down and slipped on a pair of sunglasses. That wasn’t quite enough to block out the piercing rays of sunlight.
Beth's teasing was a little too much for me this morning, but I had to admit, she wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t exactly the best at handling my liquor, but after everything that went down with Ryan, I figured I was entitled to a little indulgence.
I gave her a halfhearted glare, which only made her smirk wider. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Should’ve stuck with the whiskey, princess,” she teased, leaning back in her chair on the porch. “But I guess you’ll learn eventually.”
I rolled my eyes and stepped past her, trying to ignore the pulsing in my temples. The ranch didn’t care about last night’s mistakes or regrets. The work needed doing, and I was going to drag myself through it—hangover or not.
“I’ll handle it,” I muttered, my voice rough from the lack of sleep and a little too much rum. I adjusted my hat again, hoping to block out the sun’s relentless assault.
“Yeah, yeah,” Beth replied, her tone more lighthearted now. “But don’t expect me to come running to save you when you get stuck out there with the cattle.”
“You still not riding?” I asked.
“You know I don’t get near those things,” she responded. I knew. But I’d hoped after this long, maybe Beth would have conquered that fear. It wouldn’t do any good to push. Especially not my sister. She would push back harder and stronger.
“Guys already head out to do that thing at the reservation?” I asked. Though the silence in the house already gave me my answer.
“I know the spectacle is your kind of thing, but you missed this one,” she responded.
“I guess I’ll try to get some training in then,” I said. “I haven’t trained since I got here. Might get rusty.”
“I highly doubt that, but go easy today,” she said then slinked back into the house.
I chuckled at her words. Beth had a way of making me second-guess myself, but I didn’t need her to remind me that I wasn’t as rusty as I might’ve felt. Training was my release, my way to focus, and I was ready to get back into the swing of things.
The barn was still quiet when I reached it, but Denim was already waiting, as though he knew what was coming. He had a way of making everything feel just a little bit easier. I ran my hand down his side as I approached, giving him a small smile.
“You ready for this, old friend?” I whispered, even though I knew he’d be just as ready as I was.
I saddled him up with practiced ease, the movements automatic, even in my foggy state. As I tightened the cinch, I took a deep breath, letting the familiar scents of the barn ground me. The anxiety and heartache of the past few days melted away, replaced by something more tangible: the work that needed to be done.
With one last glance at the empty barn and the quiet ranch, I rode out, knowing that this was the part of the day where I could escape. The world outside was big, wide open, and full of possibilities, even if it didn’t feel like it sometimes. I just needed to find my rhythm again, and maybe, just maybe, everything else would fall into place.
I slipped through the straps and hung off the side, I felt unsteady for the first time in a long time. I breathed and gripped tighter trying to regain my balance. I felt it falter and I found myself in the dirt.
I lay there for a second, staring at the sky above me, a mix of frustration and embarrassment swirling inside. The sting of hitting the dirt wasn’t as bad as the blow to my pride. I pushed myself up, shaking off the dust as I stood. Denim, thankfully, hadn’t moved far, his ears twitching as he turned his head toward me.
I took a moment, breathing through the burn in my chest. It had been a while since I’d fallen off like that, and the reminder that things weren’t as easy as they used to be stung a little more than it should have.
“I think we’ll take things easy today,” I told Denim as I swung back up in the saddle, “remind me not to drink with Beth anymore.”
I’d settled Denim back in his stall when I saw the trailers pull into the drive. One was loaded with ATVs, the other was loaded with horses. Rip was shouting at the new guy, Jimmy, to get his ass on a horse. At least someone was having a tougher time riding today than me.
I rounded the barn as Jamie, Dad and Lee, wearing his Livestock agent vest, were coming out the other side.
“Both tonight?” I heard Jamie warn Dad.
“Everyone’s forgotten who runs this valley,” Dad said back.
“This is not how you remind them, it’s a bad idea,” Jamie continued.
“We don’t choose the way, little brother,” Lee responded then gave me a knowing look.
They were making a stand.
I felt a cold knot tighten in my stomach. Whatever they were planning, it was more than just another day on the ranch. The tension was thick in the air, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the heat or something else.
Jamie was still trying to reason with Dad, but I could tell there wasn’t much room for negotiation. When Dad made up his mind, nothing short of a tornado could change it.
“You know it’s not gonna end well,” I said, my voice quieter than I wanted it to be.
Lee looked over at me again, his expression unreadable but sharp. “Maybe it doesn’t end well, but you don’t let things slide either.”
“You’re talking about a war, Lee,” I shot back, my heart pounding harder with every word. “It doesn’t just affect the men in this family. It affects all of us.”
Lee didn’t respond, just kept walking toward the trailers. Dad, on the other hand, gave me a hard look. “You’re still here, aren’t you? You still got a place in this family.”
The sting of his words made my chest tighten, but I wasn’t going to back down. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of their decisions pressing down on me. Whatever was about to go down, I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t have a choice.
Dad climbed into the ranch helicopter. And took off into the distance. Lee climbed into his Livestock vehicle, Ryan in the seat beside him. The knot in my stomach grew tighter as I watched them all take off down the road.
“Tell me it’s not as bad as I think it is,” I stood with Jamie as they headed off into the horizon.
“Don’t worry,” he tried unsuccessfully to reassure me, “it’s gonna be fine.”
I shook my head, not buying it for a second. Jamie’s words felt empty, and I could see the worry in his eyes even if he tried to hide it. “Jamie, I know you’re trying to keep things calm, but this... this feels different.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. But there’s nothing we can do now. You know how Dad is—when he makes a move, it’s already too late to change his mind.”
I looked back toward the horizon, where the helicopter had disappeared and the Livestock vehicle was a tiny speck in the distance. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and no one could stop it.
“We’re gonna get caught in the middle of this, aren’t we?” I asked quietly, half to myself.
Jamie didn’t respond immediately. When he did, his voice was heavy with the weight of the situation. “We already are.”
I felt my chest tighten at his words. The idea that we were all being dragged into something we couldn’t control, something bigger than us, made me feel small. I hated it.
“We need to stay focused,” Jamie added. “There’s no turning back now. But we’ll get through it. We always do.”
I nodded, even if I didn’t fully believe him. I wanted to. But there was something in the air—something unspoken—that told me this wasn’t just another disagreement. It was a storm brewing, and we were all standing right in its path.
I turned and headed into the house, the scent of fried chicken filled my nose. Lee’s favorite. My stomach rumbled reminding me that I hadn’t eaten all day. So tonight it would be my favorite too.
The table felt empty, just me and Jamie. Dad and Lee’s chair sat ominously empty. Like even the chairs themselves knew that something was going to change after tonight. Beth was in town, working on her “project” for the ranch.
The weight of the silence was thick, heavier than it should’ve been. I set the table, my hands moving mechanically, as I tried to push the feeling of impending change out of my mind. Jamie watched me, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the tension radiating off of him.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he finally said, his voice low.
I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just thinking. About everything. About what’s coming.”
“Yeah.” He looked over at the empty chairs, his eyes lingering on them for a moment before he sighed. “I know. It’s hard to ignore. But we can’t control what Dad does, and I think we’ve all learned that by now.”
I nodded but didn’t reply. There was nothing I could say that would change the truth. Our father was unpredictable, his decisions always carried weight. And tonight felt like the calm before the storm.
The food was served, the silence between us growing more uncomfortable with every bite. I couldn’t help but feel like this was the last calm dinner we’d have together. Something was on the horizon, and no amount of fried chicken could make it go away.
“Is it just me,” I started, trying to break the tension, “or do you feel like something’s... off?”
Jamie didn’t immediately answer, but his gaze met mine with a sense of understanding. “It’s not just you,” he said quietly. “I’ve got that same feeling. But we’ll deal with it when we have to.”
“Right,” I muttered, though I wasn’t sure I believed it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the winds of change were already here. And we were about to be caught right in the middle of it.
“It looks like you’re settling back into things ok,” he said trying to steer the subject to something else. “You going back out on the road again.”
I shook my head, being out on the road was hard, I loved the thrill of the arena, but everything outside of that, was a rat race. “I’ve traveled the country. At least all the parts you can get to by land. I’m not done riding but I may just rodeo closer to home now. Maybe take some more classes online. Maybe get my veterinary license like Dad wanted.”
Jamie raised an eyebrow at that. "Veterinary license, huh? Didn’t take you for the settling down type."
I shrugged, unsure of how to explain the pull I felt to be closer to home. “It’s not about settling down. It’s about doing something that feels... right. You know? I spent so long out there, chasing that next rodeo, that I missed some of the things that matter. And I’m not saying I’m done with riding, not by a long shot. But maybe it’s time to focus on something else, something that could help the ranch."
Jamie was quiet for a moment, his fork tapping lightly against his plate. “I get it,” he said, his voice soft but with that signature seriousness that always made me listen. “You’ve always been good with animals. Might be a good fit for you.”
I smiled faintly, feeling the weight of the decision settle on my shoulders. “I hope so. We’ll see. But I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me, and it won’t be easy."
"Nothing ever is," he replied with a grin. "But you’ve got this, Alex."
“I know,” I looked up at my brother with a smile, “If you can make it through Harvard Law, I’m sure Bozman Veterinary School will be a breeze.”
An explosion in the distance reminded me of what was going on outside the walls of our home. I looked at Jamie, his non-response told me that was just part of Dad’s plan.
The explosion had been loud, but there was an eerie silence that followed, as though the world outside was holding its breath. Jamie stood up, pushing his chair back with a scrape that echoed in the quiet kitchen. "I’ll go check on things outside," he said. "Stay inside for now. Let me handle this."
I nodded, my heart sinking deeper with every step he took toward the door. Things were shifting, and the future felt uncertain. Would any of us make it through this unscathed? Would I find my place in all of this chaos, or was I destined to be swept up in it?
I watched Jamie disappear into the fading light of the day, the faintest hint of worry in his posture. The ranch had always been about strength—about resilience. But tonight, I wasn’t so sure we had enough of either left to weather the storm that was coming.
I couldn’t sleep that night. Even when I heard the helicopter land outside and my father walk in, I knew it wasn’t over, not yet. The cattle had been pushed back over to our pasture from the reservation.
I did all I knew to do by helping Gator in the kitchen make coffee and cut vegetables for the meal ahead. Anything I could do to distract myself from my racing thoughts. The ranch was booming with Livestock Agents and Deputies. Lee was missing.
“Get some air, Miss Alex, I’ll take care of this,” I nodded and stepped outside on the porch. Everyone was bustling, Jamie was talking on the phone with someone, anyone, everyone who could find our brother.
I stood next to my father feeling helpless but I couldn’t show it. Dad carried the burden of his decisions and I couldn’t add to that.
“State police are sending a chopper out to look for him,” Jamie told us.
My heart clenched at Jamie’s words, the weight of them pressing down on me like a lead blanket. “He’s out there alone,” I muttered, my mind running through all the possible scenarios. “He’s not prepared for this. He’s never had to deal with something like this.”
Dad stood a little taller, his eyes hardening with resolve, but there was a flicker of worry behind his gaze. “Lee can take care of himself, Alex. But that doesn’t mean I’m not worried. You don’t stop being a father just because they’re grown.”
I looked at him, knowing he wasn’t just talking about Lee. There was so much unsaid between us, so much weight carried in the silence. But now wasn’t the time to dive into it. Not when our brother was out there somewhere.
“Do you think he’s okay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dad’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away from the horizon. “He has his ways of handling things. Lee’s smart. He’ll be alright.”
But something in the air felt wrong. I could feel it. There was no certainty in his words, just the steady push of a father trying to believe in his son. Trying to convince himself everything was going to be fine.
I followed my father’s gaze, out at the horizon. It was Kayce. There was something off about the way he was riding. Someone was draped over the horse in front of him. Dad rushed out and mounted a horse of his own to meet him.

I squeezed my eyes shut not wanting to know what I clearly knew. It was Lee.
The world seemed to slow around me as I stood frozen, my heart hammering in my chest. I could hear the thundering of hooves, the distant echo of my father calling out to Kayce, but it all felt muffled, like I was underwater.
I wanted to run, to do something, but my legs wouldn’t move. The sight of my brother, possibly injured, possibly worse, felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
Dad was already at Kayce’s side by the time I took a step forward, his hands quickly inspecting Lee’s limp form. I could see their faces, twisted in grim determination. Kayce said something, and Dad nodded sharply, looking over his shoulder at the house. It was too much to take in all at once.
When Kayce took Dad’s horse and rode to the house alone, I knew. What I’d feared. Lee was gone. I slumped down in the chair broken as Kayce approached. He was all over the place as he explained what happened. The fight, and the shot that took out our brother. And that he was the one who took out the guy who did it.
I took little comfort in that.
The days leading to his funeral were a blur. I slipped on a black suit. Stood outside as the ranch hands gathered to lead Lee to his final resting place.
The weight of the world felt unbearable as we walked. Each step was heavier than the last, and every breath was a struggle. The world had gone still, like time itself was holding its breath in respect for the man we’d lost. Lee had been taken from us in such a violent, brutal way, and yet, here we were—still standing, still fighting—but broken.
The hand on my back was a quiet comfort. I didn't need to look to know it was Jamie. He was always there when things got too heavy, just like Dad, but there was something different in his touch today. The support was more than just family— it was his grief, too, woven into that simple gesture.
I kept my gaze forward, trying to hold it together as we reached the family plot. The place where my ancestors had been buried, the ones whose names and faces I’d heard stories of but never knew. Lee was joining them now, his body at rest, his spirit claimed by the land. I hated it. I hated that we were burying him here, in the dirt, under the same sky that now felt so vast and empty.
The pastor’s words were soft, but I couldn’t focus on them. I could barely hear him over the storm raging inside me. Lee was gone, and there was nothing that could bring him back. The silence felt suffocating. And yet, the wind carried with it a feeling of finality, a reminder that life would keep moving, no matter how much I wanted to freeze this moment, to make the pain stop.
The finality of it was overwhelming. I’d never get to hear Lee’s voice again, never get to argue with him, or laugh at his stupid jokes. And that reality crushed me.
I drew in a breath and walked back to the house with my family. Tates laughter echoing as he ran through the grass ahead of us, reminded me that there was something more, something that had to carry on after this.
A hand slipped in mine, as though he’d been watching me carry the weight of it all alone.
Ryan.
His hand felt warm and steady, grounding me in that moment when everything else felt like it was slipping through my fingers. I didn’t look at him, couldn’t bring myself to just yet, but I could feel the sincerity in his touch. The same sincerity that had been missing for so long. The same sincerity I had thought I’d never see from him again.
I squeezed his hand lightly, my fingers tightening around his, as if telling myself that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as alone as I felt.
The silence between us was thick, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was understanding. There were no words needed—just his presence beside me.
Tate’s laughter rang through the air again, and I looked over at him. The innocence in his voice, the way he ran without a care in the world, reminded me of the things I had to hold onto. The things that still mattered. Lee was gone, but the family, the land, the ranch—it was still here. And somehow, we had to find a way to move forward.
Ryan’s hand tightened in mine as we reached the porch. I finally met his eyes, and I didn’t have to say anything. His gaze said it all. It wasn’t the same as before. The connection wasn’t exactly the same, but it was something. Something we could try to rebuild.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, his voice quiet but full of regret. “I should’ve been here sooner. For you.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice to respond just yet. But the apology, it felt like a step forward, even if it was just the smallest of steps.
I didn’t know what came next. I didn’t know how I would make sense of everything that had happened, or how I would ever fill the hole Lee left behind. But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I had the chance to try. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
I stared out into the field, Kayce sat there, he held more weight than any of us. I started to go to him when Dad stopped me. I nodded. And let my father go to him.
The people left and the ranch felt hollower, empty now.
I stood on the porch with Jamie and Beth as I watched the last of them drive away.
“I’m gonna need you now more than ever,” Dad said to Jamie, “and I need you two to stay,” he looked at Beth and then me.
Dad’s words were heavy, a command, a plea. The weight of everything was suffocating, but we didn’t have time to break. Not now. Not with what was coming.
Jamie stepped up beside Dad, his expression unreadable but the tension in his shoulders said it all. Beth, ever the fighter, didn’t hesitate. Her words cut through the air, sharp and certain. She wasn’t going to back down.
I looked out across the land, the ranch stretching on as far as the eye could see, but it felt small, insignificant now. Lee’s absence loomed over it all, but there was still work to be done. The legacy that had been left behind. It wasn’t just a piece of land—it was our home. And I’d be damned if we let it fall apart.
I turned to Dad, meeting his gaze. “We’ll be here,” I said, my voice steady even though everything inside me was still falling apart.
Jamie placed a hand on Dad’s shoulder, offering him the silent support that spoke volumes. Beth crossed her arms, determined as always. And me? I just nodded, ready for whatever came next.
But it was Kayce I was worried about. He held the heaviest burden of us all.
I walked back inside, letting the cold air linger behind me, but when I reached the stairs, I paused. Jamie’s voice carried, low but firm as he spoke to Dad. I knew that things were about to change, that we were going to fight—together. We had no choice. But how we’d emerge from it all was anyone’s guess.
For now, I had to trust that our family could weather this storm.

Chapter Text

The ranch didn’t cease to go on after Lee’s death. That’s the thing with ranches, something always needed to be done.

“Sweetheart,” my Dad’s voice interrupted my musing thoughts over breakfast.

“Yeah, Dad?” I lifted my eyes to meet his.

“Travis is bringing some horses to see if we can find a good stud,” he responded, “need your help picking out a good one.” John Dutton didn’t need anyone’s help with much of anything. Let alone picking out a horse. But my father knew my weakness. He knew I wouldn’t pass at the opportunity to see the champion horses Travis always brought to show him.

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. My father always knew exactly how to pull me in, even after everything. The ranch never stopped, and I knew that meant we couldn’t either. Still, the thought of getting to see Travis’s horses again—a few champions, a few prospects—was a welcome distraction from the endless weight I’d been carrying.
“I’ll be there,” I said, already pushing back from the table. My Dad gave a subtle nod before turning back to his coffee, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind. There was still a lot to manage, a lot to prove, and somehow, amidst all the grief and pressure, this felt like a brief moment where things might just feel... normal again.
I grabbed my hat and boots, the day’s tasks already shifting in my mind. I’d deal with the ranch later, the family’s needs later. For now, it was about horses, and it was about remembering that, for just a little while, I could still be the girl who loved them—no weight, no responsibility.
Walking toward the barn, I could already hear the clatter of hooves on the gravel, Travis’s unmistakable voice calling out orders. My heart started to pick up pace, not just from the excitement of the horses, but from the knowledge that this was a new start, a chance to focus on something else—something that was just about the land, the animals, and for the first time in a long time, a little bit of peace.
Travis Whitley, sat on his horse in the corral, the arrogance radiating from him. He ushered the different choices in front of us. Jamie narrowed his eyes. He knew whatever choice was made it would be expensive.

“Did the rodeo queen get domesticated already?” Travis asked as I leaned against the fence eying the horses as they trotted around majestically around the corral.

I shot Travis a look, but kept my voice steady, “I’m not some stray animal to be domesticated, Travis. But if you want to talk about horses, I’ll be happy to focus on that.”
Jamie shot me a quick look, probably sensing the tension in the air. Travis was never one to mince words, and I wasn't about to let him provoke me into an argument. Still, his presence always seemed to stir something in me—maybe it was the old competition between us, or maybe it was the way he always seemed to test my limits.
“You’ll need to be careful with the bloodlines,” I added, keeping my eyes on the horses, “we want more than just showy horses. They need stamina, agility...something we can count on when it matters.”
Travis chuckled, though I could hear the challenge in his voice, “You think you know more about horses than me, Alex?”
I tilted my head slightly, glancing at him, "I know how to pick them. You brought these here for a reason, Travis. Let’s just see if they live up to the hype."
Jamie shifted beside me, clearly trying to gauge whether this was about to turn into something more than just business. I wasn't sure myself. But right now, with the horses circling in front of us, it felt like the only thing that mattered was finding the right one.
Travis started spouting off the different titles the first show had won. “5 million for that one.”
“Do I have I just flew in from San Diego on my hatband?” Dad snorted back.
“He’s the best,” Travis responded.
“I wouldn’t call him the best,” I said.
“Well besides your horse. But you gelded him so he won’t quite do the job that you’re looking for,” Travis shot back.
I narrowed my eyes at him, a slight smirk curling at the edge of my lips. “You really think I’m just going to fork out five million for some flashy horse? Not happening.”
Travis didn’t flinch, but his gaze flickered toward the horses again, probably trying to gauge how much of a challenge I was going to be this time.
“I’ve got my own ideas about what a good stud should look like,” I said, stepping a little closer to the fence. “It’s not all about titles. You can buy a horse with ribbons all day long, but it’s the bloodlines that make the difference.”
Dad grunted in agreement. “Alex knows her horses. If we’re going to drop that kind of money, it’s gotta be for more than just a pretty face and a trophy shelf.”
Travis smirked again, leaning forward in his saddle. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re out there looking for another one in a few years.”
I didn’t back down, meeting his gaze with a challenge of my own. “Let’s see if your best can back up that price, Travis. I’m not here to make you look good, but I’ll sure as hell make sure we pick the right one.”
Travis chuckled, but the tension between us was palpable, and I knew he was aware of the fact that I wasn’t backing down this time.
A palomino raced and slid to a stop in front of me, “That’s a mean son of a bitch right there. If you want good ranch horses that’s your stud right there.”
Rip’s eyes were wide in amusement as he watched horses that he could never afford in his lifetime perform tricks and spins for him.
“Which one do you like?” Dad asked him.
“I like that 5 million dollar bastard but I ain’t buying him,” Rip responded.
“Alex?” he watches my eyes linger on the lean form of the ‘mean’ palomino.
“The girl knows what she likes,” Travis chuckled.
“We can’t do it,” Jamie said softly.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” Dad shot back.
I caught the edge of Dad's tone, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface, but I didn’t let it faze me. I was focused on the palomino, its sleek muscles rippling under the sunlight, the sharpness in its eyes as it stood still, waiting for the next command.
“I like him,” I said slowly, eyeing the horse with a discerning gaze. “He’s got the attitude. He’s got the build, too..”
Travis’ grin widened, clearly thinking he had the upper hand.
I let out a breath, glancing over at my father. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes were focused on the horse too.
“You want to take him for a test ride, Alex?” Travis smirked.
“You sure about that?” I quipped back as I started to climb over the fence, “If I ride him, you may never be able to get him to go back in your trailer.”
“Damn girl, you been hanging around too many barrel racers,” he laughed. “But I think I’ll take my chances.”
“I can’t unhear that, sweetheart,” Dad said.
I shot a quick grin at Dad, who looked at me with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” I said, swinging my leg over the fence, “I’ll be gentle with him. No promises for Travis, though.”
Travis chuckled but made no move to stop me as I walked toward the palomino. The horse snorted as I approached, his eyes locking with mine, sizing me up like he was ready to challenge me.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” I muttered to the horse as I grabbed the reins, giving him a firm but gentle tug.
I mounted, feeling the power in the horse’s frame immediately. He shifted beneath me, and for a moment, I felt like we were one. The connection was instant, the way we communicated without words.
I gave him a light nudge with my heels, testing his response. He immediately picked up speed, and I held tight as we raced across the corral.
“Damn,” Travis muttered, clearly impressed. “Guess you weren’t kidding.”
I didn’t say anything, just let the horse do what he did best, tearing through the dirt as if the whole world was ours for the taking.
When I slowed him down, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I turned to see Dad and Jamie both watching, their eyes wide in recognition.
“Alright,” Dad finally said, “I think we’ve got our stud.”
I dismounted with a smirk, handing the reins back to Travis.
“Like I said,” I said with a wink, “you’ll have trouble getting him back in that trailer.”
“I really think you should try and use the stallion Kayce gave you,” Jamie said.
“No one can ride the son of a bitch,” John added.
“You shoulda seen Jimmy try to ride him,” Rip said to me, “he was strapped down for hours.”
The thought of the green cowboy getting jostled by the wild stallion Kayce had ‘gifted’ our father with almost made me feel sorry for him.
Almost.
I laughed, imagining Jimmy's struggle, his hands probably white-knuckled on the reins as the wild stallion bucked him around like a ragdoll.
I stopped in my tracks as I noticed the rest of the audience. Lloyd, Colby, and …
Ryan.
“You on a horse,” he said, “never ceases to amaze me.”
I rolled my eyes, but a part of me couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at my lips. "You should be used to it by now. Or did you forget I can ride better than most of you?"
Ryan raised an eyebrow, the challenge in his gaze unmistakable. "Oh, I remember.” The weight of his words said he wasn’t just referring to the horse.
“I was never afraid of a challenge,” meeting his stare.
The tension between us felt thicker than ever, but for the first time, I wasn’t backing down.
"Just don’t go getting yourself thrown," he added, a trace of concern in his voice.
"Wouldn't dream of it," I replied, trying to mask the sudden flutter in my chest at the thought of his concern.
"You’re gonna need more than guts to handle this one, Alex," Colby said leading Kayce’s stallion into the corral, slight chuckle in his voice.
"We’ll see about that," I muttered, climbing into the saddle with an unshaken resolve.
He bucked at the weight of me. “Easy, boy,” I whispered so just he could hear me, “don’t make me look bad.” I gave his sides a gentle tap with the heel of my boot.
I kept a tight grip on the reigns, letting him run around the corral. He bucked but couldn’t shake me. “Come on now. We’re gonna be friends, now, right.”
The stallion's movements grew wilder, but I held firm, my body swaying with each twist. "Easy, boy," I whispered again, this time with more authority. "I don’t give up that easily."
Ryan’s gaze was on me, I could feel it, but this time, there was something different in the way he watched. The usual smirk was replaced by an unreadable expression.
"You’re not afraid to lose, are you?" he called out, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and challenge.
“Not when it’s worth the ride." I nudged the stallion again, urging him to settle. He tossed his head but finally gave in, his muscles relaxing finally giving over control.
"See," I said, her voice calm as she eased the reins, "told you we'd be friends."
Ryan stepped forward, his eyes softer now, but still piercing. "Impressive," he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.
“Thanks,” I responded as I climbed down off Kayce’s stallion. Grateful I’d won this round, at least with the stallion. And maybe even a little with Ryan.
“Though, if I were you I’d stick to the palomino,” he said.
“I think I might,” I responded, “I just need to get to get Jamie to loosen the purse strings.”
Ryan chuckled, his gaze flickering toward the corral as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, Jamie’s not exactly known for being generous," he teased.
I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "He knows a good investment when he sees one. He’ll come around," I said, brushing the dust off my pants.
"Maybe," Ryan agreed, "but don’t expect him to do it easily." His eyes locked with mine, a hint of amusement dancing in them. "You’ve got a way of getting what you want."
I felt the weight of his words, but I wasn’t sure whether to take it as a compliment or a challenge. "Guess we’ll see about that," I said, my tone light but with an underlying edge.
Ryan stepped closer, the space between us tightening, though neither of us moved to close it further. "You’ve got the spirit, Alex. But don’t go getting too attached to that stallion. He’s trouble." His voice dropped to a more serious note, the glimmer of amusement fading slightly.
"Sounds like you’re speaking from experience," I countered, my gaze steady as I looked up at him.
Ryan gave a slight nod. "Trust me, some things aren’t worth the fight. Even if they’re tempting."
I glanced at the palomino again, my mind moving between my two choices. My brother’s barely tame stallion or Travis’ dependable pure bloodline palomino. But when I turned back to Ryan, I met his gaze with a challenge in my eyes. "Maybe I like the fight."
Ryan’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, though there was something more in his eyes now—an understanding, or maybe even a warning. "You’ve always been that way," he said, his voice quieter, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
I didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "And what’s wrong with that?"
"Nothing," he replied, his tone soft but steady. "It’s just... be careful. Sometimes the fight’s not worth it."
I could feel the weight of his words, but I wasn’t sure how to take them. I had always been one to fight for what I wanted—whether it was a ride, a challenge, or a dream. "I know my limits," I said firmly, though my mind still flickered between the two horses.
Ryan gave me a long, assessing look, as if weighing my every word. "You sure about that?"
For a moment, it felt like he was talking about more than just horses. The air between us thickened with something unspoken, something that had been building for a while now.
"I’m sure," I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure if I was convincing him, or myself.
—-
The next morning Rip had set up some roping practice for the hands. They were chasing a steel steer roping dummy and pulling it back in pairs. I couldn’t help but laugh as Ryan and Lloyd took their turn, Lloyd just barely missed roping the leg as Ryan’s rope rounded the neck.
“Can I give it a shot, wanna make sure I haven’t lost my edge?” I asked Rip.
“I doubt you lost your edge,” Rip laughed, “but go ahead. Pick your partner.”
“Colby, head or heel?” I asked as I mounted a horse.
“Lady’s choice,” he replied.
I gave a nod and the ATV took off and we raced after it. I swung my lasso and Colby swung his. Both of us sticking the landing.
Rip’s grin widened as Colby and I rode back in, both of us expertly guiding the steer dummy back. "Not bad, not bad at all," he said, giving us an approving nod.
Colby leaned over and bumped my shoulder with his, his grin matching Rip’s. "You’re not as rusty as you thought."
"Guess I just needed a little warm-up," I replied with a smirk, still feeling the adrenaline of the chase. It felt good—too good—to be back in the saddle like this.
Ryan and Lloyd had come up beside us, Ryan’s lips twitching into a smile. "Guess we need a rematch," he said, looking from me to Colby.
"Anytime," I shot back, my competitive side flaring. "But you might want to warm up a little more first."
Lloyd laughed, nudging Ryan. "She’s got you there."
Ryan didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than usual. "We’ll see," he finally said, his tone low, the challenge still in his eyes.
I couldn’t tell if it was the roping or something else, but the tension between us felt thicker than ever.
“Want to put your money where your mouth is?” I arched a brow glancing between Lloyd and Ryan.
“I’m game,” Lloyd responded, “$50 a piece?” I gave Colby a glance making sure he was good for it.
“Ryan?” smirk tugging at my lips.
Ryan met my gaze, his jaw tightening for a moment before he nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "You’re on," he said, the challenge in his voice unmistakable.
Lloyd laughed, looking between us. "This is gonna be good." He nudged Ryan with his elbow. "Don’t go easy on her just because she’s your ex."
Ryan’s eyes flicked to mine, a flicker of something darker in them before he shrugged. "Don’t expect me to."
I rolled my shoulders back, ready for the next round. "We’ll see who’s left eating dirt, then."
Colby chuckled beside me, giving me an encouraging nod. "Guess it’s just you two against us, huh?"
"We’ll make sure you don’t go too easy on ‘em, Colby," Lloyd teased, readying himself for the challenge.
With everything set, we took our positions, the tension between me and Ryan growing thick in the air. The stakes were higher now, but all I could think about was proving myself.
“Age before beauty?” I chuckled at Lloyd.
“Alright, Ryan, let’s get ‘em,” Lloyd and Ryan took off after the steer dummy. Catching the heel and head with ease.
“Pretty good,” Colby goated them, he eyed me as the steer was set again to launch. I gave him a nod to let him know I was ready. He roped the head this time. My rope caught on the heel but slipped.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
Colby shot me a quick look, his eyes sharp but understanding. "You'll get it next time," he said, his tone steady as he dismounted.
I took a deep breath, adjusting my grip on the rope. The failure stung, but I wasn’t about to let it show. Ryan and Lloyd were watching closely, not saying much but clearly observing my every move.
My pride was bruised but not shattered as I pulled cash from my back pocket and handed it over.
“I don’t want your money, darlin’,” Lloyd said.
“Bet’s a bet. I lost fair and square. Don’t mean I won’t try and win it back from you later,” I responded.
Lloyd chuckled, accepting the cash with a knowing grin. "Fair enough. I’ll be waiting for that rematch."
Ryan watched us, his arms crossed, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You don’t quit, do you?"
I shrugged, the fire in my chest still smoldering. "Not unless I have to."
Lloyd tipped his hat, giving me a respectful nod. "I like that. Don't let one loss slow you down. You’ve got the spirit for it."
I couldn’t help but smile at that. "I’ll keep that in mind," I said, dusting off my hands as I looked back toward the steer dummy. "But I’m definitely coming for a rematch."
Lloyd looked at Colby and then cut his gaze back to mine, “How about we switch things up? Colby, you’re with me.” It was like they were in on a joke and I was the butt of it. Or maybe Ryan was.
I raised an eyebrow, suspicion creeping up my spine. "What are you two up to?" I asked, my tone laced with amusement and a touch of challenge.
Colby flashed me a grin, the kind that meant trouble. "Just trying to keep things interesting."
Lloyd’s smile grew. "You wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you? Let’s see if you can keep up when we switch partners. You and Ryan, you good with that?"
Ryan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he nodded. "Sure, why not?"
I shot him a glance, trying to gauge his reaction. "Alright, let’s see what you’ve got."
The tension shifted, a game of one-upmanship hanging in the air as Colby and Lloyd prepped for the next round. It was clear—this wasn’t just about roping anymore. This was personal.
The dummy took off and I charged after it, lasso ready. I swung hooking it around the horns. Ryan came up quickly behind me catching the heel. We were in sync again for the first time in a long time.
I caught the glint in Lloyd’s eye when I pulled my horse to a stop. Playing matchmaker, was he? Lloyd just took off after the steer with Colby trailing behind, I saw the rope miss the horns. I almost thought he did it on purpose.
I smirked, brushing a stray piece of hair from my face as I turned to Ryan. "Guess we make a pretty good team," I said, testing the waters.
Ryan gave a small, knowing smile. "Guess so." His voice was steady, but there was something behind it—something softer than before.
Lloyd and Colby reset for another go, but I knew what I saw. Lloyd had missed on purpose. The old cowboy wasn’t just playing matchmaker—he was setting the stage, giving Ryan and me a win, a moment.
I glanced at Ryan again, the weight of the past and whatever was still between us hanging in the air. Maybe it was time to stop running from it.
“Well shit, must be nice to get to play games with the boss’s daughter while the rest of us gotta work,” the words came from another new cowboy. Fred or Frank? I hadn’t quite committed his name to memory.
“How about you mind you business and get back to work, Fred,” Lloyd said back.
“You get your daddy to buy you that fancy new pony?” his cold eyes shot right at me. “I bet you blew Travis to get a real good discount on him.”
“Maybe if you were better at sucking dick you could have yourself a nice horse too,” I shot back at him.
The bunkhouse erupted in laughter, but I didn’t waver, my gaze locked onto Fred—or Frank, whatever his damn name was. His jaw tensed, fists clenching like he was debating whether or not to keep running his mouth.
Ryan stepped up beside me, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp. “Careful who you mouth off to,” he said, his voice calm but edged with warning. “You don’t wanna find out how fast she can knock you on your ass.”
Fred sneered, but Lloyd clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder before he could say anything else. “A word of advice, son,” Lloyd said, lowering his voice just enough to make it clear this wasn’t a request. “You don’t disrespect the brand. And you sure as hell don’t disrespect her.”
Fred’s glare lingered on me for a second too long before he finally turned away, muttering something under his breath as he stalked off.
I huffed, shaking off the tension. “Guess some people never learn.”
Ryan smirked, leaning in just slightly. “I dunno,” he drawled. “I think you taught him a pretty good lesson.”
I arched a brow, lips curving into a smirk of my own. “Damn right I did.”
“So you and Travis?” Ryan probed as we led the horses back in the barn.
“Never in a million fucking years,” I laughed, “he’s way too full of himself.” I caught the way he looked at me when I answered. Like he was relieved.
Ryan gave a small nod, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he ran a hand over his horse’s neck. "Good to know," he said casually, but there was something else in his voice—something more than just idle curiosity.
I tilted my head, watching him as I loosened the saddle. "Why? You jealous?"
His smirk grew, but he didn’t look at me right away. Instead, he focused on the leather straps in his hands. "Nah," he drawled, though the flicker of something in his eyes said otherwise. "Just making sure you got good taste, is all."
I chuckled, shaking my head as I led my horse into his stall. "Ryan, I do backflips and somersaults on the back of galloping horses. My taste is questionable at best."
He finally met my gaze, leaning casually against the stall door. "Yeah," he said, voice lower now, almost teasing. "But you sure know how to pick a fight worth having."
Something in my chest tightened, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I threw him a wink and grabbed a brush. "Guess we’ll see if you’re one of ‘em."
Ryan let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he grabbed a brush of his own. "Darlin’, I think you already know the answer to that."
I focused on grooming my horse, the rhythmic strokes of the brush grounding me. But I could feel his eyes on me, like he was waiting for me to say something—anything—that would confirm what was hanging between us.
Instead, I kept my tone light. "Maybe I do. But where’s the fun in giving in that easy?"
Ryan clicked his tongue, stepping into the stall next to mine. "Oh, so you like keepin’ me on my toes, huh?"
I smirked, finally glancing at him over my shoulder. "Wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable now, would we?"
His gaze lingered, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "No, ma’am. Guess we wouldn’t."
For a second, neither of us spoke, the air between us crackling with something unspoken, something we both felt but weren’t quite ready to name. Then, as if breaking the moment before it could become too much, Ryan chuckled and turned back to his horse.
"Just don’t expect me to make it easy for you either," he said, voice laced with challenge.
I bit back a grin. "Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“You coming out with us in the mornin’ to round up the cattle?” he asked as I stowed my saddle away.
I nodded, wondering if he knew as well as I did, Lloyd would pair us off together.
Ryan smirked like he was already thinking the same thing. “Guess we’ll be spending a lot of time together then.”
I shrugged, playing it cool. “Guess so.”
He took a slow step closer, resting his arm on the stall door. “Think you can keep up?”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Please. I’ll be the one waiting on you.”
Ryan chuckled, the sound low and easy. “We’ll see about that, darlin’.”
I turned to leave the barn, but not before throwing him one last glance over my shoulder. “Better get some sleep, cowboy. You’re gonna need it.”
His grin widened, and I felt the heat of his gaze linger long after I walked away.
—-

Chapter Text

Four am came sooner than I’d hoped. It was the same time every day, but this time it was too early. I wanted to be prepped and ready. I ran my fingers through my hair, not sure why I was putting in so much effort to go riding out with cattle in the warm summer day.
I slipped into Beth’s room, careful not to wake her. She was sprawled across the bed, dead to the world after the night before. In her bathroom, I found the subtle pink lipstick she always wore and swiped it across my lips.
Why the hell was I doing this again?
Beth’s groggy voice broke through the quiet. “Turn the light off before you leave,” she muttered, barely lifting her head. Then, with a knowing smirk in her voice, she added, “And go get your cowboy.”
It was still dark when I made my way toward the barn, the cool air biting at my skin. The hands were gathered around the tables, finishing up their breakfast, their conversations quiet but steady. Gator greeted me with a special cold brew, topped with a couple of shots of vanilla and foam.
“If you keep treating me like this, I might just have to marry you,” I teased as I took my first sip. Gator just chuckled, shaking his head.
I made my way over to where Dad and Rip were watching the horses get saddled and led out for the day. Dad glanced at me with his usual bemused expression. “Sweetheart, I’ll never understand how you can drink coffee cold on purpose,” he said, taking a sip of his black coffee.
“It’s smooth and sweet, Dad,” I replied with a grin, savoring the cold brew.
Rip smirked. “Sounds like a man’s worst nightmare.”
I rolled my eyes, taking another sip. “Guess that depends on the man.”
Dad shook his head, amused but not about to get caught up in my antics. “You ready to ride?”
“Born ready.” I turned my attention to the horses being saddled, and sure enough, Lloyd was already leading mine and Ryan’s out side by side.
That man was predictable.
I grabbed the reins and swung up into the saddle, adjusting my seat as Ryan mounted beside me. His eyes flickered over me briefly, and I swore they lingered for just a second too long on my face.
He tilted his head, a slow grin forming. “You dress up for the cattle or just felt like looking pretty?”
I feigned innocence, sipping my coffee. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on the reins. “Alright, darlin’. Let’s see if that lipstick lasts through the day.”
I smirked, nudging my horse forward. “Let’s see if you do.”
The sun was getting higher in the sky when we made it out to the field. Ryan and I paired up riding flank keeping the cattle together. I had a job to do. I just had to make sure I looked good doing it.
Dad was flying in the chopper overhead, Rip and Jimmy were gathering up the stragglers from the trees. I shook my head glancing over to see the kid face planted on the ground. It was all I could do to keep focused on the job and not burst out laughing.
“He always like that?” I called over to Ryan.
“Only on days that end in Y,” he responded.
I grinned, shaking my head as I watched Jimmy scramble back onto his horse. “Guess some things never change.”
Ryan chuckled, tipping his hat back slightly as he glanced over at me. “Speakin’ of changin’… you always this worried about lookin’ good in the saddle, or is this just for me?”
I shot him a side-eye, pretending to be more focused on the cattle than his teasing. “Maybe I just like to look good doin’ my job.”
He made a thoughtful sound, like he wasn’t convinced. “Uh-huh. And the lipstick?”
I smirked, shifting in the saddle just enough to toss my hair over my shoulder. “That’s just to make sure I leave a mark.”
Ryan’s grin turned downright wolfish. “Darlin’, I got a feelin’ you don’t need lipstick for that.”
“I suppose I don’t,” I replied, “but it doesn’t hurt, does it?” I saw the way he looked at me. How he’d been looking at me since we left the barn. I had caught myself looking at him, the way he rode his horse, the flex of his arms. His stupid, sexy-ass grin.
Ryan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he shifted in the saddle. “No, sweetheart, it sure as hell don’t hurt.” His voice had that slow drawl, the one that sent heat curling low in my stomach.
I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to focus on the cattle ahead instead of the way my pulse picked up under his gaze. “You gonna keep starin’ or actually do your job?”
Ryan smirked, tipping his hat at me. “Oh, I’m workin’, alright. Just happen to have the best damn view on the ranch.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the grin tugging at my lips. “Smooth, Ryan.”
“Just callin’ it like I see it.” His voice was softer now, less teasing.
Damn him. I swallowed, nudging my horse forward to put a little space between us before I did something stupid—like let him see just how much I liked the way he was looking at me.
I felt a sense of relief when we finally made it back to the ranch, guiding the cattle into the corral. Rip was already barking orders at the hands, his voice sharp and commanding. Dad, on the other hand, was struggling with Kayce’s stallion, who was giving him a hard time. Guess he still wasn’t ready to be ridden.
As on queue, Kayce strolled up to the corral, Tate in tow. I rode over to him, “Dad is really loving that horse you gave him. Just took him back to the barn if you wanted to talk to him.”
Kayce eyed me and said, “When did you start getting dressed up for wrangling cattle?”
“Why is everyone so damn worried about what I’m wearing?” I groaned.
Kayce smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ain’t about what you’re wearin’, sis. It’s about who you’re wearin’ it for.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes even as my face heated. “Maybe I just felt like lookin’ nice for once.”
Tate, ever the little instigator, grinned up at me. “Mom always says girls do that when they like somebody.”
I shot Kayce a glare. “Your kid spends too much time eavesdroppin’.”
Kayce just laughed, shaking his head. “Just sayin’, Alex, you look a little too put together for a morning covered in dust and cow shit.” He glanced past me, where I knew Ryan was tying up his horse. “Not that I think your cowboy’s complainin’.”
I groaned, pulling my hat lower to shield the heat rising in my cheeks. “You’re impossible.”
Kayce shrugged, flashing a grin as he nudged Tate toward the barn. “Yeah, but I’m right.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” I called after them. Seriously, did everyone on this ranch know? Hell, Kayce had figured it out and he didn’t even live here anymore.
I took a steadying breath, trying to calm the warmth creeping up my neck.
I glanced up, spotting Jimmy riding in from the field, a stray calf draped across his lap. Maybe there was a cowboy in him after all.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Fred jeered.
“Just open the damn gate,” I shot back, rolling my eyes.
The cattle were rounded up and driven out, the day's work winding down as a rare quiet settled over the ranch. But quiet never lasted long around here.
Behind me, I heard the scuffle of boots just as I walked toward the barn with Colby and Ryan. Fred had tripped Jimmy, sending him sprawling to the ground—and knocking me off balance in the process.
Before I could fall, Ryan’s grip caught my arm, steady and sure, keeping me from hitting the dirt.
I sucked in a breath as I felt the familiar heat of his touch that lingered just a moment before Ryan shouted, “Cut the shit, Fred.”
I steadied myself on my feet glancing over my shoulder, “This is not going to end well.” Jimmy swung on Fred. He’d had enough. The torment the kid must have been feeling had bubbled over. Swing for swing they went at each other. Each time Jimmy would land in the dirt he kept getting back up. He had guts. But chances were Jimmy’s guts would be in the dirt before the fight was over.
“Leave him alone, Fred,” I shouted.
Fred barely acknowledged me, too busy throwing another punch that sent Jimmy sprawling again. The kid coughed, wiping blood from his lip as he pushed himself back up, stubborn as ever.
Ryan let out a frustrated sigh, already stepping forward, but I beat him to it. I stalked toward Fred, shoving him hard enough that he stumbled back. “I said enough.” My voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.
Fred wiped his chin, glaring down at me. “What, you gonna fight his battles for him?”
“No,” I shot back, eyes narrowing. “But I will end this one if you don’t back off.”
The tension between us thickened, but then Rip’s voice cut through the air. “What the fuck is goin’ on?”
Fred stepped back, but not before shooting me a look. “Nothin’, boss. Just teachin’ the new guy a lesson.”
Rip’s stare was ice cold as he glanced between Fred and Jimmy, then landed on me. “Alex?”
I folded my arms. “Jimmy was just holding his own. Fred just doesn’t know when to quit.”
Rip huffed, shaking his head. “You wanna throw punches, Fred? Fine. But next time, you better pick someone who ain’t got more heart than brains.” He turned to Jimmy, who was still wobbling on his feet. “And you? Get cleaned up. Y’all go get you’re supper, I’ll finish up with this piece of shit.”
I gave Rip a knowing look. “Alright.” I had a feeling today was gonna be Fred’s last day at the Yellowstone. I couldn’t stand bullies—especially ones like Fred.
Ryan nudged my arm, smirking. “You always this good at startin’ trouble?”
I exhaled, shaking my head. “Nah. But I’m real damn good at ending it.”
By the time we got there, the tables were nearly full. Colby snagged the only open chair, leaving just one empty spot—right next to Ryan.
Gator handed me a plate piled high with perfectly cooked steak and potatoes.
“Have I told you how much I love you, Gator?” I teased, stabbing my fork into the meat.
“Only every day, Ms. Alex,” he said with a flush of pride.
Next to me, Ryan smirked. “Should I leave you two alone?”
I shot Ryan a playful glance, raising an eyebrow. "Only if you're jealous, cowboy." I cut a piece of steak and took a bite, savoring the rich flavor. "But I promise, there's enough love to go around."
Gator chuckled, shaking his head as he walked away, and I caught the brief flash of something in Ryan’s eyes—like he wasn't quite sure if I was joking or not.
Ryan sat down beside me, his presence as steady as always. "I wouldn't worry about Gator," he said with a grin. "I think he’s more into the food than anything else."
"Good," I teased. "Because if I thought I had to fight over a plate of steak, we’d be in trouble."
Ryan leaned back, eyes never leaving mine. "Well, I’d say you’re winning, then. But you might just have to fight me for the last piece."
I smiled, teasing, "I’d love to see you try."
We ate in companionable silence, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the playful tension between us was slowly, quietly, building.
My leg brushed against his, then my arm. The warmth of his skin seeped into mine, a slow burn beneath the surface.
Ryan's gaze flicked to me, sharp and knowing. “What are you doing?”
I shrugged, feigning innocence. “What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything.”
His eyes stayed on mine, the air between us growing heavier. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
I leaned in slightly, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Maybe I do,” I teased, letting the moment stretch, just long enough to drive him crazy.
His gaze darkened, lips pressing together like he was biting back a response. Instead, he exhaled a quiet, frustrated laugh. “You’re dangerous, Alex.”
“Only if you let me be,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
He held my stare, considering, testing. Then, a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’ll let you be.” A challenge.
I glanced at the other hands, chatting and eating, completely ignoring us. So I took him up on his challenge, my hand slid under the table resting lightly on his thigh. My fingers traced soft, slow circles. I look over at him for a response.
Ryan’s breath hitched ever so slightly, but his expression remained stoic, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep control. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, but I could feel the shift in him, like a storm just beneath the surface.
He leaned in, voice low and rough. “You really want to play this game, Alex?”
I held his gaze, unflinching, daring him to break. “I’m just getting started.”
The words were barely above a whisper, but the tension was palpable, simmering between us like we were the only two people there.
My hand slid up higher, past the leather of his chaps, massaging him through the denim of his jeans. Testing him, teasing him a little more. “You doing ok, cowboy?”
Ryan's breath quickened, his grip tightening on his fork as his eyes flickered down to my hand, the heat between us intensifying. He leaned in closer, his voice low but sharp, the edge of a challenge lacing his words. "Careful, Alex. You don't want to test me too much."
He didn't pull away, but the tension in his posture shifted, his body coiling like a spring, ready to snap. The boys around us felt miles away, the chatter and laughter dimming in comparison to the electric current crackling between us.
"Guess we'll see," I said with a smirk, keeping my hand steady, daring him to react.
I felt him react as I shifted slightly, my hand moving over his hardening reaction. A subtle twitch, a clench of his thighs. It was all the answer I needed.
Ryan’s breath hitched as I moved, his body stiffening beneath my touch. The tension between us deepened, thickening with every second. He shot me a look—half warning, half something else, something darker, but it only spurred me on further.
“Damn it, Alex,” he said, his voice tight, rough.
“You give up?” I teased, my fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles, keeping him right on the edge.
He exhaled sharply, his voice low and rough in my ear. “Fine, you win. But if you don’t stop, I won’t be able to stand up without everyone knowing exactly what you’re doing.”
A satisfied smile played on my lips as I leaned in just enough for him to feel it. “That’s what I thought,” I whispered, dragging my hand away—slowly, deliberately—letting the tension linger thick between us.
Ryan exhaled sharply, looking like he was fighting the urge to grab me and pull me closer. But he didn’t. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, his jaw clenched in silent restraint.
“You’re trouble, Alex,” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
I leaned back, catching the eyes of the others at the table. “You’re just figuring that out?” I shot back, my tone light, even though my heart was pounding.
—-
I might have tucked away that smirk of Ryan’s in my dreams—the way he used to touch me, the way he still reacted when I touched him. Because when I woke up, I was all kinds of frustrated. But there wasn’t time to deal with that. Not yet.
I needed to relieve the tension somehow. So I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra, tying my sneakers tight. A run. It might not give me exactly what I wanted, but at least it would give my body something else to focus on.
It was still dark when I stepped outside, the crisp morning air prickling my skin. I started my playlist, letting the music drown out the world as my feet hit the dirt. No thinking, no second-guessing—just running.
Being the first one awake on the ranch was rare—almost unheard of. But frustration had gotten the best of me. If I didn’t get Ryan to cave soon, I might just explode. Or end up making a trip to town for a new vibrator.
I shook my head at myself, barely holding back a laugh. I still couldn’t believe I’d lost mine in San Antonio. Some poor maid probably got the surprise of her life finding it abandoned in that hotel bathroom.
Sweat glistened on my skin as I slowed to a stop, catching my breath just as the scent of bacon and coffee drifted from the bunkhouse grill. Perfect timing.
“You are always there when I need you,” I said to Gator as he handed me my special brew. I closed my eyes, savoring that first euphoric sip, then pressed the cool glass to my flushed skin with a sigh.
I wasn’t expecting an audience when I opened them—but there they were. The whole damn bunkhouse, staring.
“Don’t you boys have some work to do or something?” I quirked a brow, shifting my weight onto one hip.
“Gonna be hard to concentrate if you’re wearing that,” Ryan muttered, his eyes dragging over me in a slow, deliberate once-over.
I huffed, crossing my arms. “I’m starting to get whiplash. You tease me when I dress up, and you tease me when I dress down. Which is it, cowboy?”
“I think he’d much rather have you undressed,” Colby chuckled, shooting me a knowing grin as he leaned back against the bunkhouse railing. “But you didn’t ask me.”
Ryan’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing like Colby had just broken some unspoken cowboy code. “The hell you runnin’ your mouth for?” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably like he’d just been called out in front of the whole damn bunkhouse.
Colby just laughed, unfazed. “Relax, man. It ain’t exactly a secret.” His gaze flicked between us, the amusement clear in his expression. “Pretty sure everyone here’s been placing bets on when you’re finally gonna crack.”
I smirked, tilting my head at Ryan, watching the muscle in his jaw flex as he gritted his teeth. “That true?” I asked, feigning innocence. “You been holdin’ out on me, cowboy?”
Ryan exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before giving me that lopsided smirk that always got me into trouble. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”
Colby clapped him on the shoulder. “Yep. And you’re screwed.”
My thoughts of being screwed—one way or another—were interrupted by the low rumble of truck engines and the unmistakable clatter of trailers rolling down the road. Every cowboy in the bunkhouse turned to look as the convoy pulled up in a cloud of dust.
Travis was back, and by the looks of it, he’d brought some of his best studs, still hoping Dad would finally make a damn decision.
I crossed my arms, watching as he climbed out of the driver’s seat, Stetson low over his eyes, already barking orders before his boots even hit the dirt. Typical Travis. Always working an angle, always pushing to get his way.
Ryan muttered under his breath. “Guess we’re in for a show.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair. “And I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long one.”
I took another slow drink from my glass before making my way toward the corral, where Travis’s prized horses were being led out one by one. Dad, Rip, and Jamie stood in their usual formation, arms crossed, eyes assessing each stud with practiced scrutiny. But it was the palomino that caught my attention.
The golden stallion pranced out of the trailer like he knew he was something special, muscles rippling beneath his glossy coat. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Couldn’t keep him away, I see?” I called up to Travis, meeting his gaze from the back of his horse.
“I suppose you get that reaction from every male that gets between your thighs,” he shot back, grinning like the cocky bastard he was.
Jamie stiffened beside me. “You know that’s my sister, right?”
Travis smirked, unfazed. “That’s bad news for you.”
Rip huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head, while Dad just let out a long sigh. I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my coffee.
Same Travis. Same bullshit.
The lighthearted banter died instantly when I turned and spotted Monica and Tate standing in the drive.
Where was Kayce?
A cold sense of unease settled in my chest as I took in Monica’s expression—tight-lipped, eyes heavy with something unspoken but undeniably bad. My stomach twisted.
I set my coffee down on the fence post, already moving toward her. “Monica?”
She barely spared me a glance before her gaze flicked to Dad. “John,” she called, voice tense. “We need to talk.”
Dad straightened, his posture shifting from casual observation to sharp focus. Rip and Jamie exchanged glances, and I caught the way Tate clung to his mother’s hand, his little face scrunched with worry.
Something was wrong.
Really wrong.
The words hit like a blow to the gut. Kayce had been arrested, but they wouldn’t say why or where he was. Monica’s desperation was almost palpable, her usual composure shattered. I could see it in the tight set of her jaw and the way her hands trembled slightly as she clutched Tate’s.
I was barely holding myself together when Monica turned to Dad, her voice cracking as she asked for his help. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t waste time with questions. The ranch owner in him immediately shifted into the role of protector, his connections and influence already at work as he called Jamie to make arrangements.
I stayed close to Monica, keeping her distracted while Dad and Jamie handled the calls. “Hey, you alright?” I asked softly, my voice gentle as I nudged her toward the porch steps, trying to shield her from whatever storm was coming.
Monica gave a quick nod, but her eyes betrayed her. “I never should have let him go,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. She was playing the blame game now, but it wasn’t her fault. It never was.
I couldn’t blame her for thinking that way though. Kayce was always getting caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it wasn’t just luck—it was his bad decisions catching up with him. The kind of bad decisions that typically ended with blood on someone’s hands. The kind that had haunted him for as long as I could remember.
I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened this time. Had it been another misunderstanding, or was this something bigger? Something worse?
All I knew for sure was that I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to find out the answer.
I looked toward Dad as he walked up to join us. Jamie was heading off in the chopper. I started to ask, but stopped myself. Maybe this was an adult conversation that Tate didn’t need to hear.
“You hungry?” I asked him, “You wanna go see what Gator has hiding in the kitchen?”
He looked to his mom, then back to me.
I could see the relief in Monica’s eyes as she gave Tate the nod to go with me. She needed a moment to breathe, to gather herself. I knew how she felt—when the weight of everything started to crush down, it was hard to keep it together. Sometimes, the best thing you could do was take a step back, if only for a minute.
Tate followed me into the house, his little footsteps trailing behind. I led him to the kitchen, where Gator was already bustling about, preparing the afternoon meal. He greeted us with a nod and a smile, but I could see the concern behind his eyes. He’d seen enough to know when something was off.
“What’s the special today?” I asked, trying to sound normal, like everything wasn’t falling apart outside.
“Chicken chili with black beans,” Gator replied with a wink, turning back to the stove.
I chuckled, nudging Tate. “You hear that? We’re in for a real treat.”
Tate didn’t respond at first, his mind clearly elsewhere. I placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, kid,” I said softly. “We’re gonna find your dad.”
He nodded, but I could see the worry on his face. I knew he was just as scared as his mom was. As much as I wanted to believe that everything would turn out okay, something about the situation gnawed at me. Kayce was never involved in anything small. And that made everything feel ten times worse.
Gator set a plate down in front of us, and for a moment, the warmth of the food and the quiet chatter of the kitchen gave a false sense of calm. But I knew better. I knew the storm was far from over.
“Think your mom wants one of those cookies?” I asked him eyeing the plate of giant cookies.
“Think I should take her one?” he asked.
“I bet that would make her feel a little better,” I responded. “Better get one for Grandpa too.”
Tate’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, his focus shifting from the uneaten food to the plate of cookies on the counter. He was always the sweet one—always thinking about other people’s feelings, especially when it came to his mom and Grandpa.
“Okay, I’ll take one for them,” he said, his voice determined. He reached for two cookies, choosing the biggest ones with the most chocolate chips, then wrapped them up carefully in a napkin.
I watched as he scampered out of the kitchen, his small feet barely making a sound on the wooden floor. For a moment, I could almost forget about the tension hanging in the air.
As Tate disappeared around the corner, I couldn’t help but feel a little proud. He was handling this better than most adults would. I just hoped he didn’t inherit too much of the chaos that seemed to follow the Duttons around.
Gator chuckled, noticing my gaze. “Kid’s got a good heart, you know that?”
“Yeah,” I replied, my voice soft. “Just hope he doesn’t have to grow up too fast.”
Gator gave me a knowing look. “That’s the hardest part of it all, isn’t it?”
I nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. Life on the ranch wasn’t easy, but seeing Tate still hold onto that innocence was something I wished I could protect forever.
I showered and dressed in something more ranch-appropriate. Normal jeans and a top. My freshly washed hair pulled back in a low ponytail as I headed back out.
If I wanted to know what happened to Kayce, I’d have to drag it out of him. I knew Dad wouldn’t tell me.
As I walked outside, the dry heat of the ranch settled over me, making the air feel thick, but it wasn’t as stifling as the tension I could feel weighing me down. I wasn’t good at sitting around, waiting for news to trickle in. I needed to do something, anything, to take my mind off Kayce and the mess he’d gotten himself into this time.
I saw Jamie’s chopper in the distance, his silhouette cutting against the sky. He wasn’t one to back down from a fight, especially when it came to family. If anyone could get Kayce out of whatever legal crisis he was in, it was him.
I walked toward the corral, trying to keep my pace casual, but every part of me was on edge. My eyes kept darting between the horses and the distant barn, hoping to see Jamie’s return. The ranch, usually so full of life and noise, felt eerily quiet. I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen, like the calm before a storm.
“Hey,” Colby greeted me from the side of the barn, his voice pulling me from my thoughts.
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Hey.”
“You alright?” he asked, studying me with those sharp eyes of his. He could always tell when something was off.
“Just worried about Kayce,” I admitted, not bothering to sugarcoat it. There was no point in pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.
Colby let out a breath, glancing over toward the road where Jamie had disappeared. “I’m sure he’ll pull through. He always does. But if you need to talk… you know where to find me.”
I gave him a brief nod, appreciating the offer more than I let on. “Thanks, Colby.”
I turned my gaze back to the horizon, waiting for any sign of Jamie’s return, or for something—anything—to give me a sense of control in this whole mess.
Travis had already begun loading the horses, but the family drama had him pausing—business could wait, especially when something more urgent was unfolding.
“Hold on a second,” I called as he started guiding the palomino into the trailer. “How much did you say he was?”
Travis flashed a cocky grin. “$200,000.”
I raised an eyebrow and leaned in slightly, just enough for him to catch a glimpse down my shirt. It was a trick I’d seen Beth pull off countless times to get free drinks at bars. Worth a shot.
“How many horses have I bought from you?” I asked, keeping my voice casual but laced with enough challenge to make him think twice.
He glanced at me, eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze. “Two, maybe three… but none of ‘em were quite like you.”
I smirked, shifting my weight. “How about you cut me a deal? Make it worth my while, and we can skip the haggling.”
He chuckled, clearly entertained by the back and forth. “You really think you can talk me down that easily?” He lifted the palomino’s reins, adjusting the horse’s stance as if he was in no rush to entertain the idea.
“Maybe,” I said, stepping closer to him, my voice low enough for only him to hear. “I think you and I both know how this works. I’m not just another buyer.”
Travis's gaze flickered for a split second—he knew the score. The game was on, and I wasn’t going to let him call the shots. He’d have to play my way if he wanted this deal to go through.
“I’ll throw in a discount,” he said after a pause, but I could tell the price wasn’t the only thing on his mind.
I smirked, crossing my arms. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” he said with a wink. “But next time, don’t make offers you’re not plannin’ on seein’ through.”
The spark of tension between us crackled in the air. I wasn’t about to let it go any further—not today, not ever. But he didn’t need to know that. “I’ll take the deal,” I said, turning to head back toward the house.
He just laughed, shaking his head as he went back to loading up the horses. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my back, but I didn’t turn around. Not this time.
“Call me when you’ve got your daddy’s checkbook,” he called after me, the challenge heavy in his voice. I didn’t turn back. I just let him watch me walk away, my boots steady on the ground, the sound of my footsteps the only response he’d get.
The ranch helicopter touched down in the field, the whirring of the blades slowing as Jamie stepped out, Kayce following behind him. I felt a sudden release in my chest, like the weight of the day was lifting with the heavy sound of the rotors fading away.
“It’s settled,” Jamie called over to me, his tone steady as he walked toward us. “All of it.”
Dad stood a little apart from the group, his eyes following Kayce as he lifted Tate up into his arms. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but the words hit hard. “Now that we’ve got him here, we can’t let him leave. I don’t want to lose another son.”
The unspoken weight of his words settled in, heavy and real.
“I’ll do what I can, but he’s not gonna stay just because I tell him to,” I replied, my voice firm but tinged with the desperation I didn’t want to admit. After everything, I wanted Kayce home. Even if he didn’t want to be here. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was where he needed to be.
“I’ll make some calls,” Jamie offered, his expression hardening with resolve.
“Now you’re thinking,” Dad replied, giving Jamie a nod of approval. The tension in his shoulders seemed to loosen just a bit.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before, but I knew there was nothing more to say—just actions to follow.
Dad took the lead, calling Kayce to take a walk with him.
“Hey Tate,” I said, “you wanna come watch the cowboys doctor the cows?”
Tate's eyes lit up, the spark of excitement shining through as he looked up at me. "Really? I get to watch the cowboys doctor the cows?"
"Yep, really," I grinned, trying to make it sound like an adventure, "come on, let's go."
I could already feel the subtle pull of Monica's watchful gaze as she overheard, but I wasn’t worried. If I could get Tate involved, it might just be the key to getting Kayce to see that this ranch, this family, was where he belonged.
Tate ran ahead, clearly thrilled by the idea, and I followed, hoping that this small act would help push things in the right direction. If I could get to Kayce through Tate, maybe it would ease the burden on Monica, too.
I hoisted Tate up onto the fence, giving him a better view of the action. Ryan, Colby, and Lloyd were busy roping calves, expertly pinning them down for the vet to administer their shots. Jimmy, though, seemed to be limping behind, barely keeping up. Fred was nowhere in sight. Looks like Rip had taken out the trash after all.
“You only rope when it’s a fake steer?” Colby called over to me with a grin.
“If I do all the ropin’, what’ll you do?” I shot back, raising an eyebrow.
Colby chuckled, shaking his head, and I caught Tate’s wide-eyed look of awe as he watched the cowboys work. At least one of us was enjoying the show.
“That’s a big needle,” Tate remarked, his eyes wide as he watched the vet prep the syringe.
I chuckled, leaning down to his level as I wiped my hands on my jeans. “Oh, it doesn’t hurt them any more than the shots you get at the doctor.”
He frowned, skeptical, then glanced at the needle again. “Well, they sure hurt, but I usually get ice cream after, so it’s worth it,” he said with a dramatic sigh.
I laughed, ruffling his hair. “Ice cream, huh? Guess that makes it all better, doesn’t it?”
Tate nodded seriously, his face lighting up at the thought. “Yup. Ice cream makes everything better.”
“Well, we might need to get you some after this,” I teased. “But maybe stick to just the cows getting their shots today.”
He shot me a playful look. “Only if I get a double scoop.”
I smiled, grateful for the way he could turn anything into a moment of lightness.
“Deal,” I respond as I stand up. Glancing over at the wranglers, my eyes lingering on one particular cowboy. Ryan. I watched him rope and ride, corralling them.
“That’s the one you like, ain’t it?” Tate said loud. Reminding me how children will say every thought that runs through their heads. My cheeks flushed a little.
I laughed nervously, giving Tate a playful nudge. “Don’t go saying things like that out loud, buddy,” I said, trying to hide the warmth creeping up my neck.
Tate grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? You look at him like he’s the last piece of pie at Thanksgiving.”
My blush deepened, but I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ve got a way with words, little man,” I said, glancing back at the cowboy in question. He was focused, working with a natural ease that drew my attention every time.
“Well, it’s pretty obvious,” Tate continued, now standing tall on the fence as if he was the one giving out the advice. “He’s got that cowboy thing going on. You like cowboys, don’t you?”
I shot him a mock glare. “Maybe, I like a cowboy,” I said, my voice lowering just enough that only he could hear, “but we don’t talk about that, alright?”
He raised an eyebrow, looking at me like he’d just unlocked a mystery. “Alright, alright,” he said, backing off with a grin. “But when you do, you better let me know. I’ll make sure you get that ice cream.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re a handful, Tate.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Kayce said as he walked up behind me, giving me a look, “No makeup today?”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than mess with me?” I retorted.
“Yeah, but it’s not as fun,” he chuckled, “I actually do need to go see how bad they messed up that stallion.”
I gave him an exaggerated eye roll, folding my arms as I watched him inch closer. "You just can’t resist poking fun at me, can you?" I teased, trying to hide the way his comment made my chest tighten slightly.
Kayce grinned, his eyes flickering with that familiar mischievous gleam. "Nah, it’s more fun watching you squirm than actually getting work done," he replied, giving me a quick once-over. "Besides, you look fine. The no-makeup look suits you, but I gotta admit, I think you clean up real nice."
“You have to say that cause you’re my brother,” I responded. “Not that I asked for your unsolicited opinion.”
“I guess I have a slight bias since you look like me,” he chuckled, “But I do need to see what the hell happened with that stallion I gave Dad.”
“He’s fierce and stubborn, reminds me of someone I know,” I gave him a playful nudge.
“Yeah well, you’re the same way, must run in our genes,” he said.
“What’s in your jeans?” Tate asked.
“He means it runs in the family,” I told him. “You wanna keep hanging out with me or go watch your dad try and ride that horse?”
“Horse!” Tate shouted.
“Dutton men, heartbreakers,” I held my hand over my chest.
“So are Dutton women,” Kayce chuckled, giving me one last teasing glance before turning to head off to the barn with Tate trailing behind him.
I watched them walk away, Tate’s excited voice still echoing in the distance as he shouted about horses. It was always funny how quickly he could latch onto something, a reminder of the way I used to get swept up in the ranch's chaos when I was his age. But now, there was a weight I couldn’t shake off.
Dutton women, heartbreakers, huh? It was a joke, but something in me caught on the phrase. Was that how Kayce saw me? Or was it just playful banter, the kind that went hand-in-hand with the endless teasing we’d grown up with?
I’d always worn my heart on my sleeve, maybe too much for my own good, and even if he was my brother, his words had a way of lingering longer than I’d liked. Maybe I was like the stubborn stallion—fierce, wild, and in need of some taming.
Shaking my head, I pulled myself back to the present, pushing the doubts aside. There was no room for that right now. Not with everything going on with the ranch and the mess Kayce had somehow gotten himself into.
I turned to head toward the barn, hoping to clear my head, but one thing was clear: the Duttons—men and women alike—were a force to be reckoned with, and I was just as tangled in the web of family pride, love, and legacy as any of them.
—
I stood there for a moment, my gaze cut to the bunkhouse door, my mind at war with itself. The soft glow of the lights inside promised warmth, laughter, and a kind of relief that only a group of like-minded cowboys could offer. But I hesitated.
The house was full of tension, and I wasn’t in the mood for any more drama. Beth was running herself ragged trying to keep up with everything Dad needed, and it was wearing her down. I’d watched it unfold over the past few days—the exhaustion in her eyes, the sharpness in her words. She was a force in her own right, but I could see she was losing the battle with whatever weight she’d taken on.
I sighed, brushing my hand over my face, pushing away the thought of dealing with any more stress. The last thing I needed tonight was to be caught in another one of those emotional spirals. I was looking for peace. Something to distract me from the ache of everything swirling around me.
But maybe the bunkhouse was just what I needed. Maybe tonight, I could let go of everything—just for a little while.
I took a step toward the door. Then another.
By the time I reached the threshold, there was a quiet solitude inside. Maybe it wasn’t just about the company; maybe it was about finding something real, something simple, where I didn’t have to pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t.
I pulled the door open.
"Well, well, look who decided to join us," Colby said, a playful grin on his face. The others turned to look at me, their faces lighting up with genuine welcome.
I stepped in, the weight in my chest lifting just a fraction. For a moment, it was just me and them—the world outside could wait.
“No poker game tonight?” I asked as I moved further in the room.
“Quiet night tonight, I’m afraid,” he answered.
I scanned the room, Jimmy was slumped over in his bunk. The weight of the day must have hit him too. My eyes cut over to Ryan, his shirt unbuttoned to the waist. His looked exhausted from the long day behind us.
“Hey,” I said softly.
“Hey, back,” he responded, “you alright?”
“Yeah, just looking for a distraction,” I said, “You game?”
Ryan’s eyes flickered with curiosity, his tiredness momentarily pushed aside as he studied me. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, like he could sense I wasn’t just looking for a game to pass the time.
“Distraction, huh?” he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. “You know, there are easier ways to get my attention than that.”
I shrugged, trying to keep my expression neutral, though I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. “Poker’s a little too much for me tonight,” I admitted. “I was thinking more along the lines of... just talking. Maybe grabbing a drink. Something a little less intense.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I think I can manage that," he said, his tone shifting into something softer, warmer.
I took a seat at the table, my eyes flickering briefly to Colby and the others, who seemed content to let the two of us be. As I settled into the familiar chair, the world outside seemed even further away, the weight in my chest lifting more with each passing second.
Ryan grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, sliding one across the table toward me. “So, what’s really going on?” he asked, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair, studying me like he was trying to figure out more than just my surface.
I hesitated, unsure if I should really unload on him, but something about his presence felt... safe. "I don't know," I muttered, swirling the beer bottle in my hands. "Everything just feels off lately, you know? Like I can’t catch a break." I took a deep breath. "It's been one thing after another. And I’m just... tired of trying to keep it all together."
Ryan’s expression softened even more, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "You don’t have to keep it all together by yourself, you know?" His voice was quiet, but there was a weight to it, like he meant it.
I swallowed, feeling the tension in my shoulders begin to ease. "I know," I said, meeting his gaze. "I just... I’m not good at asking for help."
“You don’t have to ask," he said with a slight smile. “Sometimes, it’s just about letting someone be there.”
The moment hung between us, the words unspoken but understood. I didn’t know what the future held, but right now, with the warmth of the bunkhouse and the quiet comfort of Ryan’s company, it felt like enough.
The new hand Rip hired sauntered in the door, saddlebag slung over his shoulder, guitar case in his hand.
“You play that guitar?” Ryan stood, leaning against the wall.
“Nope, I just like to drag this fucking thing around,” the hand said. “Why y’all wanna hear one?”
I gave a nod moving to stand in Ryan’s orbit. Instinctively he draped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. It felt like being home being in his arms.
Ryan’s fingers brushed idly against my shoulder, a quiet reassurance as the music filled the space. His touch was casual to anyone looking, but I knew better. It was an anchor—something solid in the whirlwind of everything else.
The new hand’s voice was rough, carrying the weight of a man who’d seen too much, been through more than he’d ever say out loud. The song itself bled into the cracks of the bunkhouse, settling heavy over all of us, like we were all carrying something we couldn’t put down.
Then Rip’s voice cut through the moment. “Jimmy, you’re with me. You too, Walker.”
The new hand barely reacted, just nodded as he set his guitar down. Jimmy hesitated, glancing toward me for half a second, like he wished he could just stay put. But we all knew better. When Rip gave an order, you followed it.
I watched them go, my gaze lingering a little longer on the new guy. I knew what kind of hand he was. The kind that didn’t just mend fences or drive cattle. The kind that carried the weight of secrets stitched into his skin.
I rested a hand on Ryan’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath my palm. “Has anything changed?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ryan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he exhaled, glancing toward the door Rip had disappeared through. Then, slowly, he looked back down at me, shaking his head once.
No.
Nothing had changed. Not the brand. Not the things done in the dark. Not the weight of what it meant to be part of this place.
I swallowed hard, my fingers curling slightly against his shirt. I had always known what the ranch was. What my father had built. What it took to keep it.
But I had hoped, foolishly, that maybe some things would be different.
Ryan must’ve seen it in my eyes, because his grip on me tightened just a little. “Don’t go diggin’ where you don’t want answers,” he said quietly.
I nodded, but we both knew I wouldn’t be able to help myself.
“Can I stay here with you, tonight?” I asked softly.
Ryan studied me for a long moment, his blue eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out if I really meant it. If I knew what I was asking.
“You sure?” he asked again, his voice quieter this time.
I nodded. “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.”
His jaw ticked like he was considering all the reasons this wasn’t a good idea, but he didn’t push me away. He never had. Instead, his fingers traced a slow path down my arm before he exhaled, resigned.
“Alright,” he said finally, tipping his head toward his bunk. “Come on, then.”
I followed without hesitation, slipping past the few remaining hands who were still lingering, pretending not to notice. I didn’t care. Not tonight.
Ryan sat on the edge of his bunk, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt before shrugging it off. He didn’t say anything as I toed off my boots and crawled in beside him, but the second I settled against him, his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.
I let out a slow breath, my body sinking into the warmth of his. His scent—leather, dust, and something distinctly him—wrapped around me, grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to my hair.
I closed my eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. For the first time all day, the weight in my chest eased. Maybe things hadn’t changed. Maybe they never would.
But tonight, at least, I wasn’t alone.

Chapter Text

I groaned pushing back against him as I stirred from my sleep. I was comfortable in his arms. His fingers gripped my hip tight, “Baby,” he whispered in my ear with a groan of his own, “stop.”

“Say that again,” I said turning my head so I can see his face.

“Stop,” he slipped his hand up my shirt, brushing against my skin.

“Not that,” I murmured. “The other thing.”
Ryan’s sleepy eyes flickered open, a slow, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His fingers splayed across my stomach, warm and firm against my skin. “Baby,” he murmured again, softer this time, like he was testing how it felt on his tongue.
A shiver ran down my spine. I shouldn’t have liked it as much as I did. But I did.
“Hmm,” I hummed, shifting just enough to feel the way his body responded to mine. “I think I like that.”
He groaned, tightening his grip on my hip like he was trying to hold me still, like he was fighting against every instinct he had. “You’re killin’ me,” he muttered, his voice rough with sleep and something deeper, something that made my stomach flip.
I smirked, pushing back against him again just to hear that sound one more time. “Am I?”
“Yeah,” he exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead against my shoulder. “And you damn well know it.”
I turned in his arms, my hand sliding up his chest. His heart was beating just as fast as mine. “Then stop me,” I teased, though we both knew he wouldn’t. He never could.
"I just don’t want you making too much noise and waking the whole bunkhouse," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and something else entirely.
"I can be quiet," I countered, shifting against him.
Ryan let out a low chuckle, his hands roaming higher beneath my shirt. "You?" he teased. "You're never quiet."
I felt the smirk in his voice before he even said it, his fingers tracing the bare skin beneath. "No bra?"
"Hard to sleep with one on," I murmured, my breath hitching as his touch grew bolder. "You’re lucky I still have pants on."
"Lucky?" He hummed, his grip tightening at my waist. "I wouldn’t call it that."
Ryan’s fingers traced lazy circles along my ribs, his touch both teasing and possessive. His breath was warm against my neck, sending a fresh wave of heat through me.
“You really think you can be quiet?” he challenged, voice low and full of doubt.
I tilted my head, smirking in the dark. “You doubt me?”
“Oh, I know you,” he murmured, his fingers teasing my nipple to a hardened peak. “You can try all you want, but the second I–”
The moan I let out was louder than I had anticipated.
His chuckle was deep, smug. “See? Not even two seconds in, and you’re already strugglin’.”
I bit my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “I can handle you.”
Ryan’s hand flexed, gripping me tighter. “That so?”
I turned in his arms, brushing my lips against his jaw. “You gonna test me?”
His response was a low growl, his restraint hanging by a thread. “You’re really pushin’ your luck, baby.”
I grinned against his skin. “Then push back.”
His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles along my side as his hand drifted lower, sliding over my stomach with practiced ease. The metal button of my jeans popped open beneath his touch, and the whisper of the zipper coming down sent a shiver through me.
His fingers slipped lower, teasing, exploring, igniting a fire just beneath my skin. Every inch he touched burned, heat rippling through me in waves, following the path of his hand.
"Still think I'm lucky?" he murmured against my ear, his voice thick with amusement and desire.
I could barely find my breath, let alone the words to answer.
"Shhh," he hushed me, his breath warm against my neck as his hand slipped further down, fingertips grazing over soft satin before dipping beneath.
I bit my lip, my body betraying me as I squirmed against him, chasing his touch without meaning to.
His smirk pressed into my skin. "Not so easy, is it?" he teased, his voice thick with satisfaction.
I swallowed hard, gripping his wrist, but I didn't push him away. Instead, I held on, grounding myself against the rush of heat surging through me.
“Mmm,” he groaned in my ear, his fingers slipping lower gliding over my delicate folds, “wet already?”
I bit my lip to quiet the moan that was threatening to escape.
“Do you want me to stop?” his voice rasped over my ear.
I shook my head, my breath hitching as his fingers traced slow, torturous circles against my sensitive skin.
"Didn't think so," he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. His voice was low, smug, knowing exactly what he was doing to me.
My grip on his forearm tightened as he pressed deeper, his touch sending shivers through me. I arched against him, my body answering before I could find the words.
"That's my girl," he praised, his fingers moving with practiced ease. "Just let me take care of you."
My lids fluttered shut as my legs parted, inviting him in. He slid one finger inside me, then another, stretching me just right. His thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles over my aching bundle of nerves, sending shivers rippling through my body.
A soft whimper escaped my lips as he moved with agonizing precision, teasing and coaxing me closer to the edge. His breath was warm against my neck, his voice a low rasp, "So damn responsive… always so good for me."
I bit down on my lip harder, trying to keep quiet, but he wasn’t making it easy. His fingers curled just right, hitting that spot that made my whole body tense, heat pooling deep in my core.
"Feel that?" he whispered, his thumb circling slow, deliberate strokes over my clit.
My fingers dug into his wrist, my back arching instinctively. "Ryan—" I breathed, barely more than a whimper.
"That’s it, baby," he murmured against my skin. "Cum for me."
My body trembled in his arms as I let my orgasm wash over me. It was as if all of the tension that had been swelling up finally and fully snapped. My walls clamped down tight around his fingers, coating them with my juices.
A deep, satisfied groan rumbled in his chest as he felt me come undone around him. His fingers slowed, drawing out every last tremor, savoring the way my body pulsed in his grip.
"That's my girl," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss against the side of my neck.
I sagged against him, my breath coming in soft, uneven pants. His hand lingered, fingers still lazily tracing over my slick heat as if he wasn’t quite ready to let me go.
"You okay?" he finally asked, his voice warm, tinged with amusement.
I let out a breathy laugh, turning my head just enough to meet his gaze. "Ask me again when I remember how to speak."
He smirked, bringing his fingers to his lips, tasting me with a slow, deliberate flick of his tongue. "Just as sweet as I remembered," he mused, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
Heat flared in my belly all over again, but before I could respond, a noise from the other side of the bunkhouse reminded me exactly where we were. I tensed, reality creeping back in.
Ryan chuckled, reading my thoughts. "Relax, baby. Everyone’s dead asleep." His hand slid up, settling possessively on my waist. "But if you’re that worried… guess I’ll just have to take you somewhere quieter next time."
“I’m not worried about being quiet,” I teased him, “but I would like there to be a bed I don’t have to worry about falling off the side of.”
Ryan chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening as he pulled me even closer. “You saying my bunk ain’t good enough for you?” he teased, his breath warm against my neck.
I smirked, tilting my head to look at him. “I’m saying I’d rather not end up on the floor in the middle of the night. Pretty sure that’d ruin the mood.”
He hummed in agreement, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my hip. “Alright, princess. Next time, I’ll make sure you’ve got a proper bed. One big enough for me to really take care of you in.”
A shiver ran down my spine at the promise in his voice. “That so?”
Ryan grinned, his lips brushing my ear. “You’ll see soon enough.”
“I look forward to it,” I rolled my hips against him.
“I thought I told you to stop,” he swatted my hip lightly.
I grinned against his skin, deliberately rolling my hips again. “And I thought you liked a challenge.”
Ryan let out a low groan, his fingers tightening on my waist as if trying to steady himself. “You keep that up, and I’ll forget all about that nice, big bed you were askin’ for.”
I smirked, pressing a teasing kiss to his jaw. “Maybe I don’t mind a little impatience.”
His chuckle was dark, full of heat. “You say that now, but if I take you right here, you’ll be the one beggin’ me to slow down.”
“I think someone is scared they wouldn’t be able to be quiet,” I whispered.
“I don’t want to be,” he responded, “especially when I’m balls deep inside you.”
I bit my lip at the thought and I could feel him hard pressed against my ass. A playful smile tugged at my lips as I glanced down and back up.“So how do you plan on taking care of that?”
“I was trying to let it go away on its own, like a grown-up, but you are making it impossible,” he groaned.
I shifted against him, deliberately slow, feeling his breath hitch as I pressed back into him. “Let it go away?” I teased, arching a brow. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
Ryan let out a strained chuckle, his fingers gripping my hips tighter. “Fun ain't the problem, darlin’. Keep this up, and I’m gonna forget we got a bunkhouse full of ears.”
“Maybe I want you to forget,” I shifted, lifting my hips slightly so I could push down my jeans. Struggling as I reached down to pull one leg off and then the other, without actually getting out of bed.
“What are you doing?” he chuckled softly watching me struggle.
I managed to work my way out of my jeans, dropping them on the floor beside my boots, “Removing an obstacle. Just imagine that was way sexier than it looked.”
“Everything about you is sexy,” his hand glided along my now bare thigh. “You sure you wanna do this here?”
I grinned, shifting so I could press back against him, feeling the heat radiating between us. "I think the real question is—can you handle it?"
Ryan let out a low groan, his grip tightening on my hips. "Darlin’, you keep testing me like this, and I’m gonna forget about being a gentleman real fast."
"Maybe I don’t need a gentleman right now," I murmured, letting my fingers trail down his arm.
He exhaled sharply, his resolve cracking as his hand skimmed higher up my thigh. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
I smirked, tilting my head back against his shoulder. "Yeah, I know."
“You still have these on,” his fingers traced the waistband of my panties.
“I can’t make it too easy for you,” I smirked, “besides you still have your pants on.”
He popped the button of his jeans and slowly lowered the zipper freeing himself from the confines of his pants. I smirked as he cracked.
“Just remember if we find ourselves performing in front of an audience it’s your fault,” Ryan let out a low chuckle, his breath warm against my neck, "You’re real good at pushin’ my limits, you know that?"
I shifted against him, reveling in the way his body tensed. "And you love every second of it."
His hands gripped my hips, holding me still as he leaned in, lips grazing the shell of my ear. "That so?"
"Mhm," I hummed, teasing him by rolling my hips back against his arousal. "Otherwise, you’d stop me."
Ryan let out a sharp breath, his restraint hanging by a thread. "Darlin’, the only thing stoppin’ me right now is the fact that we ain't alone."
I turned my head, letting my lips brush against his jaw. "Guess we better be real quiet then, huh?"
He groaned, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric of my panties, his other hand tugging them down just enough. "You are gonna be the death of me."
I smirked. "But what a way to go."
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he positioned himself at my entrance, inching inside me. His grip on my hip tightened as he pushed deeper. My head leaned back against his chest, feeling the satisfying stretch when he was finally buried fully inside me.
He groaned as he stilled himself, “I almost forgot how good you feel.”
Ryan’s breath was hot against my ear, his voice rough with restraint. His fingers flexed against my skin, as if grounding himself, fighting the urge to move too fast.
I let out a shaky breath, adjusting to the way he filled me. "Then don’t forget again," I murmured, rolling my hips just enough to feel him twitch inside me.
His grip on my hip tightened. "Darlin’, you keep that up, and I ain’t gonna be able to take my time with you."
A wicked smile curved my lips. "I don’t want you to."
Ryan groaned, his resolve snapping as he thrust deeper, pulling a sharp gasp from my lips. “Shh, gotta be quiet remember,” he muttered, his hand sliding up my stomach, teasing the swell of my breast.
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that to feel so good,” I muttered. I knew I had to maintain restraint or he’d stop. I didn’t want him to stop. Ever.
“I gotta move slow,” he growled, “this bed wasn’t made for you half-naked in it.”
I bit my lip, swallowing another gasp as he rolled his hips, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through me. His grip on my waist was firm, like he was holding himself back, trying to keep control.
“You keep making those sounds,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, “and I’m gonna forget all about this damn bed.”
I exhaled sharply, pressing back against him, loving the way he filled me, stretched me. “I want you to forget.”
Ryan let out a low chuckle, but it was strained, like he was barely holding on. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, darlin’.”
I smirked, gripping the arm wrapped around my waist. “Then stop holdin’ back.”
His breath hitched, and then his restraint snapped. His hips snapped forward, burying himself to the hilt, dragging a muffled moan from my lips as pleasure crashed over me.
“Fuck,” he growled, pressing a hand over my mouth, his own breath ragged. “If we get caught, it’s on you.”
I fought back another moan as I squeezed my walls around him. I felt him tense as he pulled back and then pushed back inside me.
I was hanging on by a thread and I could feel him just as close.
A low growl rumbled from his chest, and then he snapped. His pace quickened, his thrusts deeper, more desperate. I bit down on my lip, barely stifling the whimper that threatened to spill free. The need coiled tight inside me, every stroke sending me spiraling closer to the edge.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his lips brushing against my shoulder, his fingers digging into my skin. “You feel too damn good.”
I gripped his forearm, nails sinking into his flesh as pleasure surged through me, my walls fluttering around him. “Ryan—” His name slipped past my lips, breathless, pleading.
“I got you,” he muttered, his pace turning erratic, chasing his own release.
My body tightened, pleasure crashing over me like a wave, stealing the breath from my lungs. I clenched around him, and with a strangled groan, he followed, his body tensing as he spilled inside me, burying himself deep one last time.
We stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, our breathing heavy, skin slick with sweat. He pressed a lazy kiss to the back of my neck before pulling me closer, his arms wrapping around me.
“If this is what happens when you sneak into the bunkhouse,” he murmured, his voice still thick with satisfaction, “I might have to start leavin’ the door unlocked.”
“I didn’t sneak in I walked right in lights on and everything,” I teased, “I wanted to make sure I made it in the right cowboy’s bed.”
“That so?” he mused, “I don’t think anyone else would put up with your antics.”
I grinned, turning just enough to meet his gaze. "Antics? I think you mean charm."
Ryan let out a low chuckle, his fingers trailing lazily up and down my side. "Oh yeah, darlin’, that’s what we’ll call it."
I smirked, shifting to nestle closer against him. "Admit it, you’d miss me if I wasn’t around to keep you on your toes."
He hummed, pressing a kiss against my shoulder. "Probably."
"Probably?" I scoffed, pinching his side lightly.
He caught my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. "Fine," he conceded with a lazy grin, "definitely. But don’t let it go to your head."
I laughed softly, squeezing his hand. "Too late."
Ryan sighed, pulling me even closer. "Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. Now go back to sleep, some of us work in the morning.”
“Alright, can’t have you falling off your horse because of me,” I murmured feeling my body now giveaway to how tired I was.
He chuckled, the warmth of his breath tickling the back of my neck. "Wouldn't be the first time you've been the reason I lost sleep."
I smirked sleepily, my eyes already fluttering shut. "Glad to know I’m memorable."
Ryan pressed a lazy kiss to my shoulder, his hold on me tightening just slightly. "More than you know, baby."
A content sigh slipped from my lips as exhaustion finally won out, pulling me under. Safe, warm, and wrapped in the arms of the one cowboy who never let me go.
—
I groaned when I felt Ryan shift from under me, “I gotta get up, baby. You can stay here if you want.” Reluctantly I released him and slid back in the bed, mumbling, “Be careful,” as I pulled the covers up, making sure my underwear was back in place as I shifted. Last thing I wanted was the entire bunkhouse to catch a glimpse of my bare ass.
Ryan chuckled as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for his jeans. "I’ll do my best, but you makin’ it hard to leave." He stood, pulling on his shirt and fastening his belt with practiced ease.
I peeked up at him from under the covers, my voice still heavy with sleep. "You always say that, but somehow you manage."
He smirked, leaning down to brush a kiss against my temple. "Because if I don’t, Rip’ll have my ass. And as much as I’d rather be right here with you, I ain’t lookin’ to get chewed out first thing in the morning."
I hummed, my eyes slipping shut again. "Guess I’ll let you go, then."
"How generous of you," he teased before heading out of his corner of the room. He glanced back, his voice softer. "I’ll see you later?"
"Yeah," I murmured, already drifting. "Go be a cowboy."
Colby shot me a knowing look, chuckling as his gaze flicked to my jeans and the lace-lined bra discarded on the floor beside the bed. “Fancy underwear?”
I rolled my eyes, tugging the blanket higher around me. “Had to pull out all the stops,” I muttered. “Your best friend doesn’t crack easy.”
Colby smirked, leaning against the bunk. “You’d be surprised.”
“I guess I would,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes as I knew there was no way I’d be able to go back to sleep.
“Are you two plotting my demise again?” Ryan’s voice came from behind me, the sound of his coffee mug clinking against the counter.
“Your demise? Never,” I smirked, sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I reached for my jeans on the floor, trying to ignore the way the light from the window was casting an almost innocent glow across my skin.
“Stop lookin’ and turn around,” I heard Ryan call to Colby. My cheeks flushed instantly, realizing both of them had a perfect view down the front of my shirt.
I slid one leg, then the other, into my jeans, shimmying them up over my hips with a bit of effort.
“I thought she was the sweet and innocent one?” I heard Jimmy’s voice from across the room, the teasing lilt clear.
“Oh, she’s sweet,” Ryan replied, his voice full of that confident smirk I knew all too well. “But so not innocent.” He glanced over at me, his eyes catching mine with a look that sent a thrill through me.
“Ain’t there work that needs to be done?” Rip’s voice boomed as he strolled into the bunkhouse, his boots echoing against the wooden floor. The hands quickly scattered, heading out to start their day’s work, eager to avoid Rip’s sharp gaze.
“Alex,” he scolded, catching my arm with a firm grip, his eyes narrowing, “your dad would skin me alive if he knew I let you stay here.”
I shot him a quick glance, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Are you gonna tell him?” I asked my voice light but tinged with challenge.
Rip let out a low sigh, his grip on my arm loosening as he shook his head. “No, but you better wait a bit before you stroll out there,” he replied, his tone more resigned than threatening. “Give ‘em a chance to finish their chores first.”
I raised an eyebrow but nodded, figuring I wasn’t about to get any more out of him. He was right, though. It was probably best not to be seen just yet.
I finished a cup of coffee, hoping I’d given them enough time to get their day started so I wouldn’t catch any unwanted attention. I slipped out of the bunkhouse and headed toward the house.
I was almost in the clear, I stepped on the porch just as Jamie and Beth were coming out the front door. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
“You look fresh fucked, Alex. Was it good?” Beth teased.
“What are you talking about?” Jamie asked.
“You’re such an idiot, you never notice anything that doesn’t involve you. Our baby sister isn’t a little girl anymore,” Beth shot back at him then turned back to me. “Dad is down at the cabin talking to Monica and Kayce so you can sneak back up to your room and still be his little girl.”
I froze on the porch, caught in the awkward tension of their gaze. I shot a glare at Beth, my heart racing. “I’m not some little girl anymore, Beth,” I snapped, though I couldn’t deny the way her words made me feel like one again, especially in front of Jamie.
Jamie looked confused for a moment before the realization hit him, and his face flushed slightly. “You didn’t...?” he trailed off, not quite finishing the sentence, but it was clear enough.
“None of your business,” I shot back, trying to stay calm. “And I’m not sneaking anywhere.”
Beth smirked, clearly enjoying the discomfort she’d stirred up. “Sure you’re not, kid,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “But you might want to keep it quiet for now.”
Jamie, still awkwardly processing everything, cleared his throat. “Whatever’s going on, just don’t make a scene. We don’t need Dad to flip his lid again.”
“Relax, I’m not the one causing a scene,” I muttered, “Where are you two off to so early together?”
“Helena, meeting with the governor,” Jamie said.
“Both of you?” I was curious now, Jamie I understood, but Beth, not likely to find a political office in her future.
“What Daddy wants Daddy gets, right?” Beth said. I nodded at the tone but understood. If Dad pushed us for something, eventually he got what he wanted.
“Guess that’s true,” I muttered, my thoughts drifting for a moment. I couldn’t help but wonder what Dad was trying to pull now, if both of them were going to meet with the governor.
Beth caught my look and raised an eyebrow, the playful smirk on her face never quite leaving. “Don’t worry, we won’t be gone long. Just another one of those ‘family business’ meetings.”
“Right,” I said, not entirely buying it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jamie gave me a nod, still acting a little uncomfortable but doing his best to play it cool. “We’ll see you later.”
As they walked down the porch steps, I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever this meeting was about, it wasn’t just about politics. Dad’s plans always had a way of pulling everyone into them whether we wanted to be or not.
I stepped out of the shower, my gaze catching the mirror. Small bruises dotted my hip where Ryan had gripped me, their purple hue a reminder of the night before. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought—his mark on me, a subtle but undeniable claim. I liked it.
I got dressed in my gym clothes, swapping my boots and jeans for something more comfortable, wanting to make the most of the quiet time. Bozman Rodeo had called, asking me to make an appearance. As the hometown Champion, I couldn’t say no.
Hoisting my trick-riding saddle over Denim’s back, I made sure the straps were cinched tight and secure. I paused for a moment as I led him out of the barn. That’s when I saw Kayce coming back in, the wild stallion trailing behind him.
“How’d he do?” I asked, eyeing the horse.
“There’s nothing wrong with that horse,” Kayce muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. His phone vibrated on the shelf, and when he answered it, the worry was evident in his tone. It was Monica. She was hurt.
“Go,” I said, taking the reins from him. “I’ll get him settled.”
Kayce didn’t hesitate, his expression grim as he rushed out. I tied off Denim’s reins and took care of the wild stallion, making sure he was settled in the stall before my mind could wander too far.
Dark thoughts slipped away as I climbed onto Denim’s back, the familiar rhythm of his trot grounding me in the moment. I felt the weight of everything else fade as I guided him around the corral.
“You ready?” I asked, my voice calm as Denim snorted in response, his muscles shifting beneath me. He was always steady, always sure.
I slid my feet from the stirrups and stood, my balance a fluid dance with his movements as he continued his trot. With ease, I slipped my leg through the strap, leaning into the trick. My heart raced, but it wasn’t fear—it was exhilaration.
I hung low enough on his side that my fingertips brushed through the dirt, the cool earth meeting my skin, and for that fleeting moment, I was lost in the flow of the ride. Denim’s steady stride and my own practiced movements synced together, everything else forgotten in the wind and the dust.
“How does she do that?” I heard Jimmy ask, his voice tinged with admiration as I hoisted myself back into the saddle’s seat.
“She’s been doing it since she could walk,” Lloyd replied, his tone knowing, before he called out to me, “Looking good out there.”
“Thanks!” I flashed a quick smile their way, feeling the satisfaction of a solid practice session. “Y’all coming out to see me Saturday?” I asked, slipping down from Denim’s back. I grabbed my bottle of water and took a long, refreshing drink, my throat dry from the exertion.
Lloyd gave me a quick nod. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I laughed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “So, is Jimmy still the low man, or has it moved to that new guy Rip brought in?”
“Oh, Jimmy’s still low man,” Lloyd chuckled, giving me a knowing look. “But don’t worry, I ain’t lettin’ him anywhere near your horses.”
“Thank God,” I replied, grinning. “I’d be scared I’d fall off if he was responsible for saddling my horse for me.”
Jimmy groaned, clearly overhearing, and shot me a playful glare. “I can saddle a damn horse.”
Lloyd slapped him on the back, “Sure you can, Jimmy, but it’s best if we leave the fancy stuff to Alex, huh?”
I winked at Jimmy. “Exactly. Stick to the basics, cowboy.”
“If he asks,” I turned to Lloyd, knowing he’d understand exactly which he I was referring to, “I have to go to the Cattlemen’s Association with my dad tomorrow, so I won’t be back until late. Gotta help Jamie schmooze potential voters, I guess.”
“Ain’t that a fancy thing?” Lloyd quirked a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes.
“Yep,” I sighed, crossing my arms. “I ain’t looking forward to wearing a dress, but I have to.”
Lloyd chuckled. “Bet you clean up real nice, though.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let him think I’m ditching him.”
Lloyd smirked knowingly. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll pass the message along.”

Chapter Text

I applied a touch of makeup, styled my hair, and slipped into the formal dress I’d picked out for the dinner. It was barely noon, but Helena was a long drive away, so we had to leave early.
“Sweetheart, hurry up,” Dad called up the stairs. “I’ll leave without you.”
“I’m coming, Dad,” I called back, slipping on my favorite boots while carrying a pair of heels in my hand.
As I descended the steps, Dad looked up at me, freezing in place for a moment. His expression softened, something almost wistful passing over his face.
“You look just like your mother,” he murmured, shaking his head. “It’s uncanny. I haven’t seen you dressed up like that since you went to prom with that pimple-faced Avery… or Adam… or whatever the fuck his name was.”
“Adam Thompson,” I reminded him with a smirk. “And that was a long time ago.”
Dad huffed, opening the truck door for me. “Not long enough.”
As we pulled away, I glanced out the window, watching the bunkhouse fade into the distance, a small pang of longing settling in my chest.
“Whatever happened to that kid anyway?” Dad asked after a moment.
I shrugged, leaning against the window. “After Kayce broke his hand for shoving it up my dress, I haven’t talked to him. Seen his parents in town a couple times, though.”
Dad’s grip tightened on the wheel. “Knew I didn’t like that boy.”
“I didn’t like him much either,” I admitted. “But he was the only guy brave enough to ask me.”
“What were they scared of?” he asked, throwing me a sideways glance.
I snorted. “You, for starters. Then Lee, Jamie, Kayce… and even Beth. Hard to find a guy willing to take on the entire Dutton clan just to take me to a movie and dinner.”
Dad smirked, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “Damn right. Any man worth your time should be willing to face all of us and still stick around.”
I sighed, staring out the window. “Yeah, well… not many of those out there.”
Dad was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right one yet.”
I bit my lip, thinking of Ryan. If only Dad knew.
“I think maybe there’s someone closer than you think,” I tested.
“Please tell me you’re not seeing a bull rider you met on the road,” he responded.
“No, Dad,” I smiled, “I’m not dating anyone, really.” Technically not a lie. Ryan and I had never been on an actual date. Unless you counted wrangling cattle and making out in the barn after as a date. But Dad didn’t need to know that.
Dad grunted, clearly not convinced but willing to let it go—for now. “Good. Last thing I need is some rodeo cowboy sniffin’ around my daughter.”
I smirked, turning my gaze back to the window. If only he knew just how close the cowboy in question really was.
The conversation was cut short when Dad pulled off to the side of the road to a stop. A tour bus was parked, and a group of tourists was standing in the field, our field, a big grizzly not twenty feet from them.
Dad grabbed his rifle from the back seat and climbed out, “Stay here.”
“Don’t shoot him,” referring to the bear, “or any of them.”
Dad shot me a look but didn’t argue as he stalked toward the group. I climbed out after him, keeping my distance but ready to step in if needed. The tourists were oblivious to the danger they were in, snapping pictures and murmuring excitedly.
“Hey!” Dad barked, his voice carrying over the field. “Get back on your damn bus before that bear makes a meal outta you!”
A few of them jumped, startled, but one lady—their tour guide I guessed—laughed. “Relax. We’re just getting some pictures. He looks friendly.”
“He looks like he’s deciding which one of you is the slowest,” I muttered under my breath.
Dad’s patience was already wearing thin. “That’s a grizzly bear, not a damn mascot! Move. Now.”
The bear let out a low, rumbling huff, shifting its weight. The group hesitated, but I could see the first hints of fear creeping in.
I sighed and took a step closer. “Listen, y’all. He might look peaceful, but if you spook him or get between him and where he wants to go, he’ll tear through you like paper. Now, unless you wanna make the evening news as a cautionary tale, get your asses back on that bus.”
Dad pointed his rifle in the air firing off a warning shot.
The group of tourists took off, they were more afraid of my father with a gun than a rampaging grizzly.
“Alright, alright. No need to get hostile,” the leader shouted.
“We wouldn’t have to if people had an ounce of common sense,” Dad grumbled.
One by one, the tourists climbed back on board, some still snapping pictures from the windows. The bus driver gave us an apologetic nod before pulling back onto the road.
Dad exhaled sharply, lowering his rifle. The bear watched for a moment longer before turning and lumbering back into the trees.
“Idiots,” Dad muttered, shaking his head.
I smirked. “Welcome to Montana.”
—-
We were back on the road and I was thankful the conversion didn’t go back to who I was or wasn’t dating. I wondered though, what Dad would think if he knew about Ryan. He wasn’t a rodeo cowboy. He was the real thing. Genuine.
I stared out the window, watching the endless stretch of open land blur past, my fingers idly tracing patterns on the leather seat. Ryan wasn’t some hotshot bull rider chasing fame, and he sure as hell wasn’t some rich rancher’s kid playing cowboy on weekends. He was the kind of man who worked sunup to sundown, who knew the land, who understood the weight of responsibility. The kind of man my father might actually respect—if he didn’t kill him first.
Would Dad see Ryan as different? Or would it be the same old story—his little girl getting too close to a ranch hand, a man who worked for him?
I swallowed, pushing the thought away. Ryan and I hadn’t exactly put a label on whatever this was. And maybe that was for the best.
Dad tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road ahead. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”
I forced a small smirk. “Just thinking about how you almost had to shoot a grizzly back there.”
He huffed a laugh. “Would’ve been a damn shame. Ain’t the bear’s fault people are stupid.”
“No, it ain’t.”
I let the conversation settle there, but my thoughts kept drifting—to Ryan, to the bunkhouse, to the way his hands felt on my skin.
Dad wouldn’t find out. Not yet.
—
I slid my feet out of my boots and into the strappy heels I brought before my Dad helped me down. I tucked my hand in my father’s arm and let him guide me inside. There was a crowd of people, most of whom were at least twice my age.
“Your older brother will make a fine attorney general,” someone, who I couldn’t remember their name said.
“Yeah, he will. Jamie’s brilliant. He’ll do the state of Montana proud,” I kept glancing back at the door wondering where the hell that brother of mine was. And why he wasn’t schmoozing his own potential voters.
I forced a polite smile as another well-dressed guest leaned in to shake my father’s hand, offering yet another promise of support for Jamie’s campaign. My father responded with his usual gruff charm, but I could feel the tension building in his posture. This was supposed to be a show of strength, a united front—and yet, two of his children were missing.
I swirled the wine in my glass, barely taking a sip, my eyes flicking to the entrance. No sign of Jamie or Beth.
Dad finally exhaled a sharp breath, leaning over to me. “Where the hell are they?”
I shrugged. “Beth does what Beth wants. And Jamie—maybe he’s finally grown a spine and decided to do the same.”
He grunted, clearly not amused. “They know how important this is.”
“Do they?” I arched a brow. “Or do they just know this is more for you than for Jamie?”
His jaw tightened, but before he could answer, someone else approached, extending their hand. I sat back, letting him shake it, my fingers tapping against my knee beneath the table.
I didn’t mind dressing up, didn’t mind playing the part. But it was damn hard to sell a united family when half of it didn’t bother to show.
—--
“We’re home,” Dad called over to me. I blinked not realizing I dozed off on the ride back. I walked with him up to the porch and glanced over at the bunkhouse, the light was still on inside.
“I’m gonna go check on my horses,” I said, placing the heels I carried on the porch railing.
“Like that?” he eyed me in my dress.
“I’m not going for a ride in it. Just making sure they’re settled is all,” I told him. Hoping like hell my father didn’t see right through me.
“You used to do that when you were little,” he said, “your mom would have you dressed up for church and the moment we got back you headed straight for the barn.” He smiled at the memory. I had a twinge of guilt that I was hiding something from him.
“Good night, Dad,” I said as he turned and walked inside.
I waited until the door shut behind him before I slipped off the porch, making my way toward the barn. The cool night air brushed against my skin, and I shivered slightly, but it wasn’t from the cold. The bunkhouse light was still on, and I could just make out movement inside.
I stepped into the barn, the familiar scent of hay and leather wrapping around me like a comfort. Denim lifted his head from his stall, snorting softly as I approached.
“Hey, boy,” I murmured, running a hand down his nose. “Just making sure you’re all settled.”
The barn door creaked open behind me, and I turned just as Ryan stepped inside, hands tucked in his pockets. His gaze raked over me, lingering on the dress before a slow smirk spread across his lips.
“Well, don’t you look fancy,” he drawled, closing the distance between us.
“Don’t get used to it,” I smirked back. “I feel like a damn show pony in this thing.”
He chuckled, reaching out to toy with the hem of my dress. “Could’ve fooled me. You wear it real nice.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t pull away. “Figured you’d be asleep by now.”
“Figured you’d be in bed too,” he countered. “Instead, you’re sneakin’ out here in the middle of the night. That dress got anything to do with it?”
I shrugged, playing coy, but he wasn’t buying it. His fingers traced a slow path up my arm, sending a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the night air.
“Maybe I just missed my horses,” I teased.
His smirk deepened. “That so? Or did you miss somethin’ else?”
“I think it’s just the horses,” my hands moved to his waist pulling him closer, my body already betraying me as he pushed me into the barn wall. “And maybe a little something else.”

“That’s what I thought,” I felt the heat of his breath on my skin as his lips pressed against the sensitive spot just below my ear.

A soft sigh escaped me as his lips trailed lower, leaving a slow, burning path along my neck. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as his hands skimmed down my sides, tracing the curve of my waist.
“You looked real pretty tonight,” he murmured against my skin.
“You should’ve seen me trying to walk in heels,” I chuckled breathlessly, tilting my head to give him better access.
“That why you ditched ‘em before sneakin’ off?”
I nodded, my heart pounding as his fingers toyed with the hem of my dress again, this time slipping just beneath the fabric. “Not exactly barn-friendly attire.”
His hands slid lower, gripping my thighs as he hoisted me up effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, my back pressing against the wooden wall behind me.
“I dunno,” he drawled, his lips brushing mine, teasing but not quite giving in. “Kinda like seein’ you all dressed up. Makes me wanna take it off you.”
“Maybe I could get dressed up for you,” I murmured, my fingers tracing slow circles against his back. “If you gave me a reason.”
His lips hovered just above mine, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what kind of reason would I need?”
“She’s trying to get you to ask her out on a date, you idiot,” Lloyd said from the shadows. “Can’t be subtle with young cowboys. Especially when their blood is running away from their brains.”
Startled Ryan almost dropped me, I clung tight to his shoulders to steady myself as my feet hit the floor.
Ryan froze, his grip tightening on me as he turned his head toward Lloyd’s voice. “Shut up, Lloyd,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a grin tugging at his lips.
I couldn’t help but laugh, my pulse still racing from the sudden shift. “You’re right, though,” I teased, glancing up at Ryan. “Maybe you should ask me out on a proper date.”
Ryan shot me a look that sent a spark of heat straight through me, his voice low and teasing, “You think I need Lloyd to tell me what to do?”
“Maybe,” I teased, “because you still haven’t asked me.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips as he took a step closer. “I’m working up to it,” he said, clearing his throat dramatically before dropping to one knee, his voice playful but sincere. “Elsa Alexandria Dutton, will you do me the great honor of joining me for dinner Saturday night after the rodeo?”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, my heart fluttering in my chest. “It would be my pleasure,” I replied, feeling the warmth of his gaze settle on me.
Lloyd chuckled and strolled out of the barn, leaving us in the warm hush of dim barn light.
"Now that’s out of the way… where were we?" Ryan grinned as he stood, planting his hands on the wall on either side of my head, caging me in.
"I think you were going to kiss me," I murmured, my hands sliding over his chest before looping around his neck.
"Was I?" he teased, his voice a low drawl as he leaned in.
His breath tickled my skin, sending a shiver down my spine, anticipation coiling tight in my stomach. My eyes fluttered shut, heart hammering, waiting—needing. But instead of the deep, toe-curling kiss I expected, his lips ghosted over my cheek in the lightest, most infuriating brush.
I groaned, tipping my head back against the wall. "I never knew you could be so cruel."
"Not cruel," he chuckled, his voice thick with amusement. "Just being a gentleman."
“Is that what we’re calling it?” I groaned.
“Since I’m courting you now,” he murmured, his voice dripping with something far too seductive for the word gentleman, “it’s only fair that I behave accordingly.”
“Courting?” I chuckled, tilting my head. “I think it’s torture.”
His lips curved into a slow, knowing grin. “Then I must be doin’ it right.”
My hands slid back down his chest, fingertips lingering just above his belt.
His breath hitched, just for a second, but I caught it. My fingers toyed with the leather of his belt, grazing the buckle as I met his gaze.
“What are you doing?” he smirked, though his voice was rougher now, edged with restraint.
“Seeing what the limits are,” I murmured, tilting my head playfully. “I never promised to be a gentleman.”
His hands flexed against the wall beside me, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Darlin’,” he warned, but I could hear it—the crack in his resolve, the battle he was already losing.
“Yes?” I looked up at him feigning innocence.
“Would you like to come inside for a while or do you need to get back?”
“Scared to be alone with me?” I asked back.
His lips quirked into a smirk, but his eyes darkened just enough to send a thrill down my spine.
“Not scared,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “Just trying to be a gentleman, remember?”
I stepped closer, letting my fingers trail up his chest again, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch.
“Maybe I don’t want you to be a gentleman,” I teased, my voice barely above a whisper.
His hands finally left the wall, settling firmly on my waist. “You’re making it real hard to keep my word, sweetheart.”
“I like you like this,” I smirked. “But if you really want to wait, I suppose I can try to behave.”
His hands flexed against me, and for a second, I thought he was going to give in. But then he chuckled low, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
I smirked. “Better make it worth it then.”
“It will be,” he whispered in my ear, “So are you staying or leaving?”
“I can stay for a little while,” I answered, my fingers running over his shoulder and down his arm, lacing my fingers with his. “It’s not NASCAR night is it?”
“No, baby, it’s not,” he chuckled as we walked together into the bunkhouse.
Inside the typical bunkhouse activities were on display. A couple of the boys playing cards, the rest relaxing doing whatever it was they were doing.
“Alex is gonna get jealous if she finds out you brought another girl back here,” Colby teased eyeing me over.
Ryan smirked, squeezing my hand as he led me further inside. “Reckon she might,” he played along, glancing down at me with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Real funny, Colby. You think I’d let him get away with that?”
“Oh it is you, barely recognized that get up on,” Colby chuckled, shuffling the deck in his hands. “But I’m pretty sure we’d be finding pieces of him scattered across the ranch if he tried.”
Ryan chuckled, pulling me closer. “Guess it’s a good thing I only got eyes for one girl then.”
“Guess it is a good thing,” I said plopping down on the worn-out sofa. I kicked my feet up on the coffee table and crossed them at the ankle catching the eyes of the other men.
“What, I’ve had to act like a lady all night. I’m exhausted.”
Ryan shook his head with a smirk, settling down beside me. “Reckon bein’ all prim and proper takes it out of you, huh?”
“You have no idea,” I sighed dramatically, stretching my arms over my head. “Smiling, nodding, pretending I care about land taxes and water rights? It’s exhausting.”
Colby snorted. “Yeah, bet that was real tough for you.”
I shot him a look. “Next time, you can take my place and schmooze a bunch of old men who smell like cigars and whiskey.”
“Nah, I’ll stick to shovelin’ shit, thanks,” Colby laughed, tossing a card at me.
Ryan draped an arm over the back of the couch, fingers ghosting over my shoulder. “You did your part, sweetheart. Now you can relax.”
“Damn right, I can.” I leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his touch as the bunkhouse buzzed around us.
“Did I tell you about the grizzly we saw out in the field?” I told him, “Huge, thought it was gonna eat a bus full of tourists.”
“I don’t think you mentioned that,” Ryan said looking over at Colby, “Guess that will be the job tomorrow.”
“Y’all aren’t gonna kill it are you?” I looked up at him knowingly.
“No, baby,” he said, though I knew he wasn’t exactly being straight with me, “we’ll just haze it off.”
“You know it’s illegal to kill a grizzly, they’re endangered.”
Ryan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We know, Alex. No one’s lookin’ to get in trouble with Fish and Wildlife.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Then swear to me you’re not gonna do anything stupid.”
Colby let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, Ryan, swear to your lady you ain’t gonna go all Yellowstone on a damn bear.”
Ryan shot him a glare before turning back to me, his expression softening. “I swear, sweetheart. We’ll just run it off, make sure it don’t come back near the cattle or the house.”
I studied him for a moment, trying to gauge whether he was telling me the full truth. “It’s not the bear I’m worried about,” I admitted. “It’s you guys getting too close and one of you ending up on the wrong side of those claws.”
Ryan smirked, pulling me a little closer. “I’ll be careful, alright? Got too much to stick around for.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered at his words. “Damn right you do.”
It wasn’t long before I felt my lids start to grow heavy. I leaned in whispering in Ryan’s ear, “I need to head home. Since you’re so keen on being a gentleman, do you want to see me safely to my door? Or should I risk running into a bear out there?”
Ryan huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Now you’re just manipulatin’ me.”
I grinned. “Is it working?”
He sighed dramatically but stood, offering me his hand. “C’mon, princess, let’s get you home before you start claimin’ there’s wolves, too.”
I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. “Wolves don’t worry me,” I teased. “It’s the bears and cowboys I gotta watch out for.”

Colby snickered. “She’s got you figured out, man.”

Ryan shot him a look but didn’t argue, instead leading me toward the door. “Let’s get you home, trouble.”
—
I woke early, ready to train. The morning air was crisp, so I zipped up my tracksuit top and headed out. As I passed the corral, I stopped short—Beth was there with a horse.
She hadn’t ridden since she was fourteen, not since the day we lost our mother. She blamed herself for it. A moment of fear, a spooked horse, and a chain reaction that ended in tragedy. After that, Beth swore off riding for good.
But today, there she was.
I slowed my steps, watching from a distance. She stood by the fence, one hand gripping the rail while the other reached out hesitantly toward him. The horse sniffed at her fingers, exhaling warm breath over them.
Beth Dutton was never hesitant about anything. But right now, she looked like she was standing on the edge of something she wasn’t sure she could face.
I held back, giving her the space she needed. Over the years, I’d tried to encourage her, to tell her it was a fluke accident—that what happened wasn’t her fault. But Beth never listened. Not to me. Not to anyone.
This had to be on Beth’s terms.
So I stayed quiet and watched as she swung herself onto the horse, frustration etched into every movement. She took off around the corral, her posture rigid, her grip too tight. It was only seconds before she lost her balance and tumbled off the side, hitting the dirt hard.
Instinct screamed at me to go to her, to help her up, to show her how to do it right. But before I could take a step, the new hand beat me to it.
Maybe she’d listen to a stranger before she listened to her kid sister.
I watched as Beth climbed back into the saddle, this time easing into it, her body looser, her grip softer. She let the horse feel her, trust her, and in return, he carried her in a slow, steady walk around the corral. She was doing it. She was conquering her fear.
I should’ve been nothing but proud, but a small twinge of jealousy crept in when I caught sight of Dad watching her. The way he looked at her—like she was doing something miraculous, something no one had ever done before.
He never looked at me that way when I rode.
But I understood. For me, riding had always been second nature. For Beth, it was a battle won.
I decided against training that morning. The last thing I wanted was for Beth to think I was trying to show her up or steal her moment. This was hers—something long overdue—and she deserved to have it without distraction.
So instead, I led my horse back to his stall, running a hand down his neck before unclipping the lead. “Not today, boy,” I murmured, giving him a reassuring pat.
Some victories were more important than practice.
—
I found myself lounging on the sofa in front of the fire, the house unusually quiet except for the rhythmic clicking of Jamie’s keyboard. He sat across from me, hunched over his laptop, lost in whatever lawyer business consumed his time.
Dad had gone to town, and I knew—knew—that Beth and Jamie were keeping something about that trip from me. They weren’t exactly subtle, speaking in half-sentences and exchanging glances when they thought I wasn’t looking.
I stretched out, arms over my head, staring at the ceiling. “You gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to beat it out of you?” I teased, though there was an edge to my voice.
Jamie barely looked up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered, watching him closely. He was lying.
“Get your dirty sneakers off the couch by the way were you raised in a barn?” He teased trying to distract me.
“Yep, the same one you were,” I retorted but put my feet on the floor, “Why has Dad gone to town? I know he’s not at the livestock office.”
Jamie smirked but didn’t look up from his screen. “Probably handling business, like he always does.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Bullshit. If it was just business, you and Beth wouldn’t be acting all secretive about it.”
Jamie sighed, rubbing his temple. “Look, it’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
I huffed, crossing my arms. “Fine. But if whatever’s going on comes back to bite us in the ass, don’t expect me to play dumb.”
Jamie finally looked up, his expression unreadable. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You know I’m gonna keep bothering you and you’ll never get any work done until you tell me,” I said.
“You’d be amazed how focused I can be,” he wasn’t budging.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Jamie, come on. You know I’m just gonna wear you down eventually.”
He glanced up briefly, then back at his screen. “You overestimate your powers of persuasion.”
I smirked. “Do I? Because last time I checked, I got you to sign that permission slip for me to ride in my first rodeo when I was fourteen—after Dad said no.”
“That was different,” he muttered.
I tilted my head. “Was it? Or do you just not want to admit that I always get my way?”
Jamie sighed, fingers pausing over the keyboard. “It’s complicated.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Complicated how?”
He exhaled sharply. “Complicated as in—Dad doesn’t want you involved. And for once, I actually agree with him.”
That got my attention. “Now you have to tell me.”
Jamie shook his head. “No, I really don’t.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Jamie—”
He cut me off. “Let it go, Alex.”
I hated when he called me that in that tone—like he was older and wiser and actually had authority over me.
“I am an adult, you know. And maybe—just maybe—I could actually help this family,” I said, crossing my arms.
Jamie barely looked up from his laptop. “You’re not exactly acting like one,” he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice.
I smirked. “Well, I’ll find out eventually. And when I do, I won’t talk to you for days. Maybe even weeks.”
Jamie exhaled sharply, typing faster. “Can that ‘not talking’ start now, please?”
I scoffed, crossing my arms as I leaned back into the couch. "Real mature, Jamie. You know, for someone who spends all day buried in legal jargon, you sure do suck at negotiations."
He didn’t look up from his laptop. "This isn't a negotiation. It's me telling you to mind your own damn business."
I narrowed my eyes. "Last I checked, this is my business. It’s our family, Jamie. Whatever’s going on, it affects me too."
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Alex, just trust me on this one, alright? Let it go."
I didn’t want to play the card but Jamie had left me no choice.
“Lee would tell me,” I looked at Jamie, “if he knew.”
That’s what finally broke him.
“Dad had cancer,” he said. “He’s at the doctor making sure it’s all gone.”
I sat still staring at my brother.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I felt like the world was crashing in on me again. I just got to a good place with my father. Was that just because I was going to lose him too?
“Dad didn’t exactly tell any of us. Beth and I found out from the governor,” he said, “he explicitly told us not to tell you guess he didn’t want to see your face looking like that.”
I was stunned, the words barely registering as they hit me. It felt like the ground beneath me had shifted, and suddenly, everything seemed so uncertain.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?" I repeated my voice barely above a whisper. The pain was there, raw and sharp. I'd spent so many years battling with my father, but we'd finally started to make peace. And now this? I couldn’t process it.
Jamie sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated by the situation too. "Dad didn't want you to worry. He thought if you knew, you'd be distracted from everything else going on. We didn’t know how to tell you... and he insisted we keep it quiet."
I couldn't look away from Jamie. "I would’ve wanted to be there for him, Jamie. I would’ve—"
But the words trailed off. What could I say? How could I process the fact that my father—my tough, unyielding father—had been facing something so big, and I hadn’t even known?
"Don't let him know you found out like this," Jamie added quietly, his gaze softening as he finally met my eyes. "He didn’t want you to feel like this... but now that you know... don't go making it harder on him."
“He’s ok, now?” I asked chewing on my lip.
“That’s what he said,” Jamie responded trying to go back to his work.
“Jamie?”
“What?”
“Some guy is peaking in the window,” I pointed.
“Stay here,” he said turning to stare at the man. He moved quickly grabbing the rifle that was kept by the door.
I froze, eyes locked on the man peeking through the window. My heart raced as Jamie moved with a calmness that sent a chill through me. The tension in the room was thick, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
“Stay inside,” Jamie said, his voice firm but quiet, before he slipped out of the room. I heard the door creak open as he stepped outside, rifle in hand, but my mind was already running wild.
Was it someone from the ranch? A trespasser? Or worse, someone with bad intentions?
I stayed by the window, barely daring to breathe as I watched Jamie confront the figure. The seconds dragged on, each one stretching my nerves thinner and thinner until Jamie finally gestured for me to stay put.
His face was unreadable, but the tension in his stance told me everything I needed to know: this wasn’t a random passerby.
Jamie turned his back to the window, his eyes meeting mine through the glass as he spoke to whoever it was outside.
I let out the breath I’d been holding when the man outside threw a manila envelope at Jamie and stormed away.
“What is it?” I called out from the doorway.
“When did you become so nosy?” he walked back inside carrying the folder.
“Have you met me before?”
“Go to law school, then I’ll explain it to you,” he said. “I’ll be back later. Stay out of trouble.”
I raised an eyebrow at Jamie as he turned to leave, but my curiosity got the better of me. I stepped inside, looking at the manila envelope in his hand, my mind racing with questions.
“Are you really just going to leave me hanging?” I asked, following him toward the door.
“Don’t make me regret telling you anything,” Jamie warned, but the smirk on his face told me he wasn’t entirely serious. “And for the record, no. You don’t get to know until I read it first.”
“Fine, lawyer boy,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “But when you’re done with your big mystery, I want answers.”
Jamie shook his head, his lips twitching as though trying to suppress a grin. “Stay out of trouble, Alex,” he said again before heading out.
I watched him leave, waiting for the door to close before I looked back at the envelope. Whatever it was, it was about to turn the day upside down.
—--

I lounged back on the sofa keeping my feet off the seat as I thought about all the secrets that we kept from each other. The secrets my brothers and sister were keeping from me and Dad and the ones I was keeping from them and him. I suppose I couldn’t blame them. None of us really knew the right way to talk to each other. The right thing to say, so we just didn’t say anything and kept our secrets.

My secret though didn’t affect just me. So it wasn’t only mine to share.

Dad’s boots on the hardwood brought me out of my thoughts, I sat up and looked at him. He looked like he was about to double over. I rushed to his side.

“Who told you?” he grumbled.

“Don’t worry about it, what do you need, Dad?” I asked.

“I need you to keep an eye on Tate,” he said, “he’s in the kitchen.”

“But what about you?”

“Just do what I said,” he barked.

“OK, Dad,” I responded.

I nodded, not questioning him further, and hurried toward the kitchen. The weight of the situation was heavy, and I could tell he was struggling more than he was letting on. Tate was sitting at the island wringing his wrists.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“Don’t know,” he responded.

“You hungry?” I asked.

“I guess. What can you make?” Tate questioned.

“Frozen pizza,” I opened the freezer, “we’re all out of frozen pizza.” I glanced at the stairs wondering if I should stay in the house or leave Dad to himself. Dad would hate me hanging all over him. So I decided to leave Dad to himself.

“You wanna go see what the cowboys are having for supper?”

“Sure,” Tate said excitedly.

I grabbed my jacket and motioned for Tate to follow me as we made our way toward the bunkhouse. The sound of the cowboys’ voices carried through the crisp evening air, a mix of laughter and casual conversation. They were always good for a meal, even if it was something simple. The smell of grilled meat hit us before we reached the barn door, and I could feel Tate's stomach rumbling in agreement.

“Look who’s here,” Colby greeted me with a grin.

“My culinary skills are well non-existent and I didn’t want my nephew to starve. What do y’all have cooking?”

“Russlin’ up some chili, got plenty,” Lloyd said. “Grab you a bowl.”

“What do you think, Tate?” I asked him.

He nodded and sat down in the chair. I filled him a bowl, probably more than an eight-year-old should have, and put it in front of him.

“Y’all have anything to drink besides beer and whiskey?” I asked.

“You sure you’re not old enough to drink?” Lloyd teased Tate, who just laughed.

Colby dug way back into the back of the fridge and pulled out a Coke that had probably been there for years. I gave him a nod of thanks.

Tate’s eyes lit up when he saw the Coke, and I couldn't help but chuckle at how easy it was to please him. "Thanks, Colby," I said as I took the can from him, popping the tab. "You could probably sell that Coke as a vintage item."
"Anything for my best friend’s girl," Colby grinned, his voice thick with mock sincerity.
Tate took a big gulp, his eyes never leaving the chili. "This is gonna be awesome," he said, digging into his bowl.
I glanced across the bunkhouse catching a glance at my cowboy, his smile lit up the room as he was retelling a wild tale of the adventure he’d had that day.
“New guy,” I called, “What’s your name again?”
“Walker,” he answered.
“You wanna liven the place up a little,” I motioned to his guitar.
“I suppose I could do that,” he opened the case and started playing an upbeat country song.
The sound of Walker's guitar filled the room, the upbeat melody bringing an infectious energy that had everyone turning their heads and tapping their feet. Even Tate stopped eating for a second, watching in awe as the new guy strummed with confidence.
I grinned, leaning back in my chair. "Now that's what I call entertainment," I said, nodding along to the rhythm.
Ryan shot me a look, his smile never fading. "You just couldn't resist, could you?" he teased.
I shrugged, a playful glint in my eye. "A little music never hurt anyone. Besides, you could use some competition in the storytelling department."
Walker’s fingers danced across the strings, his voice following suit as he started to sing.
“Dance with me?” I called over to Ryan as I stood from my chair. He grinned. I didn’t actually know if could dance or if he would dance. But he surprised me slipping his arm around me, placing his hand gently on the small of my back and taking my hand, two-stepping with me around the bunkhouse.
I couldn't help but smile as he pulled me close, guiding me with surprising ease. His steps were steady, and I quickly fell into rhythm with him, the music spinning us around the room in a way that felt natural.
“Not bad for a cowboy,” I teased, raising an eyebrow.
He chuckled, his eyes locking onto mine. “Guess you could say I’ve picked up a few moves over the years.”
I laughed softly, letting myself relax into his hold. His hand at my back was warm, reassuring, and for the first time in a while, I wasn’t thinking about everything I’d been holding in. It was just the two of us, moving together to the beat, as the sounds of the bunkhouse and the music faded away into the background.
It was one of those moments where time seemed to slow down, and I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

Chapter Text

It was Saturday morning, and instead of training for the rodeo, I was on the phone, trying to find Jamie. He didn’t come home last night. He wasn’t answering his phone. And there was another crisis on the ranch.

The bear.

Yep, the bear. He was dead. Rip had shot it. After it had run two people off a cliff. But we had Fish and Wildlife up our ass. With no end in sight.

“He had better be in a fucking ditch,” I groaned after I dialed his number for the fifteenth time.
The frustration boiled inside me as the phone rang again, and I could feel the tension in my shoulders. Jamie was always hard to track down, especially when he was avoiding me. But this? This was ridiculous.
I dropped my phone onto the table, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. The bear, Rip shooting it, the Fish and Wildlife hassle—it was all too much to deal with on top of everything else.
I knew Jamie wasn’t hurt, he was campaigning for Attorney General. His big shot to be someone other than just John Dutton’s second son.

Running for Attorney General wasn’t just a career move; it was Jamie’s escape route. His way of proving he was something else, someone else, outside of the Dutton legacy. But with that ambition came a whole lot of pressure. And pressure, I knew, made Jamie shut down.

I let out a frustrated sigh, pacing the living room. There were too many unknowns right now, and Jamie’s silence was adding fuel to the fire.
I grabbed my phone again, dialing his number one more time, hoping this time he’d answer. But of course, it went straight to voicemail again.
“Jamie, this isn’t funny anymore,” I muttered to myself. “Where the hell are you?”
I shot a quick text, hoping he might pick up on it: We need to talk. I need you here, now.
If he wasn’t home soon, I’d have to go looking for him. Maybe he was holed up in some random office, dealing with his campaign stuff. And if he didn’t come home soon... well, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next.
My phone rang, not Jamie but Dad, “Rip make it back yet?” Dad didn’t have time for pleasantries.

I glanced out the window, “I see him coming. Fish and Wildlife lady is waiting outside so they outta be heading that way soon. I’ll call Bozeman tell ‘em I had a family emergency and can’t perform tonight.”

“Don’t do that sweetheart. You earned it. Sorry, I won’t be able to be able to make it to see you.”

“I understand, Dad. Be careful.”
I hung up the phone, the weight of my dad’s words settling in. He was always so focused on the ranch, on getting things done right, that it was rare for him to admit he couldn’t make it. He wasn’t one to let down his family, even if it meant missing out on something important.
But I wasn’t about to let that affect me. I had work to do, responsibilities to manage, and I wasn’t going to let this bear situation mess up my plans. Besides, with Rip back and Fish and Wildlife outside, I knew the situation would be in good hands.
I walked up the steps, not as excited as I would have been under other circumstances, but Dad wanted me to go, so I would. I grabbed my new riding costume and headed out to the barn.
The trailer was already hitched, and Lloyd was loading Denim inside. I double-checked my gear before tossing my bag in the backseat of the truck.
“We’re all ready to head out whenever you are, darlin’,” Lloyd said.
“Y’all are still coming with everything going on?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Your dad said there wasn’t much we could do but wait around, so we might as well go have a good time,” he replied with a shrug.
“So who did you rope into helping me on the field?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light, though there was a nervous edge to it.
Ryan flashed a grin and adjusted his hat, stepping out from the barn where he'd been working with Denim. “I volunteered for the job,” he said, his voice warm and casual.
I couldn't help but notice how good he looked in his best shirt, the one he only wore when things were getting serious—serious in a way that made him stand taller, exude that confident cowboy charm. His town hat sat low, giving him an air of authority, the kind that made me feel like he could command anything around him with just a look.
A flush crept up my cheeks, a mixture of heat from the moment and the memories of everything we had shared. My heart skipped in an almost involuntary beat.
“I was hoping you would,” I said, unable to keep the softness in my voice as I looked up at him, feeling that fluttering sensation in my chest. The kind of flutter I hadn’t experienced in a while, the kind that made everything feel a little lighter, a little more possible.
Ryan's eyes softened as he looked at me, and I could see the unspoken understanding between us. There were no words needed. We figured out how to be around each other, even when the world around us felt like it was trying to pull us in a thousand directions.
“You two head out,” Lloyd said, answering the unspoken question that had been hovering between us, “and we’ll follow behind you.”
I gave him a nod and a grateful smile before making my way to the passenger side of the truck. As I reached for the door handle, I heard Ryan's voice behind me.
“Close that damn door,” he said, sounding both amused and serious.
Confused, I turned to face him. “What?”
He simply raised an eyebrow, his smile growing as he stepped forward. “Just close it.”
I hesitated for a moment but followed his instructions, shutting the door before he reached over, opening it for me with a smooth motion. His hand hovered in the air, offering assistance.
I couldn't help but laugh. “You’re an idiot,” I teased.
Ryan smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. “I think you meant to say gentleman,” he shot back, his tone teasing yet soft. “But we’ll work on that.”
I grinned, feeling lighter than I had all day, as he closed the door behind me and we pulled out. It was the little things, these moments with him, that made everything else seem easier to handle.
I glanced over at him as he drove, savoring the rare moment of just being alone with him. At the ranch, privacy was a luxury we never truly had—someone was always around, a chore always waiting, an interruption always looming. But right now, it was just the two of us, the road stretching ahead and the quiet hum of the truck filling the space between us.
“You know I don’t expect you to be a gentleman, right?” I said, breaking the silence. “I just want you to be you.”
“I know, baby,” he murmured, reaching over and taking my hand in his. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, a small, absentminded gesture that sent warmth through me. “I just want you to know—I’m not just trying to fuck the rancher’s daughter.”
My breath caught. The words hit like a slow-burning ember, sparking something deep in my chest. He remembered. Months had passed since I’d thrown that accusation at him, and now, here he was, bringing it up—not with anger, not with resentment, but with something softer. Something honest.
I swallowed, my fingers tightening around his. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know it was never just that… even back then.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice steady, reassuring. “You had every right to feel how you felt. I didn’t make it easy for you. I let my ego get in the way, let myself believe stupid shit when I should’ve just trusted you.”
I turned my gaze back to the road, watching the miles slip by, the weight of old wounds easing if only just a little. “We’re here now,” I said quietly.
His grip on my hand tightened. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We are.”
I wanted to say it then, but I didn’t. I felt it but didn’t want to ruin it again by saying words I wasn’t sure he was ready to hear from me yet. I never stopped feeling it.
—--
The arena was packed, the energy electric, but my focus was on the front row—the section filled with cowboys. My cowboys. Every single one of them had shown up, their presence a silent show of support. All except for my favorite one, who was back at the stalls, saddling my horse while I shimmied into my riding outfit.
I dusted my face with makeup, added the final touches, and then went heavy-handed with the glitter—across my arms, my chest, even a light dusting over my shoulders. If I was going to shine, I was going to shine.
"You know I’m gonna find that shit in places I didn’t even know I had for weeks,” Ryan smirked as he leaned against the stall door, watching me.
I grinned, dipping my fingers into the glitter pot again just for effect. “I have to leave my mark on you somehow. Keep all the other horny girls away.”
His laugh was low, amused. “Or, and hear me out here, you could just tell them I’m taken.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” I teased before stepping over to Denim and adding a light dusting of glitter to his haunches, making sure my horse was just as show-ready as I was.
Ryan folded his arms, still watching me with an eyebrow raised. “So what was that about turning into a vampire?”
I paused, then smirked. He didn’t know. Oh, this was going to be fun. “Never mind,” I said sweetly.
His suspicious glance deepened. “No, no, you don’t get to do that. What does vampires have to do with anything?”
I patted Denim’s neck, grinning to myself. “Don’t worry about it, cowboy. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Ryan had no idea what he’d just signed up for, but someday, he was going to sit through the entire Twilight saga. Every single sparkly, dramatic minute of it.
I climbed into the saddle, settling in as the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers.
“Now entering the arena, this year's Trick Riding World Champion and Montana’s Rodeo Queen, Alex Dutton!”
The roar of the crowd sent a thrill through me, but as soon as Denim stepped forward, everything else faded away. It was just me, my horse, and the rush of the ride.
Denim burst into a trot, and I pushed up onto my feet, balancing effortlessly on his back as we surged into the arena. Cheers echoed around us, but I barely heard them over the pounding of my own heart. My body moved on instinct, the months of training kicking in as we raced along the fence line.
I swung off Denim’s side, dangling just inches above the dirt, dragging my fingers through the dust like I had practiced a thousand times. Then, with a wicked grin, I grabbed a handful and flung it at Colby as I passed. His startled curse made me laugh, but I didn’t break focus.
With fluid precision, I flipped myself backward, hanging off the back of my horse before pulling myself up again, muscles burning but exhilarated. The rush was intoxicating, the adrenaline flooding through me in waves.
I straightened in the saddle, flashing a grin at the roaring crowd and giving them a final wave before guiding Denim toward the exit. My heart was still racing, my hands shaking—not from fear, but from pure, unfiltered joy.
This. This was what I lived for.
“Hey there, cowboy,” I grinned, catching the way Ryan was watching me as I rode back into the stall. His eyes held that mix of admiration and something deeper—something that sent a flutter straight to my stomach.
“You’re magic out there, you know that?” he murmured, stepping forward and slipping his hands around my waist. The warmth of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of my riding outfit as he helped me down from Denim’s back.
“Thank you,” I breathed, still riding the high of the performance. My pulse was still thrumming, my body still buzzing with adrenaline. “I love it.”
“I know,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “I’m gonna go help Lloyd get Denim settled in the trailer while you get dressed. He’ll take your horse back so we can go from here.”
“Go?” I blinked up at him, genuinely confused.
“Dinner. Remember?” His lips quirked in amusement as he looked me over.
“Oh,” I laughed. “When you said dinner, I thought you meant hotdogs or nachos from one of the stands—not, like, dinner dinner.”
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I meant dinner dinner. With a table, real chairs, and an actual person bringing the food to us.”
“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises,” I teased.
“You have no idea,” he said, giving me one last lingering look before heading off to help Lloyd.
I stood there for a moment, watching him go, my heart still pounding—but now, it wasn’t just from the ride.
If I’d realized this was a real date, I might have packed a nicer shirt and my good boots. But I’d have to make do.
I tugged on my jeans, relieved that they still hugged me in all the right places, then smoothed out my shirt, trying to make it look at least a little more put-together. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed what I already knew—there was no getting rid of all the glitter. I swiped at it anyway, managing to dull the sparkle but not erase it completely.
It would take several showers to scrub it all off.
With a sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair, gave myself one last once-over, and stepped out. Ready or not, I had a date to get to.
I met Ryan outside the changing room, my heart giving a little flutter the moment I saw him. I’d known he was handsome from the first time I laid eyes on him, but tonight… tonight, I saw something more.
I saw someone I couldn’t imagine not being in my life.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice warm as he slipped his hand into mine.
I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded, letting him lead the way.
I let him open the truck door and help me in without a fuss. No teasing, no rolling my eyes—just letting him have his moment.
“Where are you taking me?” I quirked a brow as he slid behind the wheel.
“It’s not too fancy, I promise. I know that’s not really your thing,” he said, throwing me a quick glance. “But it’s a nice Italian place just up the road.”
“We sharing a plate of spaghetti?” I smirked over at him.
“Not unless you really want to,” he chuckled.
The truck pulled to a stop in front of the restaurant. My fingers twitched on the handle, my instinct to hop out on my own kicking in. But I held back, watching as he came around to open the door for me.
Letting him be a gentleman was hard work.
He held my hand as we walked inside the restaurant. It was a nice cozy place. Especially for one on the Bozeman strip. We sat at a quiet corner booth. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Everything looks so good,” I surveyed the menu, “What are you having?”
“The steak,” Ryan answered without hesitation, setting his menu down. “Can’t go wrong with a good steak.”
I smirked. “Of course, you’re getting a steak at an Italian restaurant.”
He shrugged. “I know what I like.”
I scanned the menu again, debating between pasta and something a little lighter. “I think I’ll go with the chicken alfredo.”
“Solid choice,” he nodded approvingly.
The waitress came by, taking our orders, ` and left us alone again. I glanced around the restaurant, the warm lighting and soft hum of conversation creating a surprisingly cozy atmosphere.
“This is nice,” I admitted, looking back at him.
He grinned. “Told you I knew what I was doing.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Don’t get too cocky, cowboy. The night’s still young.”
“I know, I’ve got more surprises in store for you,” he responded.
“Do you?” I quirked a brow, “I’m all ears.”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now,” he said, “patience is a virtue.”
“I lost that a long time ago,” I smirked.
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I kinda figured that out about you.”
I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand. “So, you’re just gonna keep me guessing all night?”
“That’s the plan,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. His eyes twinkled with amusement, like he was enjoying this little game.
I sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I hope you realize I’m terrible at waiting.”
“Oh, I know,” he smirked. “Makes it more fun for me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but before I could fire back, our food arrived, filling the space between us with the rich aroma of butter, garlic, and seared steak.
“Alright,” I said, picking up my fork, “but if your surprise sucks, I get to pick next time.”
Ryan grinned. “Deal. But I guarantee you’ll love it.”
The food was delicious. After I was certain I couldn’t eat another bite. I was talked into desert, tiramisu.
I closed my eyes and took a bite of the decadent cake with a soft moan, “That is good. You want a bite?”
Ryan watched me with a smirk, his beer paused halfway to his lips. “After that reaction? Hell yeah, I do.”
I laughed and slid the plate toward him, scooping up a bite with my fork before holding it out. He leaned in, lips closing around the fork as his eyes stayed locked on mine.
“Damn,” he muttered after swallowing. “That is good.”
“Told you,” I grinned, taking another bite for myself.
Ryan shook his head. “You could’ve just let me get my own, but nah, you had to make it all seductive.”

I smirked. “If that was seductive, you’ve been deprived, cowboy.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “Maybe I have been. You gonna fix that?”
My stomach flipped, but I kept my cool, licking the last bit of cream off my fork before setting it down. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
The waitress placed the check down on the table and he glared at me a moment as I started to reach for my purse. I raised my hands in surrender.
He shoved a few bills on the table, giving a generous tip.
“When you do the askin’ you can pay,” he said, I had a feeling he wouldn’t let me do any asking but I’d work on that eventually.
“Glad you are a modern gentleman,” I took his hand and let him lead me out of the restaurant and back to the truck.
Ryan opened the truck door for me again, and I didn’t fight him on it. I settled into the passenger seat, glancing at him as he slid into the driver’s side. His smile was a little smug, but I didn’t mind.

“Thank you, I had a really good time,” I said looking over at him, maybe it was the wine, but damn did he look sexy in the dashboard light.

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, but the night’s not over yet,” that smile of his tugged at his lips.

“Oh?” I quirked a brow. “You know you missed our turn back there, right?”

“I didn’t miss our turn,” he glanced over at me, “I recall someone wanting a big bed.”

“Oh, who was that?” I teased.

He shot me a playful glance, his eyes flicking between the road and me. "I believe it was you," he said with a grin that sent a thrill down my spine.
I laughed, leaning back in my seat. "You really know how to keep a girl on her toes."
"I try," he said, his voice lowering a little as he turned the truck onto a different road. "But I promised you surprises, didn’t I?"
I wasn’t sure what he had planned, but the anticipation made the drive feel even longer. “You’re a smooth talker, I’ll give you that.”
“I’m not the only one who knows how to talk, though,” he smirked, his hand briefly brushing mine as he shifted gears.
He pulled the truck into the lot of a small little hotel.

“This isn’t one of those pay-by-the-hour places with scrambled porn on the TV, is it?” I teased.

“Of course not, baby, I paid for the whole night. Not sure about the porn situation, I suppose I could ask at the front desk if you’re interested,” he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the smile that crept across my face. "I think we’ll pass on the extra entertainment for tonight."
He laughed, pulling the keys from the ignition as he turned to face me. "You sure? You never know, they might have something with better taste than scrambled porn."
I grabbed my bag, shaking my head. "I’m not that desperate."
Ryan raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes as he climbed out of the truck. "Guess we’ll have to find out what is going to keep you entertained then."
I stood up, stretching a little as I glanced around the lot. It was quiet, secluded enough to feel private but not sketchy.
“So Mr. Gentleman, lead the way.”
His grin was all teeth as he reached for my hand.
I had to admit to myself I was nervous when we got to the room. This would be the first time that we were completely alone. That we could take our time with each other. And I didn’t thoroughly prepare for it.
I went through the mental checklist, legs shaved, hair washed, waxed? Shit, I was going to do that yesterday but got distracted with all the stuff going on at the ranch.
I looked up at him, “I um need a minute.” Pointing to the bathroom.
“OK, baby,” he pressed a soft kiss to my cheek and slipped further into the room as I stowed away in the bathroom.
I shut the door behind me took off my boots and stripped down to my bra and panties. At least I’d remembered to wear a matching set.
I cracked the door calling out, “Ryan, did you bring a razor?”
“I wear a beard, no, I didn’t bring a razor.”
“Shit,” I muttered, “I’m almost done.” I lotioned my legs with whatever tiny bottle was on the bathroom vanity. I gave myself a once over, adjusting my boobs a little in my bra.
“You ok in there?” Ryan asked from the other side of the door.
I smiled to myself, a little amused by how sweetly he was checking on me. "Yeah, just making sure everything's perfect."
I could hear the chuckle in his voice as he answered, "You always look perfect to me, you know that?"
That made my heart flutter. I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth from his words. There was no need to overthink this. It was just us, in this moment. I opened the door slightly, peeking through at him, trying to keep my nerves in check.
"Alright," I said, a little more confidently now. "I’m ready."
Ryan was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, but his smile was warm, reassuring. "You sure? 'Cause you know you can take your time."
I nodded, stepping out of the bathroom, "I'm sure."
His eyes ran over me and I saw the hunger in them, but this softness made me feel safe, like I was exactly where I needed to be.
"You're more than just ready," he said, taking a step closer. "You're beautiful."
I rested my elbow against the wall, subtly arching my chest and cocking my hip to the side, mimicking the sultry poses from the pin-up pictures the boys had hanging in the bunkhouse. A coy smile played on my lips as I met Ryan’s gaze, daring him to make the next move.
“Now that you have me here, cowboy,” my lids fluttered when I looked at him, “what are you gonna do with me?”
“Don’t know,” he smirked as his eyes traveled over me, “thought maybe we could catch the end of the game.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, “You are not funny.”
Ryan chuckled, closing the distance between us with an easy confidence that sent a thrill down my spine.
"Aw, c'mon, baby," he teased, his hands finding my waist. "You know I love riling you up."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at my lips. "You keep teasing me, cowboy, and you might end up sleeping alone tonight."
His smirk deepened as he leaned in, his breath warm against my skin. "That so?" His fingers trailed slow, deliberate circles against my hips. "Guess I better make it up to you then."
“I think you shou–,” my words cut off by the feel of his lips on my neck, slow deliberate. I felt his smirk against my skin when I melted into his arms. He knew he’d won.
His hands slid up my back, pulling me flush against him as his lips traced a slow, teasing path along my throat. My breath hitched, and I gripped his shoulders, not sure if I wanted to push him away just to make him work for it or pull him closer to let him know I was his for the taking.
“You were sayin’?” he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with amusement.
I swallowed hard, tilting my head to give him better access. “I think…” My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “I think you should stop talking.”
Ryan chuckled low and deep, the sound rumbling through me as his hands wandered lower. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered before claiming my lips in a kiss that left no room for argument.
I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, tugging it free from his jeans before sliding it down his arms. My fingers traced over the hard planes of his chest, mapping the dips and ridges, heat radiating from his skin beneath my touch.
Ryan’s hands skimmed my sides as he walked me backward, his lips never breaking from mine. A slow, deliberate tease that sent fire curling low in my stomach. My knees hit the edge of the bed, and I tumbled onto the mattress, pulling him down with me.
A soft groan escaped my lips at the cool press of his belt buckle against my bare stomach, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body caging me in. His breath was heavy, his eyes dark as he hovered over me, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns against my skin.
He stood, tugging off his boots, tossing them to the other side of the room. His hands moved to his belt.
“Wait,” I placed my hands over his as I sat up on the bed.
“What’s wrong, baby?” his eyes dark as they stared down at me.
“Let me do it.”
Ryan’s breath hitched as my fingers worked his belt free, the leather sliding through the loops before dropping to the floor with a soft thud. I kept my eyes locked on his, pressing a lingering kiss to the taut skin of his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath my lips.
I took my time, teasing him as I popped open the button of his jeans and dragged the zipper down at an agonizing pace. His hands twitched at his sides, jaw tightening as he let me take control.
“Damn, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with anticipation.
I smirked against his skin, reveling in the way his breath came quicker, his restraint slipping.
My tongue traced slow, teasing circles over his skin, my hand slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, fingers trailing along the rigid heat of him. A sharp inhale escaped his lips as I pushed his jeans lower with my other hand, fabric rustling as it pooled at his feet.
His breath hitched when I finally freed him from the last barrier between him and my mouth. I lifted my gaze, watching his expression shift—his eyes dark with hunger. His fingers slid into my hair, a soft but possessive touch that sent a shiver through me.
Holding his gaze, I ran my tongue along his length, slow and deliberate, savoring the way his body tensed beneath my touch. A deep, throaty groan rumbled from him as I took him into my mouth, heat coiling low in my belly at the way he watched me—completely undone, completely mine.
I took my time, tasting and teasing every inch of him, savoring the way he responded to every flick of my tongue and every slow stroke of my lips. I’d never had the chance to before—not like this. Just us, with the rest of the world feeling a thousand miles away.
His body tensed beneath my touch, the grip in my hair tightening as he fought for control. I could feel it—the way he was holding back, restraint warring with need. Slowly, I pulled away, my lips brushing against his skin as I looked up at him, my voice a breathy whisper.
“I want it. Please.”
“You sure, baby?” he groaned, his voice strained as he teetered on the edge.
I met his gaze, nodding, then wrapped my lips around him again. My fingers gripped his length, stroking in rhythm with every flick of my tongue, every deep pull. His restraint shattered, his body tensing before he let go with a deep, guttural moan. The warmth of his release coated my tongue, and I swallowed, savoring the way he trembled beneath my touch.
I slowly slipped him from my mouth, licking my lips as I looked up at him with a sweet, satisfied smile.
“Was that okay?” I teased.
He let out a breathy chuckle, still catching his breath. “You damn well know that was more than okay.”
Ryan collapsed onto the bed, pulling me up against his chest. His heartbeat was still heavy beneath my cheek, his fingers lazily trailing up and down my spine.
“See how much fun you can be when you’re not trying to be a gentleman?” I teased, nuzzling my nose against his neck.
He let out a low chuckle, his breath warm against my hair. “You’re about to see just how much I’m not a gentleman… just as soon as I catch my breath.”
I smirked, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. “You? I think I did all the work there, cowboy.” My fingers traced the sharp lines of his jaw, feeling the heat of his skin still lingering.
That grin of his turned wicked, a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. “You think so, huh?”
Before I could react, he shifted, rolling me onto my back with effortless ease.
My heart thumped a wild rhythm as he leaned in, the heat of his words danced over my ear, “I’m going to enjoy taking my time with you.”
His beard tickled my skin as his lips and tongue moved slowly down my neck, placing gentle kisses on my collarbone. He palmed the swells of my breasts still covered by satin and lace. His fingers slid slowly up the strap slipping it down my shoulder before pulling me up in his arms slightly to unhook it in the back.
He looked down at me eyes dark and wanting, “You are perfect.” Ryan pressed his lips to the mounds of my breasts, licking and sucking the sensitive skin. He paused a moment. His fingers brushed over the butterfly tattoo beneath my right breast, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.
“This is new,” he murmured, his gaze tracing the delicate lines of the tattoo.
“I got it while I was on the road,” I explained softly, the memory of those carefree days with the barrel racers still vivid. “We all got matching ones. I wanted mine in a place no one would see... except you.” My voice dropped on the last words, as I met his gaze, feeling the weight of the confession.
He let his gaze drift down my body, his fingers teasing the waistband of my panties, then arched an eyebrow. “I’m not gonna find any surprises down here, am I?”
I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks flush. “Not the kind you're thinking of,” I replied with a light laugh. “It’s just... with everything going on at the ranch lately, I didn’t have the chance to get waxed, so I’m not as smooth as I usually am.”
“Now you’ve got my interest peaked,” he murmured, his fingers slipping slowly beneath the satin fabric to trace soft circles on the skin beneath. “Not as bad as you made it sound, baby.” His lips then pressed against my stomach. “Your pussy would be hot no matter how much hair you had on it.”
I let out a soft, incredulous laugh, though my breath caught on his last word. “You say that now, but I’m not growing a ‘seventies bush’ just to test your theory.”
His fingers continued to toy with my slick folds, each touch deliberate and teasing, leaving me suspended between defiance and desire.
I lifted my hips, inviting him to slide the satin fabric down my legs. His lips brushed the inside of my knee, then trailed along my inner thigh with deliberate, teasing precision, pausing only to mirror the motion on the other side. The sensation was maddening—infuriating, even—if it hadn’t been so exquisitely pleasurable, so utterly arousing, making me want him even more.
A deep moan escaped my lips as he tasted me, his tongue and lips working magic on the most intimate parts of my body. My fingers dug into the mattress, anchoring me as my hips bucked against him. His arms tightened around my thighs, holding me close as I surrendered to the mounting pleasure. My head fell back, letting the ripples of ecstasy radiate from my core and ignite every nerve until I trembled uncontrollably. His face, nestled between my thighs, stayed there until he was satisfied—and I was left completely undone.
He kissed his way up my body, smirking as my body still trembled beneath him. He captured my mouth with his lips. I let out a moan as I tasted myself on them.
"I told you, so sweet," he murmured.
"You really are a smooth talker, cowboy," I whispered, my body still humming with the afterglow.
"That's the only way to keep you on your toes, baby," he replied, his fingers trailing along my side. "I need to ask you something—probably should've done it before you seduced me in my bunk."
"That's me—the wild seductress who makes you lose all your reasoning," I teased, my hands roaming over his arms. "So, what did you want to ask me?"
"You're still on birth control, right?" he asked, his tone turning serious.
I nodded. "Have you been worried about that?"
"I figured you'd say something if there was a problem," he said, shifting as his gaze softened. "Honestly, I wasn't too keen on having to get up and grab a condom if I don't have to."
I smiled softly, the intimacy of our conversation mingling with the lingering warmth between us.
"I've got you covered so you don't have to move," I murmured, running my hands along his back as I hooked my leg over his hip. "Well, you do have to move a little," I added with a teasing glint in my eyes.
He smirked against my neck as he aligned himself at my entrance. "Already wanting more, baby?"
"We've got this big bed," I replied, gripping his hip with my leg, urging him closer. "Might as well use it."
"Don't want to waste it," he said with a playful growl. With a swift, deliberate motion, he thrust slowly, groaning as he sank fully inside me.
We moved together in perfect harmony, our bodies entwining and unraveling in each other’s arms as if no years had ever separated us. In that moment, everything felt exactly as it was meant to be—an unspoken promise that I was entirely his, and he, wholly mine.

Chapter Text

“A girl could get used to this,” I murmured as I buried my face into Ryan’s chest. Dawn was peeking in through the window, a gentle reminder that our little fairytale was drawing to a close.
“I know, baby,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. “But we better get back. I can’t have folks thinking I kidnapped you.”
I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “I’ll just tell them I went along willingly. No Stockholm syndrome or anything like that,” I teased. “Next time you kidnap me, though, give me a heads-up so I can pack a toothbrush—and bring my good underwear.”
Ryan grinned and, with a playful tug, pulled my satin panties from beneath the sheet. “If these aren’t your good underwear, baby, then I’m looking forward to seeing what else you have.”
I wrinkled my nose in mock indignation and yanked them back from his grasp. “Give me those,” I said, laughing. “And tell me—where did you hide my bra?”
He pointed at the chair. I grabbed the sheet from the bed, wrapping it around myself as I moved over to retrieve my bra.
“You know, I’ve seen all of you before,” he teased, watching me struggle to cover up.
“Not in this lighting,” I retorted with a smirk. “And not all at once.”
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the desk—hair in disarray, makeup smeared, a raw reminder of the night's chaos.
“I need a shower,” I said, shooting him a look. “That’s not an invitation.”
He chuckled softly. “Wasn’t even thinking about it.”
“Yeah, you were,” I retorted with a playful edge.
“Well… it might have crossed my mind,” he admitted. “Go ahead—I promise I’ll wait here.”
I slipped into the bathroom, feeling an odd mix of anxiety and resignation. I couldn’t understand why I was so self-conscious about him seeing me like this. After all, he’d seen me covered in dirt and mud before. So why did this feel different?
Perhaps it was because this time it wasn’t about work. Outside of the ranch duties, I rarely presented myself as the polished girl that everyone expected. Sure, I was attractive—I had good boobs and kept myself in shape for riding—but I never really made the effort to look or act like a girl off the saddle. And in this moment, I realized that the unvarnished version of me was just as real as any carefully curated image.
I stepped out of the shower and slipped back into my jeans, feeling a little more like myself—less exposed, less vulnerable.
“Alex,” Ryan called softly, tapping on the door. I opened it to let him in, and of course, even with bedhead and a sleepy glimmer in his eyes, he looked incredibly sexy. In his hand, he carried a package with a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste.
“Thank you,” I said with a playful smile. “I’ll feel a lot better about kissing you if I don’t have morning breath.”
He chuckled and pulled me into his chest. “I was wondering what that was all about.”
I arched a brow. “Honeymoon phase over already?”
“If that means I get to watch you do your morning routine, then sure,” he replied with a mischievous glint.
I stepped away from his warmth, running my hands over his chest—still sprinkled with my body glitter. “You need a shower,” I teased.
Ryan smirked as he scooted past me toward the bathroom. “I thought you were branding me so those horny girls would stay away.”
I shot him a playful glare. “There aren’t any horny girls at the ranch. Unless you want to explain to my father why you’re wearing so much glitter.”
“Shower it is,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before slipping behind the curtain. “You can join me if you want.”
I hesitated, then decided it was safer to stay here. I waited until I heard the water running, then swished and spit out my toothpaste, all the while watching him from the doorway, a mix of amusement and anticipation in my eyes.
I did the room a once over, making sure nothing was forgotten before we stepped out. Back to reality.

“I’m buying you breakfast, cowboy,” I told him when we got to the truck. “None of that gentleman bullshit either.” I still let him open the door for me.

“You’re getting real bossy, princess,” he glanced up at me with that smile of his, “too used to getting your way.”

I never brought up finances with him, it was never an issue. But I knew what Dad paid the hands so I knew that Ryan had likely spent half a week’s wages taking me out. It didn’t seem fair to me.

“Please, Ryan,” I looked over at him, “let me do this.”

“Alright, fine,” he relented.
“Stopping at a drive-thru on the way doesn’t count,” I said to him as he eyed the nearest McDonalds.

“I’m not picky, baby,” he responded.
“I know you’re not, but I want to sit down somewhere,” I insisted, folding my arms as I gave him a look.
Ryan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with a smirk. “Alright, princess, pick the place.”
I didn’t bother arguing about the nickname. It was easier to let him have it. Plus, the way he said it didn’t feel like an insult—it felt like a tease, one I wasn’t entirely opposed to.
I scanned the street as we drove, looking for a diner that seemed promising. The neon sign of a little mom-and-pop place caught my eye, boasting Best Pancakes in the County in flashing red letters.
“There,” I pointed. “That looks good.”
Ryan pulled into the lot, cutting the engine before glancing at me. “You do know this probably costs the same as McDonald's, right?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but at least I don’t have to eat out of a bag.”
He chuckled as he climbed out, making his way to my side of the truck to open my door. “I thought we weren’t doing the gentleman bullshit?”
I rolled my eyes but stepped out with a smirk. “I make exceptions.”
I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we stepped food inside. I suppose a wild night with a sexy cowboy drains all of your calories. The lady behind the counter motioned for us to take a seat at an empty table.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Yes, please, cream,” I told her as we slid into the open booth.
He watched as I dumped a hefty amount of sugar and dumped three of those little cups of half-and-half into my warm cup.
“Do you even like coffee?” he chuckled.
“Not everyone drinks it black with no soal in it,” I watched him take a sip straight from the cup.
“You’re sweet enough, for me,” he grinned. “I don’t need any extra sugar.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that crept up my neck. “Smooth talker,” I muttered, stirring my coffee.
Ryan smirked, setting his cup down. “Just calling it like I see it.”
The waitress returned with a notepad in hand. “Y’all decide what you want?”
I glanced at the menu, even though I already knew. “Short stack with bacon, please.”
Ryan barely looked at the menu before ordering. “Same, but make it a full stack. And extra bacon.”
The waitress nodded, jotting it down before walking off. I leaned back in the booth, taking another sip of my coffee, watching Ryan across from me. His hair was still a little damp from the shower, his shirt slightly wrinkled. It suited him. Rugged, easygoing—like he hadn’t just turned my world upside down last night.
“So,” I started, tracing the rim of my cup with my finger, “where do we go from here?”
Ryan leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “What do you mean?”
I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it without sounding ridiculous. “I mean… was this just a one-time thing? Or are we—” I waved a hand between us, “—something?”
His lips quirked, but his eyes were serious. “What do you want us to be?”
That was the real question, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure how to answer it. I hadn’t thought past last night—past finally having him the way I’d wanted for so long.
I took a breath, holding his gaze. “I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be nothing.”
Ryan reached across the table, his fingers brushing against mine. “Then it won’t be.”
—-
I relaxed a little when we got back to the ranch. Dad and Rip were already out dealing with the whole bear situation. Jamie finally made it home last night. Got in a fistfight with our father and was told to drop out of the race for Attorney General or leave the ranch.
Jamie left the ranch.
Beth recounted the story to me with entirely too much glee. But I knew she had a strained relationship with Jamie even on their good days.
“I wish you didn’t idolize him,” she said, “Jamie will always be a snake.” I guess maybe I saw something in Jamie she didn’t. I knew who my brother was. Maybe I was rooting for him a little to be what he wanted to be.
“Sometimes it’s ok to want something other than what Dad wants,” I muttered. She wasn’t listening to me.
Beth scoffed, lighting a cigarette as she leaned against the fence. “And sometimes, wanting something different just makes you blind to the truth.” She exhaled a slow stream of smoke, eyeing me like she was waiting for me to argue.
I didn’t. Not because I agreed with her, but because I was too damn tired to get into it. Jamie had made his choice, and so had Dad. None of it was my business—not really.
Beth studied me for a beat, then smirked. “You look like hell, by the way.”
“Thanks, Beth,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and then she grinned like she’d just uncovered some dirty little secret. “Oh, wait. This isn’t about Jamie at all, is it? You’re all dreamy-eyed and distracted. Who was it?”
I frowned. “Who was what?”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Who rocked your world last night, little sister?”
I felt the heat creep up my neck, but I played it cool, crossing my arms. “None of your damn business.”
Her laughter was sharp and knowing. “Oh, it’s my business now. Spill.”
I hesitated, but Beth had a way of seeing through the bullshit. And besides, if I didn’t tell her, she’d figure it out on her own.
“Ryan.”
Beth’s smirk widened. “Well, well. Took you long enough.”
I blinked. “You knew?”
“Please,” she flicked her cigarette away, “you’ve been looking at that man like he hung the damn stars since you were sixteen.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she wasn’t wrong.
Beth looped an arm around my shoulders, tugging me close. “Just promise me one thing, okay?”
I sighed. “What?”
She met my gaze, all the teasing gone from her expression. “Don’t let him break your heart, again.”
I swallowed hard, because I wasn’t sure how to promise that.
“I’m gonna go get changed before Dad gets back,” I said then walked inside and up the steps.
I looked at myself in the mirror, did I look that much different than I had the day before? I wasn’t exactly a virgin before Ryan. And he and I had fucked each other in almost every corner of the ranch at least once. But something about last night had shifted things—it wasn’t just a stolen moment or reckless indulgence. It meant something.
Shaking the thought away, I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the lingering haze of the night. After changing into fresh clothes, I buttoned up my shirt and stepped out of my room—only to collide with a man I didn’t recognize.
He was dressed in sweats and a tank top, looking like he’d barely survived whatever the hell last night had thrown at him. Before I could ask who the hell he was, he muttered one word.
“Beth.”
“She’s probably still outside,” I replied, watching him trudge down the steps like every movement was a personal betrayal.
Curiosity piqued, I followed him downstairs and out the kitchen door to the porch—just in time to watch him stagger to the edge and violently empty the contents of his stomach into my grandmother’s rosebush.
Dad’s voice cut through the moment like a blade. “Who the fuck are you?”
I lifted my coffee mug to my lips, watching the scene unfold. “I don’t fucking know. He’s not with me.” I gestured toward the hungover mess bent over the flowers. “Pretty sure he’s Beth’s new boyfriend.”
“God, no,” Beth’s voice came from behind me as she sauntered outside. “That’s Jason. My assistant.”
I shot her a look. “Your assistant is puking in the roses.”
She took one glance at him and shrugged. “Guess he can’t handle his whiskey.”
Dad muttered something under his breath and shook his head, while Jason groaned and wiped his mouth.
Beth smirked and patted his back—maybe a little too hard. “Welcome to the ranch, city boy.”
Jason grumbled something unintelligible before retreating inside, no doubt heading for a shower to wash off both the whiskey and his humiliation.
Dad exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before turning his attention to me. “How was the rodeo, sweetheart?”
I blinked. He never asked me about the rodeo.
“It was good,” I said carefully. “Ran late, so I stayed the night in Bozeman.” It's not technically a lie—just an omission of the more interesting details. The technicalities were starting to pile up.
He nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Well, I’m glad you had a good time.” Then his expression hardened. “I’m heading out. And I don’t want you trying to run interference for your brother. Got it? He fucked up, and he’s gonna deal with the consequences.”
“Yes, sir.” There was no arguing with John Dutton when his mind was made up. Not for me, not for anyone.
Jamie had made a mess of the whole damn situation. All he had to do was pick up the phone. I knew there had to be a reason—even if it didn’t excuse it.
“Come on, little sister,” Beth’s voice cut through my thoughts as she stepped outside, Jason trailing behind her looking half alive. “We’re going on a little field trip.”
“What? Where?” I stood up, falling in step behind her. Beth never involved me in her business. Maybe she thought I was too naïve. Or maybe she just assumed I wasn’t interested in anything beyond my horse. That second part was mostly true.
“Do not put your dirty boots on my leather seats,” she warned as I slid into the passenger seat of her Bentley.
“I wasn’t going to,” I muttered, settling into the plush seat. The car suited Beth—sleek, stylish, powerful. Everything she was and I wasn’t. I drove a truck. It was practical. And covered in mud on most days.
“So,” Beth smirked as she pulled onto the road, “how was he?”
I blinked. “Did you really drag me along just to ask about my sex life?”
“You have one now, so yeah, we get to talk about it.” She pressed her foot harder on the gas. “I used to tell you about mine.”
“In excruciating detail,” I groaned.
“If I didn’t, who the hell else was gonna teach you?” Beth shot me a look. “Our brothers still think you’re too sweet to fuck around. But I know better.”
I scoffed. “I don’t exactly fuck around, Beth.”
“I know, I know,” she rolled her eyes. “You only have eyes for one cowboy.”
A small smile tugged at my lips, but I glanced out the window as the fields of the ranch rolled past. “Lee was actually pretty helpful in that department,” I admitted. We didn’t talk about Lee much.
Beth was quiet for a beat. “I wish I had gone to Lee for help when I needed it…” she trailed off, her voice softer than usual.
There was more to the story but I didn’t press. Beth was always closed-lipped. If she wanted me to know, I’d already know.
My brow furrowed when Beth pulled to a stop right outside Jamie’s campaign office.
“Why are we here?” I asked, already dreading the answer.
“To take him down several notches,” she smirked, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Come on, let’s see what our brother thinks is more important than his family.”
I sighed, shaking my head, but still followed behind her. Someone had to at least try to keep her from making a scene. Or, at the very least, minimize the damage.

The moment we stepped inside, every eye in the room was on Beth. That wasn’t unusual. Beth had a way of commanding attention, like a flame drawing in helpless moths—only for them to end up burned. She walked with purpose, cutting through the room like a shark scenting blood, while I scanned the space for Jamie. He needed a warning, even a small one. I was angry at him, furious even, for how he had hurt our father, how he had chosen himself over all of us. But I also understood why he had done it. And I knew there was still a way back—if only Jamie would take it.

We pushed through to the back, where he sat at a table, deep in conversation with his assistant. Beth leaned casually against the doorframe, smirking like she had just caught them in the act. My attention went straight to Jamie’s face. The bruising along his cheekbone was stark against his pale skin, and I instinctively took a step forward.

“Don’t do it,” Beth muttered, throwing an arm out to stop me.

The woman sitting with Jamie turned to us with an expression that made my stomach turn. Smug. Satisfied. Like she had just won something valuable. So, this was her—the problem. She didn’t care about Jamie, not really. She wanted his power.

Beth saw it too. “I’m sure she’ll fulfill those pegging fantasies of yours with those hips,” she sneered at Jamie, her voice dripping with condescension.

Jamie tensed, his lips pressing into a firm line. I ignored Beth’s taunts and took a softer approach. “Jamie,” I said gently, “just come back. Work it out with Dad.”

His jaw clenched. “No. This is what I want,” he said with conviction. “I’m not gonna let him take it from me. I won’t let him.”

Beth didn’t miss a beat, shifting her attention to the woman beside him. “When he lets you down, sweetheart—and we all know how soft he really is—you can keep him.”

“He won’t let me down,” the woman replied, her voice so thick with smug confidence that it made my skin crawl.

Beth scoffed, turning her full focus back to Jamie. “We’re doing a little restructuring. You’re being replaced as Chief Counsel.” She held out her hand expectantly. “I’m gonna need your credit card, your bank card, and the keys to your truck.”

Jamie’s eyes darkened, his anger barely restrained. “I’ve spent my whole life fighting for this family,” he spat, “and now I’m just not a part of it anymore?”

“You can’t unmake family, Jamie,” Beth said smoothly, fingers wiggling in the air, “but you can take their gold card.”

For a long moment, he just stared at her, his face unreadable. Then, with a sharp exhale, he pulled out his wallet, yanked out the cards, and tossed them onto the table. His truck keys followed. Beth snatched them up and, without hesitation, threw them at me.

Jamie’s eyes met mine. Don’t look at me like that, I wanted to tell him. I didn’t ask for this. I shook my head, hoping he would see the truth in it. I am not part of this plan.

Beth turned on her heel and sauntered toward the door. Before I could follow, she shot me a pointed look. “Do not give him any money, Alex.”

Jamie didn’t say a word, just clenched his jaw and looked away.

I gave him an apologetic glance before turning and following my sister out the door.
—
I hated to admit it, but Jamie’s truck drove a hell of a lot smoother than mine. Not that I had any intention of keeping it. But I couldn't ignore the fact that it was decked out with all the bells and whistles—the latest GPS navigation system, satellite radio, and leather seats so damn soft they felt like they belonged in a luxury car, not a ranch truck.
Pulling into the driveway, I shifted into park and climbed out, giving the truck another once-over. Shaking my head, I let out a scoff. This thing has never hauled a damn thing in its life. It was pristine, barely a speck of dust on it, and I couldn’t picture it with a trailer loaded full of horses rattling behind it.
It didn’t belong on the ranch.
And Jamie… maybe he didn’t either.
He made his choice, and it wasn’t us. It was her. That smug, conniving bitch. Would I have felt this way about any woman my brothers dated? No—I liked Monica well enough. So it had to be her. Something about the way she looked at us, like she’d already won some twisted game we didn’t even know we were playing.
I started toward the house, then stopped. I already knew what waited for me behind those doors—more drama, more tension, more of Dad’s cold, unwavering judgment. And right now, I wasn’t ready for it.
I needed a moment to breathe. To shake off the weight of everything before I let it bury me.
So I turned on my heel and headed for the bunkhouse.
It had always been a sanctuary, a place where I could let my guard down, even just a little. But now… now, it was something else entirely.
The guys were gathered around the table, a deck of cards worn at the edges between them, trading jabs and testing each other's patience to see who would break first. It was their ritual, their unspoken tradition.
For a brief second, I hesitated in the doorway.
I wasn’t one of the guys anymore. Not really. I’d grown up in this bunkhouse, but things had shifted. I wasn’t sure if it was because of Ryan or just because I’d changed. Maybe both.
Colby must’ve seen the doubt flicker across my face because, without missing a beat, he shoved a cold beer into my hand and kicked out an empty chair at the table. Sit down. Stay. My welcome here hadn’t worn out just yet.
So I plopped down, letting the familiar energy of the room settle around me.
“Is he bluffing?” Colby asked, eyeing Ryan across the table. “He’s lookin’ smug as hell and not crackin’.”
I grinned, taking a sip of my beer. “I’m not giving away any trade secrets.”
“Told you she wouldn’t rat me out,” Ryan said, all cocky, before draping his arm around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my temple. His cards shifted slightly in his hand, and I caught a glimpse of them.
I glanced at Colby and gave him a subtle thumbs-up.
Ryan was definitely bluffing.
“How you liking that fancy new hat, Jimmy?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.
“I done fucked up and put it on the bed. You know how to undo that?” he asked, looking genuinely concerned.
I smirked, taking a slow sip of my beer. “I don’t know, lots of sage? Never actually knew a cowboy dumb enough to do it before.”
The table erupted in laughter, and Jimmy grumbled, sinking further into his seat.
“Don’t worry,” I added with a teasing grin. “I can’t see how your luck could get much worse. You fall off your horse every damn day.”
“Twice on Thursdays,” Jake chimed in, shaking his head. “I fold. I can’t tell if he’s bluffin’, and I’m too broke to find out.”
“I’m all in,” Colby announced, tossing a bill into the growing pot in the center of the table.
Ryan stayed stone-faced as the rest of the guys hesitated, trying to read him.
“Turn your cards over, boys,” Lloyd finally said, his gruff voice laced with amusement.
Ryan smirked as he laid his cards down, but the table went silent when Jimmy revealed his hand.
“Son of a bitch,” Ryan muttered.
Lloyd chuckled, slapping Jimmy on the back. “Looks like your luck’s turnin’ around, kid.”
Jimmy grinned, looking down at his winnings like he couldn’t quite believe it himself. Maybe that cursed hat wasn’t so cursed after all.
The table went dead silent when the bunkhouse door swung open. Rip walked in, a woman at his side. She had a quiet confidence about her, the kind that said she didn’t take shit from anyone. Her sharp gaze swept the room, sizing up the men like she was the one deciding if they belonged here.
“This here is Avery,” Rip said. “She’s the new groomer. Y’all are gonna treat her like any other cowboy, that clear?”
The guys nodded, but it was obvious Rip might as well have left a rattlesnake in the room. They looked between each other, waiting until Rip left before their jaws hit the floor.
I wasn’t the type to get threatened by other women, but I had to admit, if the boys hadn’t looked so damn slack-jawed, I might have been.
“Which bunk is free?” she asked, all business.
Ryan pointed toward the corner. “Over there.”
“Pisser?”
Jake nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “Shower’s there too.”
Colby, never one to keep his mouth shut, squinted at her. “Didn’t you used to work at the strip—”
Ryan cut him off with a sharp look.
Avery, unfazed, smirked. “Yeah.”
She strode over to her bunk, unfurling a bedroll like she’d been here all along. The guys, like idiots, got up to watch her.
She huffed, shaking her head. “Might as well get this over with.”
Without hesitation, she unbuttoned her jeans, shimmied them down her hips, and stood there in nothing but her underwear.
“If I wake up in the middle of the night to one of you assholes standing over me beating off,” she said, completely unfazed, “I’ll cut it off.”
The stunned silence that followed was delicious.
I bit my lip to hold back a laugh, but as soon as the bathroom door shut behind her, I couldn’t help myself.
Ryan glanced at me, then toward the closed door. “That don’t bother you?”
“Not in the slightest,” I grinned, taking a sip of my beer.
“You want in on this hand, baby?” Ryan asked, shuffling the deck as the guys gathered around the table for another round.
“Sure, deal me in,” I said, pulling a wad of bills from my pocket and tossing it into the pot. The weight of the cash made a satisfying thud against the table, drawing a few raised brows from the others.
Avery emerged from the shower, fresh-faced and wearing a loose-fitting tank and sweats. She pulled up a stool beside me, running a towel through her damp hair.
“You a hand too?” she asked, eyeing me with curiosity.
“Not exactly,” I replied, watching as Ryan dealt the cards.
“She’s the boss’s daughter,” Jake cut in before I could say more, shooting Avery a knowing look. “But she ropes and rides as good as any of us.”
“Better than most of you,” Lloyd added, smirking as he looked at his cards.
“Damn right,” I said, picking up my cards.
Avery let out a low chuckle, leaning back on her stool. “Didn’t peg you for the type that liked getting your hands dirty.”
I arched a brow. “You spend enough time here, you’ll learn real fast—I don’t just sit pretty on the porch.”
She gave me an appraising nod, then looked at Ryan. “So, cowboy, how bad you gonna let your girl take your money?”
Ryan grinned, draping an arm across the back of my chair. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I smirked and tossed a few more bills into the pot. “And it won’t be the last.”
The table erupted with laughter as the game went on, the stakes rising right along with the tension.
“Who’s turn is it anyway?” Ryan asked.
“Pretty sure it’s your turn like always,” Colby said.
“I think he’s trying to focus,” I gave his thigh a gentle squeeze.
“Between the two of you,” Ryan eyed between me and Avery, “you’re bleeding me dry and somehow I kind of like it.”
The bunkhouse went quiet again when the door swung open again. This time my brother, Kayce, came walking through.
“Someone point me to an empty bunk,” he said. His voice was cold. Kayce strode over and climbed up in the bunk.
“Come on, let’s go again, though I might need a small loan,” Ryan chuckled.
I smirked, sliding my cash in front of him as I stood. “Don’t lose it all in one go, cowboy.”
Ryan gave me a wink. “No promises.”
I walked over to where Kayce lay. Staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers he was looking for.
I pulled a stool over and sat beside him, resting my elbows on my knees. “You wanna talk about it?”
His jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed whatever was on his mind. “No.”
I sighed. “Alright.”
Silence stretched between us, the only sounds in the room coming from the poker game continuing at the table. Ryan was laughing at something Avery said, and Colby grumbled about his bad luck.
Kayce finally turned his head toward me. “Dad kick you out here?”
I scoffed. “No, I just needed a break.” I tilted my head. “You gonna tell me what happened?”
His eyes darkened. “Not tonight.”
I nodded, understanding. Sometimes, words didn’t come easy. Sometimes, you just needed someone to sit with you in the silence.
“Alright,” I said again, reaching out to squeeze his arm before standing up. “You know where to find me.”
Kayce was never the brother I would push for answers. He would always tell me in his own time, or I’d just know what was wrong. So I left him with his thoughts.
“I love you,” I told him as I turned to walk back to the group.
“I know you do,” Kayce responded, “Love you too.”
“Awe,” Colby laughed as I made it back to the table, “that was truly a heartfelt moment. Hallmark will be calling to write one of those movies about it.”
“Shut up,” I gave him a playful nudge. “How much of my money did you lose?” I asked Ryan as I sat back down beside him.
Ryan had the decency to at least look a little sheepish as he glanced at the dwindling stack of cash in front of him. He scratched the back of his neck, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.
“Well, sweetheart,” he drawled, “depends on how you define ‘lose.’”
I raised a brow. “If it’s not in your pile, I’d say that counts as lost.”
Colby chuckled. “He put up a good fight, though. Even bluffed his way through a couple of hands. But in the end—” he reached out and pulled the pot toward himself with a triumphant grin— “luck just wasn’t on his side.”
Ryan groaned, leaning back in his chair. “I swear, I was winning when you weren’t looking.”
Avery smirked. “That’s cute. Keep telling yourself that, Ryan.”
I laughed, nudging Ryan’s knee with mine. “I guess I’ll have to start charging interest if you plan on losing any more of my money.”
Ryan turned to me, flashing that slow, charming grin of his. “Or I could just win it all back in the next round.”
Colby snorted. “Now that’s wishful thinking.”
I shook my head, amused. “Alright, deal me in. Let’s see if I can salvage what’s left of my investment.”
Lloyd shuffled the deck, handing out the cards as the game picked up again. I could still feel Kayce’s presence in the corner, his silence heavy, but I knew he’d talk when he was ready.
For now, I let myself enjoy the moment—the laughter, the friendly jabs, and the easy warmth of Ryan’s arm brushing against mine. The bunkhouse had always been my escape, but now, it was starting to feel a little more like home.
"You staying?" Ryan asked as the night wound down, his voice low and easy.
"Do you want me to stay?" I arched a brow, a teasing lilt in my voice. "But just so we're clear—I’m not having sex with you while my brother is across the room."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Didn’t expect you to. Just like having you in my arms when I sleep."
The sincerity in his voice softened me, made it impossible to say no. I pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his jaw. "Well, when you put it like that… how can I refuse?"
With a knowing smirk, he reached into his chest and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of his sweatpants, handing them to me without a word. The warmth of his fingers brushed against mine, a silent invitation. Ryan always had a way of making the simplest things feel intimate—like handing me something to wear was just another way of pulling me closer to him.
“Don’t fall asleep before I get back,” I teased, already making my way toward the bathroom.
He smirked. “No promises.”
That sent a little shiver down my spine, but I didn’t let him see it. Instead, I just shook my head and disappeared into the bathroom, peeling off my jeans and shirt before slipping into the well-worn softness of his t-shirt and sweats. They were loose, comfortable, and smelled like him—like cedar, leather, and the faintest hint of sweat from a long day’s work.
By the time I came back, the bunkhouse had settled down. The poker game had ended, and most of the guys were either passed out in their bunks or quietly talking amongst themselves. Kayce still hadn’t moved from where he lay, his back to the room, lost in his own world.
Ryan was already stretched out in his bunk, arms folded behind his head, watching me with that lazy smile of his. He lifted the blanket in invitation. “C’mere, sweetheart.”
I didn’t hesitate. Climbing in beside him, I nestled against his side, my head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around me, warm and solid, pulling me close like he never wanted to let go.
“This alright?” he murmured against my hair.
I sighed, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm me. “Yeah. This is perfect.”
And for the first time that day, I actually meant it.

Chapter Text

The morning sun was already high, casting long shadows as we sat atop our horses in a line, eyes fixed on the dense thicket ahead.
"You sure they’re in there, Kayce?" I asked, shooting him a doubtful look.
"They’re in there," he nodded, expression set. "I can smell ‘em."
Lloyd adjusted his hat, eyeing the brush warily. "Horses’ll get gored in that thick shit."
"Well, I’m not leaving a hundred grand worth of bulls in there," my father said firmly. "Send in the dogs."
At Rip’s sharp whistle, the cattle dogs bolted forward, disappearing into the undergrowth.
Travis let out a scoff beside me. "Hey, Travis, why don’t you come on over? We’ll go for a ride, maybe chase some cows," he mimicked, shaking his head. "Don’t recall you mentioning damn bulls."
I smirked, "Consider it a little payback for all the horse trading you’ve done over the years."
The hands erupted into laughter.
"Y’all think that’s funny?" Travis shot them a glare, clearly unimpressed.
"Didn’t think you were scared of anything," I teased, keeping a firm grip on my reins as my horse shifted beneath me, ears flicking toward the deep grunts coming from the brush.
"If this don’t pucker your red eye, I don’t think anything will," Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head.
Dad’s voice cut through the tension. "Don’t be a hero—turn ‘em together!"
With that, we surged forward, following the dogs into the thick undergrowth, dodging low branches and weaving between trees as the bulls thrashed ahead of us. My horse moved instinctively, responding to the shift in weight as I guided him through the brush. We split off, Kayce and I driving the bulls toward the clearing.
"They are fucking pissed!" I shouted over the chaos, shifting my horse to avoid a charging bull.
A sharp yelp cut through the air. My stomach dropped. One of the dogs.
Before I could react, Kayce was already tearing back into the thicket, lasso in hand. I turned my horse, ready to follow, but the dog came bolting out first, snapping at a bull’s heels, doing his damn job despite the hit he must’ve taken.
Kayce’s rope went taut around a bull’s thick neck. The beast bucked violently, nearly yanking him clean off his saddle before he was forced to let go.
I clenched my jaw. My brother had never been reckless like this before. Something was different. And that worried me.
The cattle were all lined up, ready for their count and check-up. The heat from the sun pressed down on us, adding to the weight of the responsibility on my shoulders. This wasn’t where I wanted to be, but Dad made it clear—this was what I needed to focus on. The ranch needed me, and I couldn’t afford to waste any more time. He'd given me a chance to prove myself, but now it was time to prove I could handle the weight of what he wanted me to become.
I glanced over at Kayce, who was off to the side with the cowboys, his attention on the cattle as they were ushered through the chute. I could almost feel the pull of the reins in my hands, the rush of chasing cows through the pasture. But no, today I was stuck with the vet, handing crates of meds to Jimmy, Colby, and Avery to haul over to the chute.
I gritted my teeth, knowing this was part of the game I had to play. This was my responsibility now. Dad had trusted me with more than just riding; he wanted me to learn the business side of things, to ensure everything ran smoothly. Still, it was hard to swallow when every part of me screamed to be on horseback, herding cattle with my brother.
Avery’s face was one for the books when the vet handed her the bull ejaculator. It was priceless, her expression morphing from confusion to complete horror as she fumbled to figure out what to do with it. I couldn’t help but laugh under my breath. Thank God I didn’t have to deal with that today.
I handed another crate off to Colby, trying to keep my focus on the task at hand. The cattle weren’t going to wait for me to get my act together, and neither was Dad. He’d made it clear, this wasn’t just about riding anymore. It was about taking responsibility for the ranch in every way possible—even the parts that made me cringe.
—----------
I scrubbed my hands at least ten times, working hard to get the smell of cow and sweat off my skin. It wasn’t enough for me to just rinse them. No, I needed to feel like I was starting fresh—clean, ready to sit down and take a break. But even then, as I finally wiped my hands dry, I still felt the weight of the ranch on me, in my bones.

I sat at the picnic table across from Ryan, watching him cut into his steak with too much force. His jaw was tight, his focus too intense. Something was off, but I wasn’t about to push. Not yet, anyway.

"You okay?" I raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully.

"Yeah," he answered, but there was no warmth in his voice—none of that usual teasing spark that made me smile.

"You sure about that, cowboy? You cut any harder and you're gonna saw through your plate," I said, trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. His jaw just clenched tighter, and he didn’t say anything else.

I glanced around the table, trying to shake the feeling of tension that had settled over me like a storm cloud. Avery, sitting next to me, was talking to the older day worker across from her.
"What’s your name again?" she asked him.

"Cowboy," he said, his voice dry.

I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “Your name’s Cowboy?”

Colby, overhearing the exchange, laughed out loud. "Shit, we’re all cowboys."

The older man looked at Colby, shaking his head. "The hell you are. And you..." He pointed to Jimmy, sitting across from him, "You ride a horse like a teenager fucks— bouncing up and down, eyes wide, surprised you’re even doing it at all."
The insult was lighthearted enough, but it struck a nerve. Ryan stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the gravel beneath it. "Only cowboy thing I’ve seen you do is clean your plate. Stand up and tell me I can’t cowboy."

The worker leaned into the challenge, his grin widening. "I didn’t say you can’t," he shot back, pointing to Colby. "I said he can’t," he motioned to Jimmy. "And he sure as hell can’t." Then, with a cocky chuckle, he added, "And you don’t want me standing up, boy. I’ll beat you like a rented mule."
The air thickened, the tension charging the space between us. Ryan’s muscles tensed, eyes narrowing into slits as he stared the man down. The silence was deafening as everyone around the table held their breath. It felt like the air was crackling with impending violence, just waiting for someone to make the first move.
Before Ryan could say anything, Rip’s gravelly voice cut through the tension like a knife. “There’s one rule on this ranch, Cowboy,” Rip said, standing up to his full height, his presence commanding the space. His eyes flicked toward Ryan, a slight challenge in his gaze. “You wanna fight someone, you fight me.”
Ryan froze for a moment, the fire in his eyes still burning but now focused elsewhere. Rip wasn’t just a ranch hand, he was the foreman. That made him the law when it came to these things. The unspoken enforcer of boundaries and respect, the kind of man who didn’t back down—ever.
Rip’s face hardened as he stared at Ryan. “Guess you forgot that rule, right?”
The worker stood there, the challenge now no longer as appealing. He looked at Rip, then at Ryan, and finally took a step back, the arrogance in his stance faltering just a little.
Ryan’s eyes didn’t leave Rip’s, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. But in the end, neither of them said anything more, and the moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. The rest of us, still holding our breaths, exhaled in unison, feeling the weight of the moment lift.
Relieved the confrontation was over, the hands went back to eating, though the air still felt charged, the kind of tension that lingered even when the fight was over. Cowboy walked out to the pasture to sit with Walker who was strumming his guitar. I shook my head.
“That what was bothering you?” I rested my hand on Ryan’s forearm when he sat back down across from me. “Being shown up by an old Cowboy?”
He shook his head, but there was still a trace of frustration in his eyes. “You were almost gored by a bull this morning.”
“But I wasn’t,” I reminded him, my tone softer, trying to reassure him.
“I just think it’s too dangerous for you out there.” His voice held an edge now, the concern for me bleeding through.
I narrowed my eyes at him, not sure whether to be frustrated or understanding. “And it’s not for you? You were even deeper in the thick of all of it.”
Ryan shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s different for me, ‘cause I—”
“‘Cause you’re a man?” I cut him off, my voice sharp, though there was no malice behind it. “Having a dick doesn’t make you immune to bad shit happening.”
His eyes softened, and he exhaled a heavy breath, realizing how his words had come across. “I didn’t mean that, baby,” he said, his voice gentler now, a hint of regret slipping in. “Shit. I just... I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I could feel the weight of his concern, the love wrapped up in his words, even if it came out the wrong way. I squeezed his arm, leaning in closer. “Ryan, I know you’re trying to protect me, but I’m not some delicate flower that needs sheltering.” I held his gaze, trying to make him understand. “I know the risks. I’m choosing this. It’s who I am.”
He nodded slowly, still looking at me with that protective fire in his eyes. “I know you are,” he said, his voice quiet now. “But just... don’t make me watch you get hurt again, okay?”
“I won’t,” I promised him, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my face. “I’ll be careful. But you need to trust me, Ryan.”
The silence between us hung heavy for a moment, the weight of our unspoken feelings lingering in the air. Ryan finally smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes entirely. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
I smirked. “I thought that was your job.”
He chuckled, that old warmth returning to his voice. “I guess it is. But still... just... be safe, okay?”
“Always,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, letting him feel the reassurance in my touch.
—-
“You playin’?” Colby asked, glancing up from the table when I stepped into the bunkhouse.
“You cleaned me out last night,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “I’ll pass.”
“Then you can be my good luck charm,” Ryan said with a grin, pulling me down into his lap. I raised an eyebrow at him and glanced at the cards in his hand.
“With cards like that, you need all the luck you can get,” I teased, a smirk tugging at my lips as I surveyed his hand. “You sure you’re not bluffing with that royal flush?”
Ryan shot me a playful glare. “Maybe, but lucky for you, I’ve got you now,” he said, squeezing me gently.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my lips. “I think you might be more focused on me than the game, cowboy.”
“Maybe,” he admitted, his hands subtly shifting me in his lap. “But I’m winning, so it’s clearly working.”
Colby chuckled from across the table, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Yeah, Ryan’s the type to blame the cards when he’s losing. Let’s see how much luck he gets now that you’re sitting in his lap.”
I smirked at Colby’s jab and leaned back into Ryan’s chest, the warmth of his body grounding me. "Just make sure to win something this time, okay?" I teased.
Ryan grinned, holding up his cards. "Watch and learn, sweetheart. I’m about to make a comeback."
“Well, if you do, I’ll take some of that luck you’re offering,” I quipped, settling in comfortably.
"It’s Saturday night, and this is all we’re gonna do?" Avery scoffed, arms crossed as she looked around the bunkhouse. Her gaze landed on Ryan, and she let out an exaggerated sigh. "Jesus! Is it just the one set of testicles y’all share?"
Laughter rippled through the room, but Cowboy’s deep chuckle cut through it. "Besides the pair I’m wearing, she’s got the only set of balls in this bunkhouse," he said, nodding toward Avery. "When I was your age, I wasn’t sitting around playing cards. I was in the arena playing real poker. Cowboy poker."
Jimmy’s brow furrowed. "Sorry, what’s cowboy poker?"
Colby didn’t even let Cowboy answer before shaking his head. "Don’t worry about it, Jimmy. You’re not doing it."
Cowboy smirked, then started clucking like a damn hen.
Ryan let out a slow breath, patted my hip, and stood.
I blinked. "You’re not serious?"
"Pride, baby," he said with a lazy grin before heading toward the door.
I sighed and followed, shaking my head as they hauled a card table into the middle of the arena, setting up chairs like they weren’t about to do something incredibly stupid.
"Don’t let your pride get you killed," I called out as I leaned against the fence, arms crossed.
Ryan, Colby, Jimmy, Cowboy, and Avery piled their money into the center of the table and gripped the edges of their chairs. The heavy snorts of the bull inside the chute made my stomach twist.
"Someone want to explain the rules?" Jimmy asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Last one at the table takes the pot," Ryan smirked.
The bull thrashed against the gate, hooves slamming into the metal bars as Jake reached for the latch.
"Y’all are fucking stupid," I muttered, watching from the fence.
Colby took a long pull from the bottle of whiskey they’d passed around before setting it down with a thud. He shot me a smirk. "You sure you don’t wanna come sit in his lap for luck?"
I scoffed. "I’m good over here, thanks."
Lloyd chuckled, "Jake, let her rip."
The gate swung open, and the bull came charging out like a bat out of hell. Colby barely gave it two seconds before yelling, "Fuck that!" and hauling ass, diving over the fence.
The rest held their ground—until the bull lowered its head and plowed toward the table. Chaos erupted as chairs flew back, boots scrambled against the dirt, and suddenly, there wasn’t a single cowboy still sitting—except Avery.
She gritted her teeth, knuckles white against the edges of her seat, holding on as the bull charged past her. The sheer force knocked her clean out of the chair, sending her tumbling into the dirt.
My adrenaline surged, my heart hammering in my chest as I pushed off the fence and rushed toward Ryan, hands instinctively patting his jacket, making sure he was in one piece.
Then, the emotions crashed into me all at once—fear, relief, excitement. Before I even thought about it, I shoved him hard, fingers curling into the worn fabric of his jacket as I yanked him toward me. My lips crashed against his, claiming him in a way that was more instinct than thought.
When I finally pulled back, breathless, I locked eyes with him, my grip still tight on his jacket. "Don’t do stupid shit like that again."
"If you’re gonna kiss me like that," Ryan chuckled, still breathless from the rush, "I might have to think of all kinds of stupid shit to do."
The adrenaline was still buzzing in our veins, the energy electric as we put distance between ourselves and the bull. Laughter rang out as boots crunched over dirt, the wild thrill of the game still lingering. Avery wiped dust from her jeans and grabbed the whiskey bottle, taking a long swig before shoving out her hand.
"Give me my money."
Cowboy sighed, pulling the pot from his pocket and slapping the cash into her palm. "You’re a crazy little shit, you know that?"
"And a hundred bucks richer." Avery grinned, tucking the cash into her jacket.
The moment of victory was short-lived. The heavy stomp of boots had us all turning as Rip stormed toward us, eyes dark with irritation.
"What the hell are you dipshits doing?!"
"It’s a Saturday," Jimmy called back, trying to sound casual.
Rip’s glare could’ve cut steel. "I know what fucking day it is, Jimmy," he snapped. "Y’all wanna get drunk, go to the fucking bar, and leave that goddamn bull alone before one of you gets killed."
No one argued. We knew better.
As we made our way toward the trucks, I glanced back, catching a rare sight—Rip chuckling under his breath.
—-
The bar glowed with neon, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap beer. Country music twanged from the jukebox, drowning out the low hum of conversation and the occasional break of pool balls. It was the kind of place where the floor stuck to your boots, and the whiskey burned like hellfire.
Ryan and Colby headed straight for the pool table, setting up a game.
"I’m gonna grab a drink," I said, watching as Ryan lined up a shot. "Y’all want anything?"
"Thought you said you were out of money?" Colby smirked, leaning on his cue stick.
I shot him a grin. "I’m all out of cash. I do, however, have my daddy’s gold card."
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "Beer."
I weaved my way through the crowd, slipping up to the bar. "Can I get a couple long necks? And a White Russian?" I asked the bartender. My gaze drifted down the bar, landing on Jimmy, who was struggling to get anyone’s attention.
"Put his beer on my tab too," I added.
The bartender nodded, reaching for the bottles. Jimmy shot me a grateful look.
"Don’t say I never did anything for you," I teased, tossing a smirk his way as I grabbed the drinks.
Tonight was just getting started.
My eyes lingered, trailing over Ryan as he leaned over the pool table, lining up his shot. The way his shirt stretched across his back, the flex of his arms—yeah, I was definitely enjoying the view.
"What are you doing?" Ryan asked, catching me staring as he straightened up, cue stick resting against his shoulder.
I smirked, handing him his beer. "Watching a sexy cowboy."
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he took a sip. "That so?"
I took a slow drink from my cup, the burn of liquor coating my throat. It was strong—stronger than I expected—but it did the trick, warming me from the inside out.
Ryan watched me over the rim of his bottle, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. "Careful, baby. Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll forget about this game altogether."
"I can’t help but look at you like this," I murmured, letting my fingers trail slowly up his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my touch. "You’re gorgeous."
Ryan's grin widened, but before he could respond, Colby let out a loud groan from across the table.
"Cut her off," he joked, shaking his head. "I think she’s had too much to drink."
Ryan chuckled, setting his beer down before lining up his next shot. "Jealous, Colby?"
"Jealous of what? Watching you two make goo-goo eyes at each other all night? No thanks," Colby scoffed. "Now hurry up and take your damn shot before I die of old age."
Ryan shot me a wink before sinking the ball in one clean move, barely even looking at the table. "There. Now you can stop whining."
The sharp crash of glass breaking behind me barely registered before the chaos erupted. Bar stools scraped against the floor, shouts rang out, and fists started flying. Some guy must’ve said something, and—of course—Jimmy had mouthed off.
Before I could even react, I was jostled by the surge of bodies, and then—crack—an elbow caught me right in the face. Pain flared across my cheekbone.
"Watch it, asshole!" I snapped, shoving the guy away from me.
He turned, eyes wild, fist already cocked back, ready to swing. Before I could dodge, Ryan was there in an instant, shoving the guy hard enough to send him stumbling back into a table.
"You wanna throw hands?" Ryan growled, stepping in front of me, his jaw clenched tight. "Try me."
The tension hung thick in the air, every muscle in Ryan’s body coiled like a spring, ready to explode. The guy hesitated, eyes darting between Ryan and the rest of our crew, we thought for a moment we must have him outnumbered, pride kept him standing his ground.
But the guy wasn’t alone. His buddies were just as mean and just as drunk, and before we knew it, fists were flying, bottles were shattering, and chairs scraped against the floor as the whole bar turned into a battleground.
I ducked as a bottle whizzed past my head, crashing into the wall behind me. Ryan landed a solid punch on one guy, sending him sprawling, but another came at him from the side. Jimmy wasn’t faring much better—he was swinging wild, more likely to hit air than anyone else.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here!” Colby shouted, dodging a right hook and grabbing my arm.
Ryan’s knuckles were bloody, his breath coming fast. He grabbed my waist, pulling me toward the exit as we pushed through the chaos. The neon lights outside hit us like a slap, the cold air a stark contrast to the heat of the fight.
I sank into the backseat of the truck, heart still hammering from the chaos we’d just escaped. “Move your ass,” I hissed, ushering the others in as I pressed my fingers to my throbbing cheek. The stinging pain was a sharp reminder of the brawl we’d just barely walked away from.
The ride back was quiet except for the occasional groan, the adrenaline wearing off and the pain settling in. Under the dim glow of the truck’s dashboard lights, I glanced around. We were all bloody and bruised, knuckles split, lips busted. It looked like we’d gone to war.
Back at the bunkhouse, we gathered around the table, the regret sinking in the second Lloyd walked in and tossed bags of frozen vegetables at us.
“This is why you shouldn’t go to bars without me,” Lloyd grumbled, shaking his head as he took in the sorry state of us.
I turned toward Ryan, my fingers tracing the purpling bruise along his cheek before I gently pressed a bag of frozen peas against it. “Hold this,” I murmured. He winced but didn’t pull away.
The door swung open, and Kayce strolled in. His sharp eyes flicked over each of us, taking in the cuts and bruises before landing on the mark across my face. His expression darkened in an instant.
“What the fuck happened?” His voice was low, dangerous.
Ryan sat up straighter, already knowing that tone meant trouble. I sighed, pressing my palm against my aching temple.
“Long story short?” I muttered. “Jimmy mouthed off, fists started flying, and now we’re home with an assortment of frozen vegetables.”
Kayce’s jaw clenched. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”
“I didn’t,” I shot back. “I can handle myself.”
His eyes flicked to Ryan, narrowing. “And you let her get hit?”
Ryan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t let anything happen, Kayce. I was too busy making sure she didn’t get worse.”
The tension between them thickened, heavy and unspoken. I sighed, already tired, and tossed the bag of peas at Kayce.
“You wanna fight someone, go punch the bull in the arena.”
That got a smirk out of Lloyd, at least.
"Get in the truck. All of you." Kayce's voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.
I exchanged a glance with Ryan, who gave me a slight shake of his head, but I knew better than to argue when Kayce was in this kind of mood. One by one, we climbed into the truck, the tension thick in the air as we waited.
Kayce stormed off to find Rip, and it wasn’t long before they were loading a trailer. My stomach knotted as realization hit.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered as Kayce backed the trailer up to the bar’s entrance.
Ryan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’ve seen some payback in my day, but this?”
Kayce jumped out, his expression unreadable as he stalked toward the back of the trailer. With one swift motion, he pulled the latch and threw the gate open.
The bull charged out, a snorting, stomping force of rage, and crashed through the bar’s open doorway.
Inside, chaos erupted instantly. Shouts and screams filled the air, followed by the sound of chairs scraping and bottles smashing. People scrambled over each other in their rush to escape, some diving out of windows, others tripping over themselves in their panic.
“Stay behind me,” Ryan said, stepping forward.
“No way in hell,” I said, resting my brother’s Louisville slugger over my shoulder.
The rest of the guys squared their shoulders, waiting as the dust settled. It didn’t take long before Jimmy pointed out the bastards who had jumped us.
One by one, they stumbled out of the bar, faces twisted in confusion and terror—until they spotted us.
They didn’t get a chance to react before fists were flying again. Kayce and Rip added to the mix balancing the scales in our favor.
My heart hammered as I swung my bat hard cracking it in the gut of the fucker who hit me in the face. Ryan landed a solid punch that sent one of the assholes to the ground. Colby tackled another, and Jimmy—who had started this whole mess—finally got a decent hit in of his own.
When it was over, we stood over our battered opponents, breathing hard. Kayce turned to me, expression still dark.
"Now it's settled." He nodded toward the truck. “Get in.”
As we climbed back inside, after loading the bull back in the trailer, I glanced at Ryan, his lip split open again, but a cocky grin on his face.
"Remind me not to piss your brother off," he muttered.
I smirked, shaking my head. "Smartest thing you've said all night."

Chapter Text

I stood next to the vet, bracing myself for the conversation I was about to have with Jimmy. There was no easy way to put it, but as the low man, he wasn’t exactly in a position to argue. And today’s task? Well, it was quite literally a shit job.
Jimmy looked down at the long glove that now covered his entire arm, then at the cow standing patiently in front of him, blissfully unaware of what was coming.
“Go easy,” I advised as he hesitated. “She may not need you to sweet-talk her, but it ain’t exactly fun for her either.”
Jimmy let out a deep sigh, sliding his hand under the cow’s tail with an expression that suggested he was already regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. “Why are we going in this way and not the other?” he asked, his face twisted in uncertainty.
I bit back a laugh. “It’s easier to feel her uterus through the anal wall—it’s pretty thin.”
Jimmy still didn’t look convinced.
“When you get in there, feel around for the uterus. If she’s pregnant, you’ll be able to tell by the swelling. Just don’t squeeze any tighter than you’d want someone squeezing your balls.”
Colby snorted. “That might not be the best analogy, Alex. I think Jimmy might be into pain—man can’t stop getting himself hurt.”
Jimmy shot him a glare. “And why aren’t you doing this?”
I smirked. “Because I did most of the pregnancy checks yesterday.” I crossed my arms, watching as Jimmy grimaced and slowly—very slowly—worked his way in. “Besides, this is a rite of passage. Welcome to cowboy life.”
Jimmy groaned. “Yeah, well, cowboy life fucking stinks.”
Colby chuckled. “Ain’t that the damn truth.”
“You finally got to third base, Jimmy,” Rip teased as Jimmy’s arm slid in, eliciting a chuckle from everyone there. Everyone except Jimmy.
“How’s he doing down there, sweetheart?” Dad called.
“I think Jimmy might have a new girlfriend,” I called back. “But I think you’re making him nervous.”
“Hey Jimmy,” Kayce called from the end of the line of cows, “don’t worry there’s only about sixty left.”
Jimmy started to retch. “Sixty?”
The laughter died in an instant.
One second, we were all teasing Jimmy as he gagged his way through his new least-favorite ranch task. The next, my dad was on the ground, his face ashen, coughing so hard it rattled in his chest.
"Dad!" My stomach lurched as I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees in the dirt beside him. "Call 911!"
“There’s no time for that,” Kayce said sharply. “Get his vest off.”
Lloyd was already kneeling beside me, helping me work the thick material off my father’s shoulders. His breathing was shallow, and when he coughed again, dark red spattered the dirt.
"Get him into my trailer," the vet ordered. Kayce and Lloyd hauled Dad to his feet, practically carrying him toward the steps of the trailer. The vet cleared off a large exam table—one normally meant for dogs or calves—but today, it would have to do for my father.
“Turn him on his side, so he doesn’t choke on his vomit,” she instructed, glancing at me. “Alex, grab the x-ray machine. I need to see what we’re dealing with.”
I moved on autopilot, wheeling the portable x-ray unit over while Kayce and Lloyd adjusted Dad’s position. My hands trembled as I powered the machine on, but I forced myself to focus. I’d done this dozens of times before—just never on my father.
Dad let out a pained groan. "It's colon cancer," he rasped, trying to wave the vet off.
"If it was colon, you'd be shitting blood, not spitting it up," she shot back. "Now shut up and lay down."
The screen flickered to life, revealing an image that had my stomach twisting.
"All I see is blood," I muttered, my mind a mess of fear and medical knowledge tangled together.
The vet’s finger stabbed at a dark mass on the screen. "It's a ruptured ulcer."
"We need to get him to the hospital," Kayce said immediately.
I shook my head, my pulse hammering in my ears. "It's too much blood… he’ll bleed out before we even get him there."
The vet’s jaw clenched. "I can only give him a local anesthetic and that’s it. I don’t know the algebra to adjust the dosage on the anesthesia without killing him." She scanned the room. "Any of you got medical experience?"
"I was a medic in the Navy," Kayce answered.
She nodded. "Good. Then you're in." Her eyes landed on me next. "I need two people to hold him down. Alex, grab the iodine—pour it on."
My hands shook as I grabbed the bottle. There wasn’t time to hesitate, to process, to let this be the last moment I had with my father. I had to move. I forced my fear down and dumped the liquid over his exposed stomach.
"It's okay, Daddy," I whispered, squeezing his hand as Rip and Lloyd pinned his shoulders.
The vet worked quickly, slicing into the swollen flesh with steady hands. Blood welled up instantly, but Kayce was already reaching in, fingers working fast to stop the hemorrhaging. The acrid scent of cauterization filled the air as the vet sealed the wound shut, the hiss of burning flesh making my stomach turn.
"You're doing great, Daddy," I murmured, though my voice wavered as I watched his face contort in agony.
Finally, his body went limp. The pain, the blood loss—it had finally pulled him under.
I let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand like a lifeline. "Stay with us, Dad."
The roar of the ranch helicopter vibrated through my chest, snapping me out of my daze. The vet’s hands moved fast, stitching my father’s wound closed with the efficiency of someone used to working on animals, not people. The moment she finished wrapping the bandages tight, Lloyd and Kayce hoisted him up between them. His body was limp, head lolling slightly, but his chest was still rising and falling. He was still here.
They carried him across the yard, past the bunkhouse, past the cattle pens, straight to the waiting chopper. The blades whipped the air into a frenzy, kicking up dust and hay as Kayce climbed in behind them.
“I’ll go with him,” Kayce shouted over the noise, settling into the seat beside our father. He met my eyes, his expression hard but not unfeeling. “Meet you there.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
The chopper lifted off, and I watched until it disappeared over the horizon, swallowed by the endless Montana sky. The world around me felt muted, distant, like I was watching it happen to someone else.
I glanced down. My boots were caked in cow shit, my hands stained with my father’s blood. The stark contrast of life and death, of the brutal reality we lived every day, settled deep in my bones.
“Come on,” I felt Ryan’s hand steady on my shoulder, “truck is ready. Let’s go.”

—-
Two days later, Kayce pulled the truck through the ranch gates, the familiar rumble of the engine drawing everyone’s attention. Dad was okay. Bruised, stitched up, and mean as ever—but okay.
He sure as hell didn’t want a crowd waiting for him when he got home. Didn’t want anyone fussing, checking in on him, or—God forbid—telling him to take it easy. But that wasn’t how things worked around here.
We would fuss. We would hover. And he would grumble about it, curse under his breath, and bark at us to leave him the hell alone.
Because that’s what family did.
And deep down, beneath all that gruff exterior, he knew it.
I lingered outside my father’s office, cradling a cup of hot tea between my hands. I knew he’d grumble about it, maybe even refuse to drink it outright, but that wasn’t going to stop me from insisting.
Inside, I could hear him talking to Kayce, their voices low but firm—discussing something they probably wouldn’t bother telling me until they deemed it necessary. That was the way of things around here. If I wanted to know anything, I had to figure it out myself.
“Stop eavesdroppin’, Alex, and get in here,” Dad barked.
I straightened, pushing the door open, feigning innocence. “I wasn’t.”
He snorted. “Yeah, you were.”
Busted. No sense in arguing. I walked over and set the tea down on his desk.
He eyed it like it was poison. “I ain’t drinkin’ that shit.”
“Yes, you are,” I shot back, arms crossing over my chest.
He grumbled under his breath, but I caught the way his fingers twitched toward the cup. Stubborn old man.
I watched my brother’s fingers absently thumb over the livestock agent badge in his hand—the one that used to belong to Lee. It was official now. Things were shifting. Kayce was home. I hoped for good this time.
But his family wasn’t here.
I hadn’t been able to get him to open up about what really happened between him and Monica after her accident. She left him. That was all he’d say. That was all he would tell any of us.
The weight of silence hung between us, heavier than the badge in his hand.
“Why haven’t you mentioned them or what happened?” I finally asked the question that had been lingering in the air since Kayce came home.
“What’s talkin’ about it gonna do?” Kayce responded.
“Might help you figure it out,” I said, “and how to get them back.”
“When Lee ran this place,” Dad said leaning against his desk, “he was honest and he was fair. But you can’t be that way with others if you’re not that way with yourself.”
“I miss them,” Kayce’s voice was shaky.

“What happened?” Dad asked pointedly.

“You happened, Dad,” he responded, “then everything happened.” Kayce turned and walked out of the room.
I let out a slow breath, my eyes following Kayce as he disappeared down the hall. His words hung in the air, thick and heavy, cutting through the room like a blade.
Dad exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head as he stared down at his desk. He didn’t argue. Didn’t deny it. He just stood there, arms crossed, jaw tight.
"He's got a point," I said carefully, watching for his reaction.
Dad’s gaze snapped up to me, sharp and assessing, but he said nothing.
I sighed and shook my head. "You wanna keep him here? Keep this family together? Then maybe you should start by admitting what we all already know."
Dad didn’t answer. He just reached for the damn tea I brought him and took a sip.
I started down the hall when my father’s voice cut through the quiet.
“Alex?”
I paused, glancing back.
“If you’re heading to the bunkhouse, send Rip up to the house.”
I blinked. Did he realize how much time I’d been spending there? I wasn’t exactly keeping it a secret, but I didn’t think he’d been paying attention.
“Yeah, I’ll let him know,” I said, then picked up my pace, catching up with Kayce.
“You know what Dad wants with Rip?” I asked.
Kayce didn’t look at me, just kept walking. “Changes. And you’re probably not gonna like ‘em either.”
I frowned. “What kind of changes?”
Before he could answer, Rip stormed ahead of us, shoving the bunkhouse door open so hard it nearly came off its hinges.
Kayce cursed under his breath and pushed past me, already knowing what was about to happen. I followed, stopping just in time to see Kayce yank Rip off Walker.
The tension between them had been simmering for weeks, ever since Walker helped Beth conquer her fear of horses. Now, it had finally boiled over.
Kayce shoved Rip toward the door. “My father wants to see you.”
Rip shook him off and shot one last glare at Walker before stomping out.
Something was shifting. And whatever was coming next, I had a feeling none of us would like it.
The air in the bunkhouse was thick, charged with an unspoken tension that settled heavy over the room.
I let my gaze drift from Walker, his jaw clenched tight, to Colby and Jake, their eyes flicking between each other like they were waiting for someone else to make the first move. Finally, I landed on Ryan.
He was stiff, arms crossed over his chest, lips pressed into a thin line. They were all battling with themselves, trying to figure out what side of this they were gonna land on.
Rip and Walker’s feud had been brewing too long. Now, the storm had finally broken. And in its aftermath, the bunkhouse wasn’t just a place to sleep anymore.
Kayce packed up his things from his corner of the bunkhouse and walked out without a word. His absence left a hollow space, but the tension that had filled the room earlier had finally begun to ease.
After a while, we were all gathered around the television, watching football—Bobcats vs. Wildcats. I wasn’t much for football, but I was definitely into the cowboy whose lap I was settled in and the pint of Ben & Jerry’s I was working my way through.
Jimmy glanced at me, then at my ice cream, his face twisted in curiosity. “So… is it that time of the month?”
I paused mid-bite, leveling him with a glare before nudging the back of his head with the heel of my boot. “I don’t think my menstrual cycle is any of your damn business, Jimmy,” I said dryly. “But if I hang around you long enough, maybe ours will sync up, and then you’ll know.”
The bunkhouse erupted in laughter, and even Jimmy had to smirk, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the game.
“Can you explain to me why these teams have the same fucking mascot?” Jimmy asked, squinting at the TV in confusion.
“You’ve lived here your entire life and you can’t tell the difference?” Colby shot back, clearly annoyed.
“Those are the Wild Cats,” Ryan motioned toward one team, “and those are the Bob Cats.”
“What’s the fuckin’ difference?” Jimmy asked, still baffled.
“The difference is…” Colby began, but Ryan cut him off.
“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Ryan chuckled. “A bobcat is a specific breed of cat. A wildcat is just a cat that went wild.” He gripped my waist and pointed at the screen. “And that’s a run.”
“So, they named their entire team after a cat that just, like, got outta the house?” Jimmy asked, trying to make sense of it.
“Football isn’t rocket science,” I told him with a smirk.
“Y’all are ruinin’ this for me,” Lloyd grumbled from his corner. “Shut the fuck up.”
The bunkhouse fell into a heavy silence when the door swung open, and Rip walked in, carrying a duffle bag full of his stuff. The shift in the room was immediate—something had changed.
This had to be what Kayce was talking about.
Rip had worked for my father since I was ten years old. He was like another brother to me, always part of our tight-knit circle. But seeing the way he looked as he stepped inside—eyes down, face tight—I knew that my father didn’t see him the same way. Not the way Rip deserved to be seen. Not like family.
And that realization hit harder than I expected.
“So just to clarify,” Jimmy smirked, “Colby’s mom—that’s a cougar?”
The room burst into laughter, the guys snickering at the thought.
“Don’t talk about my mom like that,” Colby shot back, his voice defensive, though he couldn’t fully hide the hint of a grin playing at the corner of his mouth.
“So, is she a wildcat then?” Jimmy continued, clearly enjoying the chaos he was causing.
The boys erupted again, some laughing so hard they were almost gasping for air. But Colby’s face flushed with a mix of irritation and amusement.
“Seriously, Jimmy, shut up,” Colby muttered, but even he couldn’t suppress the chuckle that slipped out.
The teasing lightened the mood, but my attention drifted again, catching sight of Rip still lingering at the table, beer in hand. Not quite knowing where he fit anymore.
The night stretched on, the quiet of the bunkhouse settling around us as we all found our places. I slipped into one of Ryan's old t-shirts again, the fabric soft and familiar, paired with a pair of gym shorts. As I curled up beside him, resting my head on his chest, his fingers ran absentmindedly through my hair, the rhythmic motion soothing.
"So since your brother isn't here anymore..." I heard the smirk in his voice before I even saw it.
I tilted my head up, catching his eyes. "Can't keep it in your pants anymore, cowboy?" I teased, raising an eyebrow, the playful challenge hanging between us.
He grinned, his lips curling slightly, before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head. "You have no idea how tempting it is," he murmured, his voice low, and I couldn't help but laugh softly, enjoying the warmth of his presence and the familiar banter.
I propped myself up on my elbow, my chin resting on his chest so I could catch his gaze. "How about I tempt you tomorrow night?" I asked, a playful glint in my eyes. "Unless there's another football game you'd rather watch."
Ryan let out a low chuckle, his fingers still weaving through my hair as his lips curled into a teasing smirk. "I don’t think there’s another game until Thursday, so I’m free tomorrow." His voice dropped an octave, the promise of his words hanging in the air between us.
"Good," I whispered, leaning in just a little closer, the space between us shrinking as I let the anticipation linger.
—-
“Sweetheart,” Dad said, his voice low as we stood waiting, “I’m gonna need you to stand by your brother on this one.”
“I’ve always been on Kayce’s side, Dad,” I replied. “Today isn’t any different.”
“I know you say that, but the boys need to understand that Kayce is the one in charge out there, not Rip. It’s the only way this is gonna work,” he said firmly.
“Alright,” I nodded, knowing my support for Kayce was never in question.
“And since Kayce isn’t sleeping in the bunkhouse anymore,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be there either.”
“I’m not gonna be the one running them, Dad,” I said, carefully choosing my words, “and I’m not the only girl in there.” I motioned to Avery, who was standing by her horse, her posture just as strong as the men.
“Doesn’t matter,” Dad grumbled, his expression hardening. “I don’t like the idea of my daughter sleeping in the bunkhouse with a bunch of rowdy men.”
I froze for a moment, feeling the weight of my father's words. He wasn’t looking at me, but I could hear the concern in his voice.
"She ain’t my daughter," he muttered, his gaze hardening as he stared at Avery.
I swallowed hard, trying not to let the frustration show on my face. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand where he was coming from—his protective instincts ran deep—but this felt different.
“Dad, I’ve worked with these men for years,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm. “I’m not some kid that needs to be protected. Besides, you know I’ve always had my own way of handling things.”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice softer but still firm. “But you're not out there just to work anymore. You're part of this family, and your safety comes first.”
I bit back a sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to win this argument. But the truth was, I wasn’t about to let anyone dictate where I could sleep.
“Well, we’ll see how things go,” I said, my voice final. “But you can count on me to support Kayce. I’ve always had his back.”
I glanced over at the cowboys, all lined up and waiting for the day’s work, trying to keep my gaze casual, even though my eyes lingered a little longer on one of them. My father had noticed—more than I realized. Or maybe I just hadn’t wanted to see it. Eventually, he would find out.
I wasn’t sure what his response would be. Ryan was a good man. Hell, he was better than most of the men I knew. But whether he was ready for this—ready for my father to know, to be a part of what was happening between us—was another thing entirely. Would my father see him the way I did? Would he respect him, or would it be a different kind of test, one neither of us was prepared for?
I wasn’t ready for the answers, but I knew they’d come. And soon.
Kayce led his horse out of the barn, scanning the line of cowboys like he wasn’t sure what his next move should be.
I placed a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly, “Go be the boss.”
“He’s not gonna follow me,” Kayce said to our father, voice tight, glancing back at Rip.
“It ain’t about his respect, it’s about all of theirs,” Dad responded, unwavering.
Kayce nodded, then mounted his horse. All eyes were on him as he spoke, his voice carrying command. “We’ll push 'em up the valley, then over the saddle at East River Road. We’ll take that up the canyon. Ryan, you and Colby got point. Walker, Cowboy, you’re on swing. Avery and Jimmy, flank.”
I listened as Kayce ran down the positions, his words coming smoothly, with no hesitation. Drag was the last to be called. The worst job—dusty, back-breaking work. But it was a job. If that’s where Kayce wanted me…
“Rip, you and Lloyd are riding drag,” Kayce added, eyes flicking to them. I waited, staring at my brother, waiting for him to assign me a spot.
“Kayce?” I said, voice soft but persistent.
“I need you to stay here,” he said, his voice firm.
The glare I shot him could’ve sliced right through him. But I held my tongue. If this was what standing by my brother meant, then it sure fucking sucked.
I waited until they had ridden out before storming into the barn, my frustration building. I wasn’t going to let them see how much it bothered me, how much it fucking hurt. I took the saddle off my horse, stowed it in the tack room, and led him into the stall.
“I know you were looking forward to chasing cows,” I murmured, running my hand down his nose. “We both were.” I filled his trough with hay, letting him get comfortable, though he seemed more at peace than I felt.
I drew in a few calming breaths, trying to let the quiet of the barn settle my mind. I crossed over to Denim’s stall. “I know training wasn’t on the schedule today, but you up for it?” He snorted, his ears flicking back in response.
"Alex,” I heard my dad's stern voice, pulling me from my thoughts. “I don’t want you training today either.”
I shot him a look, frustration bubbling up again. “I can’t run cattle, I can’t trick ride. What can I do, Dad?”
He softened his tone, but it didn’t ease the ache in my chest. “Can you just be still for a little while, sweetheart?”
I let out a breath, defeated, and muttered under my breath, “I don’t think I know how to do that, Dad.”
I walked in silence with my father out of the barn, my boots crunching in the gravel as I tried to find a rhythm to my thoughts. For a moment, I let myself breathe, the weight of everything pressing in on me.
“You know it’s hard for him to tell you what to do,” Dad said, breaking the silence.
“It sure as fuck didn’t seem that hard,” I shot back, my frustration simmering just under the surface.
“The bond you two share,” Dad continued, his voice soft but firm, “is deeper and different than he or you have with the others. You came into this world together. You’re connected in a way that no one but you can understand. You have to let him be in control now, sweetheart. That’s how he’s gonna be able to run this place.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, the reality of it all sinking in deeper. It felt like I was losing something, but I knew he was right. Kayce needed to step up, even if it meant me stepping back.
“What’s left for me, Dad?” I asked, my voice tinged with frustration as I leaned against the fence, my eyes following the line of cowboys as they disappeared into the distance. “I’m not gonna wait patiently in the kitchen or whatever ‘ladies’ do.”
“No, I don’t expect you will,” Dad said, his tone steady as he watched me. “But you’ll get to ride again,” he promised. “When Kayce doesn’t need you to hold him up in front of the others…” He let the words hang in the air for a moment, letting the weight of them settle.
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep the wave of emotions from overtaking me. It wasn’t just about the horses or the work—it was about the place I thought I held in this family. It was about watching my brother step into a role I’d been preparing for my whole life.
But as I stood there, facing the future, I knew my dad was right. For now, it was Kayce’s turn. And I had to let him lead.
I stood at the edge of the arena, my gaze fixed on the horizon as the horses galloped back from the field. They hadn’t been gone long enough to have gathered the cattle up the canyon. Something was wrong—there was an unease in the air, something off that I couldn’t put my finger on.
The cowboys began filtering into the arena, their faces just as uncertain as mine. No one spoke, but the tension was thick. It was as if the earth itself had held its breath.
Kayce swung down from his horse, his movements sharp and purposeful. His chest was puffed up, his jaw set with that familiar stubbornness. He was ready for something, and I knew it wasn’t just about the cattle anymore. It was something deeper.
I followed his stride, eyes flicking to Rip, who dismounted right behind him. The same puffed-up stance. The same hard glare in his eyes. Two men caught in the same web of pride, both unwilling to back down. And I had a feeling this wasn’t going to end quietly.
Rip swung the first punch, fast and hard, and Kayce was right there with the second. Their bodies collided in a blur of raw aggression. Punches landed with bone-crushing force, their grunts filling the air as they exchanged blow after blow. The weight of it all settled in my stomach like lead. My muscles tensed, but I kept my face as unreadable as possible—just like my father, whose eyes were locked on the fight with a gaze that betrayed nothing.
"You want us to get in there?" Ryan asked, his voice a low murmur, but I knew it wasn’t just about breaking up a fight. It was about what it meant for the ranch, for the men who worked it, and for the hierarchy that was constantly shifting beneath us.
"No," Dad said firmly, his voice unshaken. "This needs to happen."
And I understood then. The fight wasn’t just about who was stronger or who could take the harder punch. It was about proving something deeper. A battle of control. Who was going to hold the reins?
With a final, brutal blow, Rip hit the ground and stayed there. Kayce stood tall over him, his chest heaving with exertion, and wiped his hands clean. He picked up his hat from the dirt as if it were nothing, his face hard as stone.
"There ain't no fighting on this ranch," Kayce declared, his voice steady but sharp. "If you wanna fight, come fight me."
The air hung heavy as the hands turned and walked away, leaving Rip on the ground, still trying to catch his breath. I caught the moment Rip stood, his movements slow but deliberate. I knew then that he’d let Kayce win. He wasn’t beaten by the punch, but by the weight of what this meant for his place here.
Dad’s voice broke the silence, calm but commanding as always. "You made him earn it," he said to Rip. "Thank you. Now I need you two to get along. Kayce needs to be able to depend on you."
Rip’s eyes shifted toward me, the quiet tension in the air intensifying. "Can you depend on him, sir?" Rip’s voice was steady but laced with something I couldn’t quite place. "Cause I’ve never seen proof that you can. Not like with her," his gaze flicked toward me, then back to Dad. "But I guess you see something I don’t see."
Dad’s eyes hardened as he met Rip’s gaze, unwavering. "He’s my son, Rip. That’s what I see."
The words hung heavy between them, but before anyone could respond, Rip turned and walked back toward the barn, leaving a trail of questions in his wake. "Jamie’s your son too, sir," Rip called back without turning. "What did you see in him?"
The barn doors creaked as they swung closed, and I was left standing there, the weight of his words settling like dust in the air.
—-
I did my duty, and instead of following after Rip or joining the cowboys in the bunkhouse, I walked back into the house with my father. A tense quiet hung between us, thick and heavy, like the kind of silence you can feel pressing down on your chest.
I made my way up to my room, each step a little heavier than the last. When I reached the door, I leaned against it, my fingers brushing against the wood as if that could steady me. My mind was still reeling from the fight, from everything that had happened, and from the words I’d heard—Rip’s, my father’s.
I didn’t even realize the tears were falling until I felt them streaking down my face, warm against my skin. I wasn’t one of those girls who broke down at every little thing. I was hard, stone-faced, unbothered by the usual sappy moments that got other people’s emotions in a twist. Hell, throw a dog in a movie, and sure, I’d cry. Homeward Bound, Ole Yeller—those were real heartstring pullers. But anything else? I prided myself on staying tough.
But today… today, I was made to feel small. It was like the weight of the world had just pressed me down, and for once, I couldn’t fight it. I hated it. Hated the feeling of being vulnerable, of being diminished by everything happening around me. I was a daughter, a sister, a woman who had been raised to stand tall. Not shrink in the shadow of someone else’s expectations.
But I wasn’t sure who I was supposed to be right now.
I washed my face, the cold water helping to clear my mind, but the sting of everything that had happened still lingered. Staring at my reflection, I tried to make sense of what I was feeling—frustration, confusion, anger. But above it all, there was an ache.
The knock at my door pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called, wiping my face with the back of my hand, hoping it wasn’t too obvious.
The door creaked open, and Kayce stepped in, his presence filling the room. He didn’t speak at first, just stood there, taking in the sight of me. I couldn’t bear the silence. Before I could stop myself, I crossed the room and slid my arms around his waist, pressing my face into his chest.
His body tensed at first, but then he relaxed into me, his arms coming around me, holding me close.
I didn’t remember when he became so much bigger than me. The years had slipped away quietly, and I had never noticed how the space between us had changed. But now, standing in his embrace, it was undeniable. I suppose it was always bound to happen—he’d grown into the man he was meant to be. But I never wanted it to happen. He used to promise me it never would.
“I’m sorry, Alex,” Kayce said softly, his voice carrying the weight of everything left unsaid.
“I know,” I murmured, my forehead still pressed against his chest. “It’s this place. It makes you do things you don’t always want to do.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, exhaling a slow breath. “Next time we go out, you’re beside me. I never meant to push you down. Or away.”
I pulled back just enough to look up at him, studying his face. “Maybe you should tell your wife that too.”
His jaw tightened slightly, the way it always did when something was eating at him. “I’m not quite ready for that yet,” he said.
“Don’t wait too long,” I warned.
“I won’t,” he promised, but there was hesitation in his voice.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at me. “Now go wash your face. You’re snotting all over my clean shirt.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled, shoving him lightly before stepping away.
He chuckled, and for a moment, the heaviness between us lifted. I disappeared into the bathroom, turning the faucet on and splashing cool water on my face again. Maybe I’d wash away more than just the tears. Maybe, for just a moment, I could wash away everything else too.
Kayce and I walked down the stairs together, a quiet understanding settling between us as we stepped into the dining room. The rich aroma of pot roast filled the air—Gator’s doing, no doubt. As much as I enjoyed eating outside with the cowboys, there was something grounding about sitting at the family table.
Dad sat at the head of the table, his usual place, while Kayce took the seat to his left. I slid into the chair beside my brother, the warmth of the meal contrasting with the tension that had loomed over the day.
Dad's eyes flicked between us, reading the unspoken truce. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He saw it. We were united. And on this ranch, that mattered more than words.
I glanced up from my plate at the sound of Beth’s approaching footsteps.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she said, pressing a quick peck to Dad’s cheek before dropping into the seat across from Kayce. Her sharp eyes swept over him, taking in the fresh bruises decorating his face
.
“Hey,” Kayce muttered between bites of food.

“Rough day at the office?” Beth smirked, nodding at his battered face.

Dad shot her a warning look, but Kayce just shrugged. “It was hard, but good.”

Beth raised a brow. “What happened?” She glanced between the two of us, her suspicion growing. “And what little wonder twin plotting do you two have going on?”

Dad let out a tired sigh. “Let’s not talk about work at the dinner table.”

Beth scoffed. “He gets up at four a.m. to go to work. You go to bed thinking about work. If we don’t talk about work, what the hell are we supposed to talk about? You expect us to eat in silence, Daddy?”

Dad lifted his hand, the universal sign for drop it.

Beth’s eyes flashed. “Are you shushing me, Daddy?” she snapped. “I’m a thirty-five-year-old woman. I will talk about whatever the fuck I want to talk about.” With that, she tossed her napkin onto the table and stormed out.

I barely contained my laughter, biting down on my lip.

“I see nothing’s changed,” Kayce said, shaking his head.

“She hasn’t made it through a whole meal since she was eleven,” Dad muttered.

Kayce chuckled, and even Dad couldn’t help but smirk.

“By the way,” I said, leveling my gaze at our father, “you’ve got physical therapy tomorrow.”

“I know,” he grumbled.

“And you ain’t missing it,” Kayce added firmly.
Dad let out a long-suffering sigh. “I won’t,” he gruffed.
—-
Kayce smirked as we walked toward his house. “If you want to use the foreman’s house with Ryan, I can wait outside until you’re done.”
I shot him a disgusted look. “You think that’s sweet, but that is so gross.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not having sex in your bed.”
“Trust me, he wouldn’t mind,” Kayce chuckled. “I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
“Trust you?” I arched a brow at him. “You got me kicked out of the bunkhouse. It’ll be days before Dad stops paying attention long enough for me to sneak back in.”
Kayce stopped walking, turning to face me with a serious expression. “You don’t belong in the bunkhouse, Alex. You fit in there, but you deserve better than a bunkhouse mattress.”
I sighed, glancing toward the horizon. “It’s what we have,” I said softly. “Stolen moments. Places to sneak off to.”
Kayce studied me for a moment before asking, “Do you love him?”
The question settled heavy in my chest, an ache forming before I even spoke the words. I hesitated, then finally admitted, “Yes.” My voice was quieter than I meant it to be. “I told him once… a long time ago.” I exhaled a shaky breath. “And it didn’t exactly go the way I planned.”
“Maybe he wasn’t ready to hear it then,” he said.
“What happens when I say it and he doesn’t say it back…again?”
“I think you’re more scared of what it means if he does say it,” Kayce sat down in the chair on his porch.
I swallowed hard, Kayce’s words settling in my chest like a stone.
“Maybe,” I admitted, sitting down on the porch steps. The cool evening air did little to ease the heat rising in my face. “If he doesn’t say it back, at least I’ll know where I stand.”
Kayce leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out. “And if he does?”
I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “Then everything changes.”
Kayce smirked. “Everything’s already changed, Alex. You’re just pretending it hasn’t.”
I looked out over the ranch, my fingers tracing idle patterns on the wood step beneath me. “Yeah,” I muttered, “maybe I am.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Kayce told me, “you always do.”
“You need to figure out your stuff too,” I glanced back at him, “and take a little of your own advice. Tell her how you feel.”
“I will,” he looked at me with a challenge, “you first.”
I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. "That ain't fair."
Kayce smirked. "Sure it is. You push me, I push you. That’s how this works."
I rolled my eyes and looked back out over the ranch. The sky was painted in fading streaks of gold and orange, the last light of the day stretching over the land that had raised us both.
"You scared?" he asked after a beat.
"Terrified," I admitted, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.
Kayce nodded like he understood. Maybe he did. "Then I guess we both got some shit to do."
"Yeah," I sighed, "I guess we do."
I stood up looking at the bunkhouse then back to the main house.
“What are you gonna do?” Kayce asked.
“Man up, I suppose,” I responded, “But tonight, I’ve got to text him like a fourteen-year-old girl 'cause I can’t go to the bunkhouse.”
Kayce chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see the day my badass sister was sneaking around like some love-struck teenager."
"Shut up," I muttered, pulling out my phone. "You got me into this mess."
"Yeah, yeah," he smirked. "Just don’t get caught by Dad. Or Rip."
I shot him a glare before focusing on my screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Hey, cowboy. Can’t come by tonight. Got exiled from the bunkhouse. Blame my brother.
I hit send and exhaled, waiting for a response. It came almost instantly.
Guess I’ll just have to dream about you then.
I bit my lip, warmth spreading through me. Sweet dreams, then.
Kayce laughed beside me. "You're blushing."
“You’re an ass, Kayce."

Chapter Text

I resisted the urge to text Ryan again when I got back to my room, forcing myself to think better of it. I wasn’t going to be that girl—the one who couldn’t go a single night without checking in, who hovered over her phone waiting for a response, who needed constant reassurance.
But as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but wonder—what was he doing? And more importantly… was he thinking about me too?
I stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet creaks of the house settling around me. The bunkhouse was probably still awake, filled with laughter, the occasional bickering, and the sound of cards slapping against the table. Ryan was there—maybe drinking a beer, maybe already stretched out on his bunk.
Was he thinking about me?
I sighed, rolling onto my side. This was ridiculous. I wasn’t some lovesick girl pining for a boy. I was a grown woman, a damn good cowboy, and yet here I was, staring at my phone like it might somehow give me the answer.
I wouldn’t text him again.
Nope.
Not happening.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to sleep. But as much as I fought it, my thoughts drifted back to him—his easy smile, the way his hands felt on me, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at me like I was something worth holding on to.
Damn it.
I was that girl.
I climbed out of bed, the weight of frustration pressing heavy on my chest. A deep breath didn’t shake it. Neither did pacing the room. So, I headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the restless energy knotting inside me.
As I reached for a towel, my eyes landed on the shirt draped over the top of my hamper—Ryan’s shirt, the one I’d slept in the night before. Without thinking, I picked it up, bringing the fabric to my nose. His scent still lingered, a mix of worn leather, faded cologne, and something unmistakably him. It was comforting in a way I hadn’t expected, sending a warmth through me that had nothing to do with the night air.
Slowly, I peeled off my pajamas and slipped the shirt over my head. The fabric was soft, well-worn, settling over my skin like a second embrace. It wasn’t the same as having him here, but it was close. Close enough.
—---

Kayce kept his word. Before we moved the cattle up the canyon, he pulled me aside. We sat atop our horses, watching the ranch come alive with the morning sun, the cowboys already moving with purpose, the sound of hooves and low murmurs filling the air.
“You alright?” I asked, glancing over at him. His face was twisted up in the way it always got when he was pushing something down, locking it away where no one could get to it.
“Yeah,” he muttered, but the look in his eyes told a different story. I knew better than to press him now. There were things that needed saying, but timing was everything.
Instead, he shifted gears, turning to Dad. “What do you think about pasture twelve?”
Dad rubbed his chin, considering it. “Well, that’s what I was thinking.”
“There’s no hot wire around that river,” Kayce pointed out, then looked at me, giving me the space to weigh in. “If they cross it, God only knows where they’ll end up.”
I nodded, already running through alternatives. “There’s a creek in pasture nine,” I offered. “And a fence around it. They can stay there until Thanksgiving.”
Dad looked between us, shaking his head with a small, knowing smirk. “Well, I guess nine it is.”
Kayce narrowed his eyes at him. “You never wanted ’em in twelve, did you?”
Dad shrugged. “Life’s always a test.” Then his expression turned more serious as he turned back to Kayce. “Need you at the livestock association office today.”
Kayce frowned. “I was gonna help them push ‘em out.”
“I’m sure whatever plot you two have cooked up,” Dad’s gaze flicked between us, “your sister can handle on her own. You’re about to learn how little cowboying ranchers actually do.”
Kayce sighed but didn’t argue. I smirked, shaking my head. “Guess that means I get to do all the real work.”
Kayce just huffed, nudging his horse forward. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Only a little,” I followed behind him.

I sat beside him on my horse as we explained the job for the day.
“We’re moving the herd to pasture nine,” Kayce began.
“We’ll take them through the east canyon and up the fire road,” I added.
Kayce scanned the group. “Any questions?”

The wranglers’ eyes seemed to bounce from Kayce to me and back as we spoke. I suppose if you’d never seen us together like that, you wouldn’t understand. When Kayce and I were younger, we used to always finish each other’s sentences. We’d hold conversations with other people speaking with almost one mind. We had our own thoughts of course but when it came to things like this—things we’d done together our whole lives—our minds just worked in sync. It wasn’t something we tried to do. It just happened.
The wranglers didn’t question it, though some of them still looked like they weren’t sure which one of us to take orders from. I saw Ryan smirk slightly, like he was used to it by now.
“There’s no gate along Fire Road. We’d have to cut the fence,” Ryan pointed out.
“Exactly,” Kayce said. “We’ll cut it, move the herd through, and patch it up after.”
Ryan didn’t look thrilled, but he didn’t argue.
“We could push them across the river and follow the creek,” Colby suggested.
“Then we’d have to swim a hundred head of cattle across,” Ryan countered.
I sighed. Being in charge was proving more difficult than I expected.
“Cows can swim,” Colby muttered.
“I can’t swim,” Jimmy added, earning a sharp look from Rip.
Rip snorted. “Do you know how to shut the fuck up? They didn’t ask for your damn opinion—just if you had questions. And you don’t.”
Silence fell over the group. No one else dared to speak.
“Alright,” I said, settling into my saddle. “Let’s head out.”
The men rode out into the field, and I cast Kayce a knowing look before nudging my horse forward, leaving him to his new responsibilities at the livestock office.
As we moved toward the pasture, Rip pulled up alongside me. “Don’t let them walk all over you like you’re their best goddamn friend,” he warned.
“I’m not trying to,” I admitted, keeping my eyes on the riders ahead. “I just want them to respect me.”
“They will,” he said without hesitation. Then, after a beat, he glanced at me and added, “They do. Probably more than him.”
He cocked his head in the direction Kayce had ridden off, his meaning clear.
“You could’ve taken him any day of the week,” I told him, my voice steady.
Rip smirked, but there was no real amusement in it. “Yeah, well, I do what I gotta for the ranch,” he reminded me.
I wanted to tell him that even if my father, my brothers—hell, even Beth—didn’t see him for who he really was, I did. He wasn’t just muscle. He was an enforcer, a protector. The backbone of this place.
He always had been.
—
“Nice shirt,” I teased, watching Ryan button it up. “Wish you were wearing it for me—and I was the one taking it off.”
With Dad at the Livestock office, I’d taken my chance to slip into the bunkhouse unnoticed. Technically, I wasn’t disobeying him. I hadn’t planned on staying the night—just stealing a few moments. But I hadn’t accounted for Ryan needing to be at the office too.
“I know, baby,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. “But it’s my job.”
I couldn’t argue with that. If anything, I was glad Dad trusted Ryan enough to send him. He did the work to keep the ranch running clean—or at least, clean enough for anyone not looking too closely.
Still, I pouted, trailing my gaze over him. “Guess I’ll just have to pack this image away… when I use the dick in my nightstand later.”
Ryan stilled for half a second before a slow smirk spread across his lips. “Well… that’s an interesting thing I didn’t know about you.”
I arched a brow. “What’s so surprising? I’ve got needs.”
Ryan chuckled, buttoning the last of his shirt as he stepped closer. “Oh, I’m not surprised, sweetheart. Just wondering why you’d ever need it when you’ve got me.”
I leaned back against the bunkhouse door, arms crossed. “Because sometimes, you’re busy being all responsible and shit,” I teased.
He hummed, tilting his head. “Well, that don’t seem fair. I’m out here workin’ my ass off, and you’re in bed thinking about me?”
I smirked. “Who said I was thinking about you?”
His hands landed on my hips, pulling me just a little closer. “You just did.” His breath was warm against my skin, his lips brushing my temple before he took a step back. “But I gotta go before your daddy starts wonderin’ where I am.”
I sighed dramatically. “Fine. Go be a good cowboy.”
He tipped his hat at me with a grin. “Don’t wear yourself out too much, sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight.” Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the bunkhouse with nothing but the thought of him—and the promise of later.
—

“Gator, what the fuck is that?” Dad gruffed, looking at the platter of grilled octopus that was presented to us to eat. I shared my Dad’s sentiments as I looked at the charred creature on the plate.

“Mediterranean diet, Daddy,” Beth answered, “If I have to eat another steak, I will have to have a colonic with a firehose. It’s good,” she looked at me, then to our father, “Try it.”

I wrinkled my nose as I forked a tentacle onto my plate. “If you say so.”

“How was your day?” Beth asked.

Dad grunted, still eyeing the octopus like it had personally offended him. “Be better if I didn’t have to eat this shit.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’d eat a damn boot if Gator grilled it.”
I stifled a laugh as I reluctantly cut into the tentacle on my plate. “How was your day?” I asked, mostly to change the subject.
Dad stabbed at his food—thankfully, not the octopus. “Busy.”
Beth scoffed, sipping her wine. “Wow. Riveting conversation. Truly.”
I smirked, shaking my head as I took a hesitant bite. Surprisingly, it wasn’t terrible. “Could use some steak on the side,” I muttered.
Dad pointed his fork at me approvingly. “See? She’s got sense.”
Beth just sighed. “You two are impossible.”
“What about you, Kayce?” I asked. “How was your day?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbled, sounding more and more like our father.
“You always say that,” Dad muttered.
Kayce jabbed his fork into his octopus. “When I have a day worth talking about, I’ll shout it from the damn rooftop.”
Dad smirked. “That any good?”
Kayce shrugged. “I don’t care what I eat.”
I stifled a laugh, but any humor in the moment vanished when we heard footsteps approaching. We all looked up as Jamie walked in.
“I dropped out of the race,” he announced.
Dad didn’t miss a beat. “You hungry?”
Jamie nodded and pulled out a chair.
“Where the hell you been?” Kayce asked, still clueless about the mess that had unfolded while he was off brooding.
“I’m gonna go for a ride,” I said, pushing back from the table, eager to escape the awkward tension lingering in the air.
Dad sighed. “It’s getting late, honey.”
“Don’t worry about me, Dad.” I leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before heading for the door.
The evening air was crisp as I stepped onto the porch, pulling out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before I typed:
Hey, cowboy, you wanna saddle us up a couple of horses and join me for a ride?
I chewed my lip, staring at the screen, waiting.
A moment later, my phone buzzed.
Can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. See you in the barn in ten minutes?
I smiled, slipping my phone back into my pocket as I made my way toward the barn.
Ryan already had his horse saddled and was tightening the cinch on mine when I stepped into the barn. I lingered by the door, leaning against the wall, watching him. The way his muscles flexed with each movement, the quiet confidence in his hands as he worked. He was always gentle with the horses—even when no one was watching.
Sensing my gaze, he glanced over, flashing one of those easy, devastating smiles. “Figured you’d be too worn out from that dick in your nightstand to come see me.”
I smirked, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “It does the job in a pinch,” I teased. “But it doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing.”
“You ready?” he asked, that smirk still tugging at the corners of his lips.
I nodded, letting him help me into the saddle. We both knew I didn’t need it, but I still savored the way his hands lingered on my hips as I swung my leg over.
“Always,” I murmured, looking down at him as he paused for just a second before mounting his own horse.
We rode in comfortable silence, the rhythmic beat of hooves against the earth filling the quiet between us. Just far enough from the house that no one would notice, I pulled my horse to a stop. My gaze drifted to the horizon, where the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting golden light over the land.
It may as well have been the edge of the world. But it was beautiful.
And it was mine.
“You’ve got that look, Alex,” Ryan said, his voice low and knowing.
“What look?” I quirked a brow, feigning innocence.
“The one that says you want to say something but won’t.” His gaze held mine, waiting.
I slid down from my saddle, the cool night air doing nothing to temper the heat burning in my chest. Looking up at him, my eyes dark and wanting, I finally admitted, “I don’t want to talk, Ryan.”
“That so?” His lips curved, but there was something deeper in his expression—understanding, anticipation. He swung down from his horse, tying off both reins before turning to me.
His hands found my waist, rough palms warm against me as he pulled me in, closing the space between us. With a teasing tilt of his fingers, he tipped my hat back, his lips capturing mine in a slow, searing kiss. A kiss that stole the breath from my lungs and set my skin ablaze.
I slid my arms around his neck, pressing against him, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. The familiar heat of him, the way his body fit against mine—it had been too long. Too many stolen moments, too many nights spent aching for this.
My fingers worked their way down his shirt, impatience getting the better of me as I popped the buttons, sending them scattering into the grass.
Ryan chuckled against my lips. “Damn, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked.”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I murmured, already tugging at his belt, desperate to feel him—just him—against me.
His hands worked my jeans down over my hips, slow and deliberate, the rough drag of denim against my skin sending a shiver up my spine. I kicked off my boots, stepping free of the tangled fabric, my breath hitching as his palms smoothed over my bare thighs.
A low moan escaped me as he gripped my hips, his touch firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of me. His fingers traced the curve of my waist before sliding lower, setting fire to every nerve in their path.
“Missed this,” he murmured, his voice husky against my ear. “Missed you.”
I tilted my head back, letting him claim my skin with his lips, my hands tangling in his hair as I pressed closer. “Then don’t make me wait any longer.”
He lifted me effortlessly, guiding me down onto him as he lowered himself to the soft earth. A shuddering gasp escaped my lips as he filled me, stretching me in a way that was all too familiar and yet never enough. My fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to him as heat pulsed through my veins.
Ryan groaned, his grip tightening on my hips, holding me flush against him as he let me adjust. “Damn, Alex…” he breathed, voice rough with restraint.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my lips finding the salt of his skin. I licked, tasted him, before sinking my teeth in just enough to make him hiss. His hands flexed on me in response, and I felt the way it ignited something primal in him.
“Impatient, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice dark with want.
I lifted my head, meeting his gaze, my breath hot against his lips. “You gonna do something about it?”
Ryan let out a low growl, his grip tightening as he thrust up into me, deeper, harder—giving me exactly what I craved. My body arched against his, every nerve igniting at the way he filled me, stretched me, claimed me.
His breath was hot against my throat, his lips dragging along my skin as his fingers dug into my hips, holding me right where he wanted me. “That’s right,” he rasped, voice thick with need.
I let my tongue glide up the column of his neck, teasing, tasting, savoring the salt of his skin before I whispered into his ear, “I’ve been thinking about having you inside me all day.”
Ryan groaned, his pace faltering for half a second before he regained control, rolling his hips up into mine with a punishing rhythm. “You say shit like that, baby,” he murmured, voice wrecked, “and I won’t last.”
“Then don’t,” I challenged, tightening my grip in his hair as I rocked against him, matching his intensity. “I want to feel it.”
His hand slid between us, his thumb finding my clit, rubbing it in sync with the thrusts of his hips. It was almost too much. The pressure in the pit of my stomach started to build, and it was on the verge of snapping. I could feel him twitching inside me.
“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned. As if I were waiting for his words, my walls pulsed around him, as I let go of all I was hanging onto.
My whole body trembled as the sensations tore through me, white-hot and all-consuming. My fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to him as pleasure crashed over me in relentless waves. My walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, drawing a guttural groan from his lips.
“Good girl,” he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure, his grip on my hips tightening as he thrust into me one last time, hard and deep. A shudder ran through his body as he let go, filling me with his release.
I slumped against him, breathless, my forehead resting against his. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close, grounding me as our heartbeats slowly returned to normal.
Ryan brushed a kiss against my temple, his voice low and rough. “You really do know how to make a man lose his mind, Alex.”
I let out a breathy laugh, still catching my breath. “Good.”
He lay back on the grass pulling me into his arms. I rested my head on his chest as we lay under the night sky. I let my eyes roam his body, “I ever tell you how hot you are?”
“Don’t think you’ve mentioned it, baby,” he smirked. “But I’m glad you like what you see.”
I trailed my fingers over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath my palm. “Like is an understatement,” I murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to his skin. “I could look at you all day.”
Ryan chuckled, his fingers tracing slow circles on my back. “That so?”
“Mhm.” I lifted my head, my eyes roaming over him appreciatively. The moonlight cast soft shadows over his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the strong lines of his body. “You’re all cowboy—rough hands, strong arms, that cocky smirk…” I smirked back. “You know exactly what you do to me.”
His chest rumbled with laughter as he tightened his arms around me. “Damn right I do.” He tilted my chin up, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my lips. “And just so we’re clear, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Alex.”
Warmth spread through me at his words, a feeling deeper than lust settling in my chest. I nestled closer, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as we lay beneath the endless Montana sky.
—-
I was still in a blissful post-Ryan state when I woke up. It was like that every time. I couldn’t stop smiling as I poured myself a cup of coffee.

Jamie, Beth, and Dad were in Helena. Jamie was officially stepping down. Kayce, Rip, and Jimmy were out mending fences. My plan was to find another corner of the ranch to take advantage of my responsibility-free morning.
I sipped my coffee, savoring the quiet. Mornings like this were rare—no immediate fires to put out, no one breathing down my neck, just the wide-open ranch and endless possibilities.
Leaning against the counter, I pulled out my phone and considered texting Ryan. Maybe I’d tempt him into sneaking off with me again, but I knew better. He had work to do, and so did I—eventually.
Still, the thought of wasting a perfectly good morning doing nothing didn’t sit right with me. I set my mug down, grabbed my hat, and headed for the door. If I was lucky, I’d find a secluded spot where no one would come looking for me.
Good mornings never last. The sharp ring of my phone shattered the peace, and when I glanced at the screen, Kayce’s name stared back at me.
I sighed, bringing it to my ear. “Couldn’t figure out the fence post without me?” I teased, expecting some minor inconvenience.
But his voice was different—serious, edged with something heavy. “I need you to gather the boys up.”
I straightened. “How bad?”
“I counted at least fifty, but I ain’t done,” he admitted. “It’s bad.”
Fifty. Dead cows. And he wasn’t done counting. My stomach dropped.
“I’m on my way,” I said, already moving, tucking my phone into my back pocket and strode toward the barn. Whatever happened out there wasn’t just bad—it was a disaster.
I hadn’t prepared myself for what I was about to see.
The field was littered with bodies—cows stretched out, bloated and still. The stench of death clung to the air, thick and suffocating.
“What happened to them?” My voice came out steadier than I felt.
“Bloat,” Kayce said grimly.
I swallowed hard. I knew what cattle were raised for; they fed us. But this? This was cruel. A slow, painful death, their stomachs swollen until they collapsed under their own weight.
Dad and Jamie arrived soon after, their faces grim as they took in the scene of the massacre.
Lloyd stepped forward, holding up a handful of green. “Mr. Dutton, this is the culprit.”
Clover.
“This is a crime scene, Dad,” I said, my gut telling me this wasn’t some careless mistake. This was deliberate.
Dad’s jaw tightened. “Jamie, get livestock agents out here.” His gaze shifted to Ryan. “Ryan, you’re not a reserve agent anymore. You’re on regular duty. Find a way to cover this area. I don’t want a bird landing in it.”
Ryan gave a sharp nod, already falling into the role.
I met his eyes. Any other day, I’d be proud—hell, excited—that my father trusted him enough to offer him a promotion. But today… today wasn’t the day for that.
Our family’s enemies had stacked up over the years, but I couldn’t picture one who would be capable of something this cruel. Then again, I didn’t always see the evil people kept hidden just beneath the surface.
Beth would call that willful ignorance.
She might be right about that.
“Who could do this, Dad?” I murmured, my eyes scanning the field of lifeless cattle.
My father didn’t hesitate. His jaw was set, his eyes dark with certainty.
“I know exactly who did this,” he said. “I just gotta find a way to prove it.”
—-
I scoffed as my father’s old friend—his former friend—Sheriff Donnie Haskell, stepped into the field. He knelt down, picking up a handful of clover, and held it up to my father.
“You think this was intentional?” he asked, his tone laced with skepticism. “I don’t see tire tracks, John, and the fence is way over there, so no one threw it over. It didn’t fall outta the fucking sky.”
His words hit me like a hammer.
The plane.
When I was riding back from my… excursion with Ryan, I’d heard an engine overhead. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now?
“That’s exactly what they did,” I said, my voice firm. “I heard it last night when I was out… riding.”
Haskell let out a sharp exhale, eyeing me like I was some naive little girl spinning a fairy tale. “So you think someone flew a plane overhead and dropped clover on your cattle?” His gaze settled on me, and then he smirked. “I think you might be hearing things, sweetheart.”
The way he said it made my skin crawl.
Jamie, who’d been quiet until now, finally spoke. “A King Air was designed for skydiving. Its side door is large enough to dump a payload mid-flight.”
Haskell looked at him, then back at my father. “Why the hell would anyone do that?” His voice was still doubtful, but there was a sliver of unease in his expression. “Who would do that?”
“You know exactly who,” Dad stated, his voice like gravel. “Your golfing buddy, Dan Jenkins.”
“The Paradise Valley guy?” I quirked a brow. “The one who just signed that deal with… what’s his name? The chief over at the Reservation?”
Jamie nodded. “Thomas Rainwater.”
Haskell let out a sharp breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, John. If that’s what you think, then why the fuck am I here? I’ve got no jurisdiction, and cattle is your department.”
Dad took a step closer, locking eyes with him. “Because I need your deputies. And I need you to deputize some of my men.” His voice left no room for argument.
Haskell scoffed, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ.”
“Starting with him.” Dad motioned to Kayce.
Kayce, who’d been standing off to the side, shifted his weight but said nothing. His face was unreadable, but I knew my brother. He’d been trying to stay out of this kind of thing, trying to build something different for his family. And yet, here he was—dragged right back in.
Sheriff Haskell studied my father for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose, nodding. “Alright. But if this shit blows up, it’s on you.”
Dad didn’t even flinch. “It always is. And if he calls dispatch for support, I expect you to give it to him.” His voice cut through the air like a whip. “Do you hear me, Donnie?”
“I heard you, John,” the sheriff shot back, throwing his hands up as he turned on his heel. “Hell, the whole goddamn valley heard you!”
I crossed my arms, watching as he stomped off. This wasn’t the first time Dad had forced his hand, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.
Dad turned back to us, his gaze sharp and unwavering. “We know who did this.” His attention shifted to Jamie. “You find the evidence.” Then to Kayce. “And when he does, you drag that son of a bitch back to me—by the hair if you have to.”
Kayce nodded once, jaw tight, but said nothing.
Jamie adjusted his tie, exhaling like he already regretted being involved.
Me? I just watched them both, knowing damn well that once this started, there was no stopping it.
“You have any idea what kind of plane it was, Alex?” Jamie asked as we walked away from the carnage in the field.
“I didn’t exactly see it,” I admitted, frustration tightening in my chest. A knot formed in my stomach, heavy with the weight of what I might’ve missed. If I had been paying attention, maybe I would’ve noticed more. Maybe I could have stopped it. “I’m sorry… I was just—”
“Hey,” Kayce cut me off, his tone firm but understanding. “It ain’t your fault.”
I met his gaze, searching for any hint of blame, but there was none. Just my brother, steady as ever, reminding me that this—this fight, this war—was bigger than any one of us.
Ryan was waiting by the truck when we made it back to the house. I wanted nothing more than to sink into his arms, to let him hold me and take some of this weight off my shoulders. But now wasn’t the time. Still, he sensed it—the stress, the worry pressing down on me.
“You alright?” he asked softly.
I nodded, though we both knew it wasn’t entirely true. “Going with Kayce to handle this situation?” I kept my tone casual, careful. I couldn’t afford to let anything slip, not with my father just steps away. He had enough to deal with without adding me and Ryan to the list.
“I am,” Ryan confirmed.
“Chicken,” I teased, forcing a small smile.
“What?” His lips curved in amusement.
“For lunch,” I clarified, eyes a little brighter as I looked at him. “I bet you’re getting the chicken.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. I stepped closer, my hand resting lightly on his arm, just for a second. “Be careful, okay?”
“I always am,” he assured me.
“You ready to go?” Kayce’s voice cut in from behind me. I turned to see him watching us with a knowing smirk.
“Don’t worry, Alex, I’ll try to bring him back in one piece for you.”
“I’d appreciate that,” I replied smoothly. “I like all his pieces.”
“I’m sure you do,” Kayce shot back, his grin widening.
I rolled my eyes before shifting my attention to my brother. “You be careful too,” I warned, my teasing edge giving way to something more serious. “And don’t do anything stupid.”
Kayce scoffed. “When have I ever done anything stupid?”
I arched a brow. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
Ryan chuckled under his breath, and Kayce shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he climbed into the truck.
I watched them drive off, my stomach twisting. I hated this part—waiting, wondering if they’d come back the same way they left. If they’d come back at all.
I walked into the house, restless energy buzzing beneath my skin. I needed something—anything—to do that could help. I wasn’t a fighter like Kayce, charging headfirst into danger. And I wasn’t a brilliant legal mind like Jamie, who could dismantle someone with a single document. But there had to be something I could contribute.
“Jamie?” I called out, my voice carrying through the quiet halls.
“Back here,” his voice echoed from Dad’s office.
I followed the sound, finding him hunched over his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration. Papers were spread across the desk, a legal pad filled with notes beside him.
“Can I help with anything?” I asked, stepping inside.
He barely looked up as he motioned toward the laptop. “Look up small airports near here. Anyplace that could accommodate a King Air.”
I settled in beside him, fingers flying over the keyboard as I pulled up maps and flight records. “There’s a skydiving place in Three Forks,” I said, clicking through the listings. “Few of us went there for Senior Day back in high school. They used a King Air for jumps.”
Jamie’s eyes flicked to me, his interest piqued. “That could be something. Pull up any recent flight records.”
I nodded, already typing. Maybe I wasn’t Kayce, and maybe I wasn’t Jamie, but I sure as hell wasn’t useless either.
I noticed the papers on the desk, ranch paperwork, Jamie wasn’t just in Dad’s office to help with the cattle situation, he was looking to see what changes had been done in his absence. What Dad had Beth do.

“Did you know about the trust?” he asked me.

“Dad didn’t say anything to me about it,” I told him, Dad didn’t get me involved with that side of things. “Why does it matter? If that’s what Dad wants…”

Jamie let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in the chair. "Of course, he didn’t tell you. Why would he? You’re the only one he still treats like a kid."
I frowned, crossing my arms. “That’s not fair, Jamie.”
“Isn’t it?” He gestured to the papers in front of him. “Dad had Beth put the ranch in a trust. Do you even know what that means?”
I hesitated. I had a general idea, but legal jargon wasn’t exactly my expertise. “It means he’s making sure the ranch stays in the family,” I said, though my voice lacked confidence.
Jamie scoffed. “No, Alex. It means he’s making sure Beth controls everything when he’s gone. You and I? We get nothing. We’re just along for the ride.”
I swallowed hard, glancing at the papers again. “Why would he do that?”
Jamie’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes dark with something that almost looked like resentment. “Because he trusts her. And he doesn’t trust me.” His gaze flickered to me. “Or maybe he thinks you don’t want this place enough.”
I felt the knot tighten in my stomach even more. I loved this ranch, but I’d never fought for it the way Beth had. The way Jamie had. Maybe that’s why Dad never told me about the trust—because he didn’t think it would matter to me.
“Why does it matter, Jamie?” I asked, though my voice was quieter now. “If that’s what Dad wants…”
Jamie let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “Because, Alex, when the time comes… what Dad wants might not be what’s best for us.”
I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. Kayce’s signature was scribbled at the bottom of the page. Tate was the beneficiary of the trust. Beth was in control.

“Fuck…what the fuck, Beth?” Jamie groaned.

“What are these?” I asked, looking at Warranty Deeds that were spread across the desk.

“That is how she is going to fuck us,” Jamie stated.

“What’s got you so jumpy?” Beth cocked her brow from the office doorway. “What’s got you so nervous?”

“You scared the fucking shit out of me, for starters,” he said. “And this,” he held up the trust document, “why a trust?”

Beth strolled into the room, completely unfazed by Jamie’s anger. She plucked the papers from his hand, glancing at them like they were nothing more than an afterthought.
"Because, brother," she said coolly, "if this ranch stays in Dad’s name, it’s vulnerable. People could tear it apart the second he’s gone. A trust locks it down." She set the papers back on the desk and fixed Jamie with a glare. "And before you start crying about it, yeah, Dad asked me to do it. Because he trusts me to protect it."
Jamie scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "And of course, that trust just so happens to put you in control of everything."
Beth smirked, tilting her head. "Damn right it does."
I looked between them, my stomach churning. "But why isn’t Kayce listed? Or me?" I gestured to the papers. "Why put all of this on you?"
Beth’s expression softened—for a split second. "Because Kayce doesn’t want this place. He never has. And you?" Her eyes met mine, searching. "Dad didn’t think you’d want to be involved in this fight."
I swallowed hard. "That’s not fair."
Beth shrugged. "Maybe not. But it’s the way it is." She turned her gaze back to Jamie. "And I don’t need you trying to undo it, Jamie. You so much as think about screwing with this, and I’ll make sure you regret it."
Jamie clenched his jaw. "You already screwed me, Beth. What’s one more time?"
Beth just smiled. "Oh, brother. You have no idea. You don’t have a role here anymore, Jamie.”
“Oh, you want to know what my role is?” Jamie smirked, “I think you put it all in a trust so you can do this,” he held up the Warranty Deeds.

“The ranch is an investor, yes,” she responded cooly.

I tried to make sense of it, of everything, but it wasn’t connecting.

“How big an investor?” Jamie spat, “I manage the finances, I need to know how big?!”

“Five million,” she said it in a way that it could have been five dollars for as little as it seemed to matter, “I know, Jamie. You’re worried about the risk.”

“Five million is a big risk,” I responded.

“Sit down, Alex, let the grown-ups talk,” she snorted, “Two things: one, the risk is mitigated,” she glared at Jamie, “and two: If you have the balls you would have done this years ago and Dad wouldn’t be chasing his fucking tail every fall.”

“That’s more than half the ranch’s cash,” Jamie shouted. “What do you think we’re gonna do if cattle prices drop in November? How much do you think this ranch makes in a year? After all the costs, it hasn’t turned a profit in six years. Maybe you don’t understand what losing a few hundred cattle means, but that’s half a million dollars rotting in the field. You screwed us. I want it out, and I want it out today.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Jamie,” Beth shot back. She didn’t grasp the real risk. It wasn’t just money—it was our livelihood—the livelihood of everyone who worked on this ranch.
“You make it work!” Jamie barked.
Beth smirked, giving him a once-over. “I see what you’re doing. You think you’ll get him to trust you by not trusting me? I wish you and your tiny balls the best of luck.” She pushed past me and stormed off.
I steadied myself before turning back to Jamie. “Are we really in that much trouble?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, sinking back into Dad’s office chair. “We are.”
“I’ve saved most of my rodeo winnings,” I offered, lowering myself into a chair.
Jamie scoffed. “I don’t think a couple thousand dollars in your savings account is gonna get us out of this fucking mess, Alex.”
I glared at him. “I’ve won almost every competition since I was eighteen. National titles. Plus, I have endorsement deals with Wrangler and Durango. It’s not just a couple thousand dollars, Jamie.”
His expression shifted. “How much are we talking?”
“Fifty million,” I said.
Jamie’s head snapped up so fast I thought he might give himself whiplash. “Fifty million?” he repeated, staring at me like I’d just sprouted a second head.
I nodded. “Give or take.”
He blinked, then let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’ve been sitting on fifty million dollars, and you never thought to mention it?”
I crossed my arms. “I didn’t think I needed to. This ranch has always been Dad’s to run, and I never wanted him thinking I was making money just to bail him out. He’s stubborn as hell, and you know he wouldn’t take a dime from me unless it was life or death.”
Jamie ran a hand down his face, clearly trying to process this new information. “Well, we’re about a step away from life or death, Alex.”
I leaned forward. “Then tell me the truth—if things don’t turn around, how much longer do we have?”
He hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily. “A year. Maybe less, if cattle prices tank and we don’t recover from this loss.” He gestured toward the trust papers. “Beth thinks she’s saving the ranch, but she’s gambling with money we can’t afford to lose.”
I chewed on my lip, thinking. “I don’t want to step on Dad’s toes, and I sure as hell don’t want to go toe-to-toe with Beth, but if I can help…”
Jamie’s gaze sharpened. “You’d be willing to put some of that money into the ranch?”
I shrugged. “It’s our home, Jamie. It’s our legacy. I don’t want to watch it crumble because of bad business decisions and old grudges.”
Jamie exhaled slowly. “Beth’s not going to like this.”
I smirked. “Beth doesn’t like anything I do. What else is new?”
Jamie let out another small laugh, but the worry never left his eyes. “Alright. Let’s figure out how we use this without setting off a war.”
I stood up, determination settling in my gut. “Then we better start now. Because I’m not letting this ranch fall apart.”

Chapter Text

Another day broke, bringing more of the same heartache. The cattle were gone, but their loss lingered, heavy as the morning fog. The field was tainted, poisoned beyond saving. We’d have to burn it—couldn’t risk the clover taking root and turning this whole damn nightmare into a cycle.
I moved to saddle my horse, needing the familiarity of leather and reins to ground me, but Dad’s voice cut through the silence.
“No horses,” he said firmly.
I exhaled sharply, setting the saddle back down.
“I hate this fucking thing,” Colby muttered, eyeing the four-wheeler like it had personally offended him.
“They have no soul,” I agreed, climbing onto one of the cold, unfeeling machines.
Colby glanced over at me. “You sure you wanna be a part of this?”
“Where else am I gonna be?” I replied. There was nowhere else. No escaping it. This was our burden to bear.
“I checked every manifest at every airstrip in the county,” Kayce said, jaw tight, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Nothing.”
“He got that plane from somewhere,” I countered, arms crossed. “We just have to find it.”
Dad nodded, his face lined with the weight of too many problems and not enough time to solve them. “You’ll be riding with Agent Hendon today,” he told Kayce. “He knows the job. Learn from him.”
Kayce exhaled sharply, his displeasure evident. He’d never been one to take orders well, especially from people he didn’t respect yet. “Y’all sure you don’t need help around here?”
“I got it covered,” I assured him, feeling a small sense of relief—if Kayce was out chasing leads, that meant Ryan was staying behind. It wasn’t the time to think about that, not with the stench of rotting cattle still thick in the air, but I couldn’t help it.
“Find the plane, son,” Dad instructed, his voice carrying the weight of command. “And if you find anything, don’t confront anyone. Call the sheriff for backup.”
We all knew that last part was wishful thinking. Kayce wasn’t the type to wait around when trouble presented itself. If he found the bastards responsible, backup or not, there was going to be a reckoning.
Kayce didn’t argue, but the look in his eyes told me he was already planning to do things his own way. With a nod, he turned and left, heading off to chase ghosts in the sky while we dealt with the nightmare rotting right in front of us.
“Sweetheart,” Dad called out to me, “ride out with Ryan on the Tracker. I’d rather you not go out there but I know there’s no stopping you.”
I gave him a nod. He was right; there was no stopping me. I was gonna do what I could to help this family, this ranch. Dad had to know that it meant something to me.
“Ok, Dad,” I responded. I loaded a few more containers of gas in the back of the Tracker and sat on the passenger's side.
“Hey,” Ryan said slipping behind the wheel.
“There’s no door on this thing so I took the liberty of climbing in myself,” I offered him a weak smile, “your gentleman card is still intact.”
Ryan smirked as he started the Tracker, the engine rumbling beneath us. “Good to know,” he said, glancing over at me. “Wouldn’t wanna lose my credentials.”
I let out a small breath of a laugh, but it didn’t last. The weight of what we were about to do pressed down on me again, threatening to suffocate any moment of lightness. Burning the field was the only option, but it felt like we were setting fire to more than just the land. It was a loss we’d have to swallow, another scar on a ranch already full of them.
Ryan must’ve noticed the shift in my mood because his expression softened. “You sure you wanna do this?” he asked. “I know you feel like you gotta, but—”
“There’s nowhere else I’d be,” I cut him off, looking out over the field. The sun was rising over the valley, golden light stretching across land that had been ours for generations. Land someone was trying to take from us, piece by piece. “This place is my home. My family. I have to do something.”
Ryan nodded, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Alright then, let’s get to work.”
The Tracker jolted forward, kicking up dust as we headed toward the field, the smell of gasoline already thick in the air.
The sun hung low in the sky by the time we finished, casting an orange glow over the field soaked in gasoline. The smell clung to everything—our clothes, our skin, the very air around us. The fire department stood by, hoses ready, river water already pumping to keep the flames contained.
Ryan’s voice was gentle but firm as he stepped closer. “Tie your hair back, baby.”
I met his eyes for a moment before nodding, pulling off my hat and setting it on the hood of the Tracker. My fingers worked quickly, twisting my hair into a knot at the base of my neck. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me, heavier than the heat that hadn’t even reached us yet.
As the first torch was lit, I pulled my bandana up over my nose, bracing myself for what came next.
I slipped my hand into Ryan’s, seeking something solid amidst the chaos. His fingers curled around mine, steady and sure. Together, we stood in silence, watching the flames consume the field, the fire crackling like a living thing as it devoured everything in its path. The heat licked at our skin, the smoke stung our eyes, but neither of us moved.
This wasn’t just grass turning to ash—it was loss, it was anger, it was a warning. And we stood there, hand in hand, as it all burned.
I didn’t care at the moment that my father was standing next to Rip, Lloyd, and the rest of the ranch hands just a few feet away. The world around me felt heavy, and the chaos of everything—the burning field, the threats on our doorstep—had all piled up, suffocating me. But in Ryan’s grasp, I found something that calmed the storm inside me. I needed this, needed him, just to feel that grounding connection.
His presence was a lifeline in the midst of the fire, and for a brief moment, nothing else mattered. Not the ranch, not the enemies, not even the past—it was just us, and I held onto that with everything I had.
—-
I sat at the table between my brothers, trying to focus on the meal in front of me, but the tension in the room was thick. The sound of Beth’s boots stomping on the hardwood floor announced her arrival before she even spoke.
“Even your walk is angry, honey,” Dad said, the comment light, but his eyes were sharp, knowing she wasn’t in a good mood.
“With good reason,” she responded, voice cold.
I shifted in my seat, looking at Kayce. “Did you get a chance to check the airfield in Deer Lodge while you were out yesterday?”
“Not yet,” Kayce said, his expression thoughtful. “But I’m starting to think that plane’s from another state.”
Jamie jumped in, “If I can get a warrant, we can check the flight logs out of the air traffic control in Bozeman. It’ll be a lot of data to sift through,” he glanced at me, “if you got time to help me, I can—”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about work at the dinner table,” Beth scoffed, cutting him off with her sharp tone.
“This is breakfast,” I muttered, my fork moving absently to my mouth. I chewed slowly, not caring to rise to the bait. The bacon was just crisp enough to ground me for a moment. “Whatever you need me to—”
“This is not a breakfast table, this is a dining room table. How do I know it’s a dining room table? Cause it’s in the fucking dining room,” Beth sneered, storming off before anyone could respond.
Dad sighed, his voice carrying the weight of years of patience. “Stop wasting your time, son,” he told Kayce, ignoring Beth’s latest outburst, his eyes narrowing. “Go to the source. I want him to know what we know.”
“You think that’s a good idea?” Jamie asked, eyeing Dad skeptically.
“If I didn’t think it was a good idea, I wouldn’t have suggested it,” Dad replied firmly, his tone brokering no argument. Jamie only nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. He was still on Dad’s shit list, trying his damnedest to work his way off it. It wasn’t easy, and I could see the frustration in Jamie’s jaw as he tried to bite back his annoyance.
“Wear your badge today, Kayce,” Dad added, the authority in his voice rising. “Take Ryan with you. Keep it official.”
Kayce shot me a look as Dad turned his attention elsewhere. I gave him a slight nod, signaling that I was on board with whatever he needed. He stood up, stretching out his back, and headed for the door to start his day.
“I hate when y’all do that shit,” Dad muttered, shaking his head as he watched Kayce leave.
I smirked, rolling my eyes. “You just don’t get it, Dad.”
“No, I get it,” he said, rubbing his temples. “It’s just… annoying. You two think you’re so clever with that silent communication shit.”
“It works,” I shot back, grinning. “You just have to be paying attention.”
“And you,” Dad’s gaze locked onto Jamie, sharp as a whip, “you’ve lost the right to question me for a while.”
Jamie opened his mouth to argue, but Dad was already turning, striding out of the room with his usual purposeful gait. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving a heavy silence in the wake of his departure.
Jamie let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes briefly meeting mine. “This is bullshit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand across his face.
I leaned back in my chair, not saying anything. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Jamie didn’t need my sympathy, but I knew this wasn’t easy for him. Hell, it wasn’t easy for any of us.
—--
Meeting with the new attorney general was definitely not how I wanted to spend my time, so I left that to Dad and Jamie. It wasn’t my fight to fight, and right now, I had other things on my mind.
I climbed into the cab of my truck, the seat feeling unfamiliar beneath me as I slid it forward. The worn leather groaned, settling into place as I adjusted myself. It felt strange, almost like the truck missed Ryan’s presence behind the wheel.
Pulling out of the ranch and heading toward town, I let the familiar rhythm of the drive calm my nerves. Shopping for Ryan’s new shirt was a simple distraction, and the photoshoot with Wrangler was business as usual. My sponsorship deal was one of the few things that felt grounded in a sea of chaos.
Despite everything that was happening with the ranch, the cattle, and Beth’s disastrous investment, I couldn’t help but think that every little bit of support would count. I wasn’t sure how much of my money Jamie intended to put into saving the ranch, but I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he was mulling over how or if he could funnel any of it into covering the losses.
The whole situation made me uneasy, but I couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t just about the money. It was about our family, our legacy. And right now, I wasn’t sure where I fit into that picture.
The photo studio had been styled to feel like a ranch house, and it was so familiar that I almost felt at home. The rustic vibes, the soft lighting—it could have been my own living room. There was a strange sense of ease in the midst of the chaos, as I was primped and prodded for the shoot. My hair was curled just right, makeup meticulously applied. When they were done, I almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me in the mirror.
I chuckled to myself. Honestly, it felt a bit ridiculous. Why bother with all the makeup when most of the shots were going to be focused on my backside?
“Drop your shirt off your shoulder and look back at me,” the photographer instructed, his voice authoritative but calm. I felt a flicker of discomfort but did as he asked.
“Tilt your chin up, look at me like you’re looking at your cowboy.”
I immediately thought of Ryan—his rugged smile, the way his eyes softened when he was looking at me. A small smile tugged at my lips as I pictured him in my mind.
“Perfect,” the photographer said, snapping away. He was pleased with the shot. Then he asked a few other models to join me, positioning them to capture the different styles of jeans we were showcasing. He took photos of us from the waist down, the camaraderie of the group lightening the mood a little.
Even though the shoot was just part of business, I couldn’t help but think how odd it was to be standing there, pretending to be someone else for the camera while my life was burning down in other ways.
“That’s a wrap,” the photographer called, snapping his camera one last time. “I’ll send you copies of the proofs for your approval to your email this afternoon.”
“Ok, thanks,” I replied, offering him a smile. The day had gone by faster than expected, though I was glad it was over. My truck was loaded with “free” samples—Wrangler jeans for everyone on the Yellowstone, along with a blue plaid button-up shirt that I knew would look perfect on Ryan. It saved me that extra trip to town for shopping, which was one less thing to worry about in the midst of everything else going on at the ranch.
I drove past the house, stopping at the bunkhouse. I wanted to see my cowboy in person. I liked thinking of Ryan as mine, even if we hadn’t slapped a label on whatever this was.
I pushed the door open and leaned inside. Damn, it always smelled like sweat, leather, and bad decisions in here.
"Think someone can give me a hand?" I called out. "I can’t carry all this in myself."
Colby scooted back from the table, eyeing me over like he couldn’t quite place what was different. "You look... different."
"What he meant to say was nice," Avery corrected, shooting him a look.
“What’s with the makeover?” Colby asked, crossing his arms.
“Long story,” I said, smirking. “But y’all get to reap the spoils of my labor.”
Colby, Jimmy, and Jake grabbed the boxes from my truck. Inside, I motioned toward the first one on the table. "That’s a box of women’s jeans," I told Avery. "Take your pick. Hopefully, one of those other boxes has a pair that’ll fit Jimmy.”
"Hey!" Jimmy protested. "I’m a perfectly average size!"
Colby snorted. "Buddy, you’re one growth spurt away from needing the kids' section."
Avery shook her head, already digging through the pile. "Thanks," she said. "You sure about all this?"
I shrugged. “Wrangler foots the bill, so unless you have some deep moral opposition to free stuff, go wild.”
Ryan finally walked in, spotting the blue plaid shirt in my hands, then glanced at me with a lazy grin.
“Hope that’s my replacement,” he said.
I held it up to his chest, nodding in approval. “Figured I owed you after the last one met an untimely death.”
He stepped closer, voice dropping low. “Gonna make me work for it?”
I smirked. “Always.”
Colby groaned. “I swear, if you two start making eyes at each other, I’m leaving.”
“Colby,” I shot him a grin, “I finally let you in my pants, and this is how you show gratitude?”
He barked out a laugh. “Well, hell, when you put it like that—”
Jimmy choked on his beer, slamming the bottle down as he coughed. “Christ, give a guy some warning before you drop shit like that.”
Avery smirked, sorting through the jeans. “I knew you had a favorite ranch hand.”
Ryan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His amused gaze flicked between me and Colby. “Should I be jealous?”
I snatched a pair of jeans from the pile and lobbed them at Colby’s chest. “Relax, cowboy. You’re the only one who gets in them.”
Colby caught them with a smirk, holding them up like a trophy. “Damn. Now these just feel sentimental.”
Ryan shook his head with a slow chuckle. “I swear, the things I put up with.”
I shot him a wink. “Yeah, but you love it.”
“Well, I do like the way you fill out those jeans,” he smirked, his gaze dragging over me with appreciation.
I turned around slowly, giving him a full view. “That so?”
His smirk deepened. “Mm-hmm.”
I glanced back at him over my shoulder. “Not gonna lie… getting these off might take some effort.” I tugged at the waistband for emphasis. “Might need a little help—if you’re game.”
Ryan pushed off the doorframe, closing the distance between us with that lazy, confident swagger. “Darlin’, I was born for this kind of work.”
“I’m glad you’re not opposed to a little overtime,” I teased, looking up at him. His Livestock Agent jacket was still on, his badge hanging from his neck, gun resting at his hip—looking every bit the cowboy lawman.
“Everything go alright with you and Kayce today?”
Ryan let out a small chuckle, pulling me closer. “Riding along with your brother is… interesting.”
I quirked a brow, knowing he wouldn’t spill details without a little encouragement—not that I minded encouraging him.
“This,” I murmured, letting my fingers graze over his badge, “looks good on you.”
"Y’all know we’re still in the room, right?" Jimmy chuckled.
"And?" I didn’t even bother looking away from Ryan.
"See? I told you—goo-goo eyes. Every damn time," Colby snickered.
Ryan smirked, finally glancing over at them. "One day, Colby, we’ll find you a girlfriend so you can make eyes at someone too."
"You wanna get changed and relax?" I slid my arms around his waist. "Then we can talk about your day."
Ryan smirked, his hands settling on my hips. "I was thinking about taking a shower…" He gave my ass a slow, deliberate squeeze. "But something distracted me."
"I hate distracting you," I murmured, my gaze locking with his.
His lips brushed my cheek, teasingly soft. "No, you don’t." He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. "But you could always join me—y'know, if you really wanna make it up to me."
"I do want to make it up to you," I murmured, letting my arms slowly slide from around his waist. "Go grab your stuff, and I'll meet you there."
I walked into the bunkhouse bathroom, eyeing my reflection in the mirror. Still me, just... a little more polished. I kicked off my boots and started unbuttoning my shirt, then my jeans. Honestly, I wasn’t joking about how much effort it took to peel these jeans off. They were tighter than I usually wore for riding, but I couldn't deny how Ryan looked at me when I wore them. Hell, who am I kidding? I loved the way Ryan looked at me, no matter what I was wearing.
"And here I was, hoping stripping those off of you would be my job," Ryan said, leaning in the doorway, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
I raised an eyebrow, teasing, "I could always put them back on if you'd prefer."
Ryan didn’t hesitate, crossing the room in three quick strides. "You better fucking not," he muttered, his lips crashing onto mine in a kiss.
I clung to his arms as he stripped the rest of my clothes away, his movements quick and efficient. We left a trail from the door to the shower. I'd worry about that later. Much later.
His hands smoothed over my thighs, and instinct had me wrapping my legs around his waist as we stepped into the shower. I held on to his shoulders, pressing myself against the wall as he kept me steady.
"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his lips trailing over my jaw.
“Ryan, please,” I groaned, the heat of his body searing into mine as I felt his thickness pressing against me.
He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from my neck. “Tell me what you want, baby,” his voice was low, thick with desire as he teased the sensitive skin near my pulse.
“I want you inside me,” I moaned, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
He didn’t hesitate, adjusting his grip on me as he lifted me slightly, shifting us both into the perfect angle. With a steady, purposeful thrust, he filled me completely, and I gasped, my body instinctively clinging to him.
His breath was ragged against my ear as he began to move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and steady, the heat between us building. My hands grasped at his shoulders for stability as his body rocked against mine, pushing me against the shower wall.
I arched my back, pulling him closer as each movement grew deeper. A wave of heat spread through me, tightening my grip on him. Every shift of his body seemed to intensify the sensation, and the world outside the shower faded away. All that mattered was the rhythm between us, the way our bodies connected with such raw urgency. My breath hitched, a gasp escaping as he adjusted, finding a new angle that sent me spiraling.
"Ryan," I cried out, barely able to breathe. He tightened his hold, his own rhythm steadying, and I surrendered to the feeling, lost in the moment.
Ryan let out a deep groan, his movements slowing as he reached the peak of our shared connection. We stayed locked together, breathing heavy, savoring the closeness. I clung to him, feeling the heat of our bodies pressed so tightly together. His forehead rested gently against mine, and his smile softened as he held me close.
"I just can't get enough of you," he murmured, his words a quiet, heartfelt confession that made my chest flutter.
“I’m yours,” I whispered, my legs barely holding me up, feeling the weight of the moment.
“Steady, baby,” he murmured, his hand catching my arm to steady me. “Can’t have you actually falling for me.”
“Who says I’m falling?” I shot back, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. As I turned away, I let the water hit my skin, its warmth soothing the tension from the day. But it didn’t compare to the heat of his chest against my back. Ryan’s arms slid around me, pulling me closer until I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.
“Careful, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, “You might convince me otherwise.”
I leaned into him, letting the water cascade over us, the quiet hum of the shower filling the space around us. I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my back, a rhythm that matched my own, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear.
"You know," I whispered, "I’m not sure who’s falling here."
“Baby, I already fell,” Ryan murmured, tightening his grip around me. “But let’s get you cleaned up before I start thinking about getting you dirty all over again.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his words, but my attention was immediately caught by his hand reaching for the bottle of 3-in-one body wash.
I wrinkled my nose as I glanced at the label. “We need to work on that. Products are sold in separate bottles for a reason.”
Ryan shrugged casually as he lathered up his hands, then started smoothing them over my back. “It does what I need it to.” He flashed me a mischievous grin, his fingers gently gliding across my skin, the scent of the body wash mixing with the warmth of the water.
I couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Well, I guess it is doing a good job then,” I teased, trying not to get too distracted by the way his hands moved so effortlessly over me. "But I swear, if I catch you using a 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash next time, I'm banning you from my shower."
Ryan laughed softly, his lips brushing against my neck as he leaned in. "Noted," he whispered, his hands sliding lower as he continued his work with the body wash. "But hey, multitasking—it's a skill, right?"
“You’ve got skills,” I said, relaxing into him as his hands continued their steady rhythm. “But the body wash has nothing to do with it.”
Ryan’s chuckle vibrated against my back, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. “Well, I guess I’ll have to work harder to prove you wrong then.” His hands moved a little lower, his touch purposeful yet gentle. “You’ve got me all figured out.”
I grinned, looking up at him over my shoulder. “I’m not trying to figure you out,” I teased. “I’m just enjoying the view.”
—
Dressed in one of Ryan’s oversized t-shirts—at this rate, I was sure he’d run out of them soon—I stepped out of the bathroom. The moment I emerged, every set of eyes in the room snapped to me. They didn’t need to say a word; they knew exactly what had been going on in there.
Avery grinned and shook her head. “Girl, you are loud.”
I shot her a playful wink. “He just knows what he’s doing, that’s all.”
Ryan stepped out of the bathroom behind me, and I could practically hear the collective thoughts of the room—silent, but undeniable.
I tucked my feet under me as I settled beside him on the couch, my phone clutched in my hand. I bit my lip, a little hesitant, before I glanced at Ryan. “Can I show you something? Promise you won’t laugh?”
Ryan gave me a playful smirk, one that made my heart skip a beat. “I can’t promise I won’t laugh, baby. Not until I see it.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. I opened the email from the photographer and scrolled through the images, my finger hovering over a few, debating whether or not to show him. I finally held my phone out toward him, the pictures of me in various poses on the screen. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”
“Baby, you look beautiful,” Ryan said, his voice low and sincere, “You always do.” He pointed at one of the photos—the sultry, off-the-shoulder shot. “Send me that one.”
I raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at my lips. “You want a picture of me on your phone?”
He shrugged, his smirk playful. “If you want to send me a pic of these,” he gave my breast a gentle squeeze over my shirt, “I wouldn’t mind either.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “You are such a man.”
Ryan leaned in closer, his lips brushing my ear. “I’m just being honest.”
I gave him a sideways glance. “But I might surprise you.”
I sent him the image, then casually scrolled to another—the one of me with the other girls, just waist down, showcasing the different jeans.
Ryan barely glanced at it before smirking. “That one is you.”
I arched a brow. “Oh yeah? And how exactly do you know that?”
He shot me a look like I was crazy for even asking. “Baby, you didn’t think I couldn’t pick your ass out of a lineup?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You might have a problem.”
“Nah,” he said, pulling me closer. “Just priorities.”
“That was my day,” I dropped my phone in my lap and leaned my head against his chest, “how was yours?”
“It was– strange,” he said, “handcuffs, the trunk of a car, Kayce almost tossing a guy off his balcony.”
“That’s a lot of words you just said without telling me anything,” I responded, “we can revisit the handcuff thing if you want…”
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “You get stuck on the wrong details, baby.”
I grinned up at him. “You’re the one who brought up handcuffs. What’d you expect?”
His hand slid lazily up and down my arm. “Well, now I know where your mind went. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Damn right, you’re not,” I smirked before nudging him. “But seriously, back up. Who was in the trunk of a car?”
“I was cuffed in the trunk of a car, well, the back of an SUV,” he said, “asshole didn’t ask me for the key.”
“I’m still not following,” I listened to his rambling retelling of his side of the story. They had confronted Jenkins.
“And the balcony?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Kayce didn’t actually throw him off. Just… dangled him a little.”
I lifted my head, eyes narrowing. “Define a little.”
Ryan hesitated, then finally admitted, “Feet were off the ground. Over the railing.”
I groaned, rubbing my temples. “And you didn’t stop him?”
“That’s why he didn’t get thrown off the balcony,” he answered, “And besides, you know your brother. Once he gets an idea in his head…”
I exhaled sharply. “Did you at least find anything useful today?”
Ryan gave me a look. “We found out that dangling a man off a balcony makes him real chatty. Jenkins doesn’t know shit about the cattle.”
I shook my head, laughing despite myself. “I swear, between you and my brother, I’m gonna have gray hair before I hit thirty.”
—--
Denim was just as ready as I to show off what we’d been working on. I wanted to get a little practice in before Travis and his crew arrived. Rip was raring to win a few dollars up against him.
I stopped outside the arena, watching Jimmy, of all people, practicing his reining. I had to watch this.
Leaning against the fence, I crossed my arms and smirked as Jimmy guided his horse through the pattern. He wasn’t bad—hell, he’d come a long way from the green kid who could barely stay in the saddle. But he still had that stiff, overly concentrated look, like he was afraid to breathe wrong and mess it all up.
I waited until he finished his rollback before calling out, “You sure you ain’t got a stick up your ass, Jimmy? ‘Cause you’re riding like you do.”
Jimmy nearly lost his seat at my voice, fumbling to keep control. “Damn it, don’t sneak up on me like that!”
I chuckled, resting a boot on the bottom rail. “Wasn’t sneakin’. Just trying to figure out what in the hell you’re tryin’ to do.”
“So, you just run down there and say, whoa, right?” he asked.
“I think there’s a little more to it than that,” Walker said sitting on a bench outside of the arena, ‘coaching’ Jimmy.
“You know how to do it?” Jimmy asked.
“Well, I ain’t gonna win no money doin’ it, but I don’t think you are either,” Walker replied.
“I’m a little thin on options,” Jimmy said. I chewed my lip; I couldn’t solve everyone’s problems. And men even green men like Jimmy wouldn’t want me just bailing them out of whatever mess they’d found themselves in.
“Just run down the area, point your belt buckle to the sky, keep your eyes on the top of the barn, open up your feet, and say ‘whoa.’” I told him.
Jimmy narrowed his eyes at me. “That sounds too simple.”
I smirked. “Ain’t my fault you complicate things.”
He muttered something under his breath before turning his horse toward the far end of the arena. I could see him psyching himself up, shoulders stiff, gripping the reins like his life depended on it.
Walker chuckled, shaking his head. “This is gonna be good.”
Jimmy took off, his horse moving at a decent clip, but instead of flowing with the momentum, Jimmy looked like he was bracing for impact the entire time. When he reached the spot, he threw his weight back, yanked the reins, and hollered, “WHOA!”
His horse skidded to a rough, choppy stop—more like a stutter step than a smooth slide—and Jimmy damn near toppled forward out of the saddle.
Walker let out a low whistle. “Well, you technically stopped.”
I leaned against the fence, biting back my laugh. “You were supposed to keep your ass in the saddle, Jimmy, not launch yourself into orbit.”
Jimmy groaned, rubbing his lower back. “Pretty sure I just compacted a few vertebrae.”
“Try again,” I said, adjusting my hat. “This time, loosen up. Your horse knows what to do—you just gotta let him.”
Jimmy shot me a look but turned his horse around, determination tightening his grip.
Walker leaned back on the bench, smirking. “How many tries before he gets it?”
I considered. “Depends how many times he’s willing to eat dirt before he listens.”
“Guess we’ll find out,” Walker drawled, watching as Jimmy took off again—stiffer than a damn board.
I lifted my eyes, catching the site of Ryan, Colby, and Jake riding in from the field. Likely preparing to join in on the festivities when Travis arrived. I might have let my eyes linger. But only for a minute.
I missed Jimmy’s first successful slide.
“There you go,” Walker cheered.
“Woo! I think I can do this,” Jimmy called over to Ryan and Colby, “You see that?”
“We seen you, Jimmy, looking just like Andrea Fupani,” Colby called back.
“Who?” he asked.
“He’s a champion reigner,” I told him.
Jimmy looked smug as hell, sitting a little taller in his saddle. “Damn right I am.”
Ryan smirked, riding up alongside me. “Should we tell him it’s Andrea Fappani or let him keep feeling like a big shot?”
I chuckled. “Let him have this moment. It ain’t often Jimmy gets to feel like a champion.”
Colby, never one to miss an opportunity, called out, “Hey, Jimmy, you planning on entering the next reining competition?”
Jimmy rubbed his chin like he was seriously considering it. “Maybe. If I keep this up, I might take home a belt buckle or two.”
Jake snorted. “Hell, if you win a belt buckle, I’ll let you wear it right across my forehead.”
“That a promise?” Jimmy grinned.
“Why don’t you stick to the friendly competitions before you start rodeoing,” I told him.
I turned back to Ryan, letting my gaze linger a little longer this time. He caught me looking and smirked. “Like what you see, baby?”
I tilted my head. “Just checking to see if you were sweating. Wouldn’t want you tuckered out before the real competition starts.”
He leaned in, his voice dropping just low enough for only me to hear. “Darlin’, I don’t wear out that easy.”
A shiver ran down my spine, but I played it cool. “Guess we’ll see about that.”
Music started playing in the arena as Travis and his cohorts gathered to show off their stuff. It was all beers, horses, and a good time. Maybe a friendly wager among them.
The first rider took off, slid to a stop.
“Hey Colby, how far was that one?” Travis called.
“About 25!”Colby called back.
“Damn you bring the sharks when you come here, Travis,” Rip chuckled.
“What are you talking about that’s just a God-fearing family from North Texas,” Travis responded.
“Of course they are,” I shook my head and smiled eyeing at least three fierce competitors from the circuit among the God-fearing family.
“Alright, fuck it,” Rip said riding off to take his shot.
“You want me to hold your beer?” I asked.
Rip shook his head and headed off to the end of the arena. His horse took off and slid to a stop. Not quite sliding as far as he hoped.
“Shit but I did it with a beer in my hand so that’s gotta count for something,” he called.
“That’s not gonna get it done,” Travis laughed as he headed to the end of the arena, his horse sliding at least thirty feet.
“You gonna give it a shot, Alex?” he asked.
“Sure, why not,” I smirked I nudged Denim’s side as we trotted to the end of the arena. I lengthened the reigns in my hand as he took off running. I circled the arena once as I stood in the saddle as we made our way our way back down I crouched down, maintaining my balance as I slid my horse to a stop.
“Now that’s just fucking showing off,” Travis shouted.
“Colby, how far was that?” I asked.
Colby gave an exaggerated whistle, squinting like he was taking real measurements. “I’d say ‘bout thirty-five feet—plus style points.”
Ryan chuckled from where he leaned against the fence. “Style points don’t count, baby.”
I flipped my hair over my shoulder and grinned. “Maybe not in competition, but they sure as hell count where it matters.”
Travis laughed, shaking his head. “Ain’t nobody here surprised you pulled a stunt like that.”
Rip groaned, taking a sip of his beer. “I don’t know why I even try with you.”
“Because you like losing to me?” I teased.
Rip huffed but didn’t argue.
Travis leaned on his saddle horn, eyeing me. “You ever get tired of running around Yellowstone, you let me know. I got a spot for you.”
I smirked, nudging Denim toward the fence where Ryan was standing. “I think I’ll stick around here for a while.”
Ryan reached out, brushing his fingers over my knee. “Good answer.”
Travis rolled his eyes. “Goddamn lovebirds. Someone else get out there before I lose my appetite.”
As if on cue, Jimmy rode in on his horse, looking way too confident for someone about to get his ass handed to him.
“Jimmy, come here,” Ryan called him over, waving him down like he was about to save his life. “I’ve been watching these guys, and I don’t know if you get to choose who you run against, but whatever you do—don’t go against him.” He pointed. “Or him.” Another point. “And under no circumstances, go against him.”
Jimmy scoffed. “You saw me slide this morning—I’m feeling kinda lucky.”
Ryan sighed. “You didn’t see what I saw.”
“The kid’s fucked,” Jake chuckled.
“Like a tied goat,” Ryan added.
I shook my head, biting back a laugh, really hoping it was a Jurassic Park reference and not some actual goat-related atrocity.
“Hey, you,” Travis called out, eyes locked on Jimmy. “What’s your name?”
Jimmy sat up a little straighter, his voice suddenly dropping an octave. “Jim.”
“Alright, Jimmy,” Travis smirked, “get over here, and let me explain the rules.”
Jimmy muttered, “Wish me luck,” before heading over.
“Sweetheart,” I called after him, shaking my head, “you’re gonna need more than luck.”
Travis rattled off the rules. “It’s a pay-up system. You come in last, you pay everyone that beats you. Second-to-last, you pay everyone but the bottom, and so on. Got it?”
Jimmy nodded, but the look on his face said he very much did not get it.
“You’re the new guy with the freshest horse,” Travis grinned. “You go first.”
I groaned in second-hand embarrassment as Jimmy trotted his horse off in the wrong direction before realizing his mistake and turning around.
“Alright, Jimmy, you got this!” I cheered, more hopeful than convinced.
Jimmy nudged his horse into a gallop. He reached the end of the arena, said whoa—and his horse slid to a stop. A very, very short stop.
“What’s that, about three, four feet?” Travis called, cackling. “I don’t think you even need to measure that one, Colby.”
The entire “God-fearing family” proceeded to smoke Jimmy, including the mom, who slid her horse at least fifteen feet longer than he did.
Jimmy slumped in his saddle. “I can’t play this game—I don’t have enough horse.”
Travis barely suppressed a grin. “Wanna trade?”
Before Jimmy could process his mistake, Travis swapped horses with him.
I sighed, already bracing for round two of this disaster.
Travis rode to the end of the arena on Jimmy’s horse, casually removing the bridle and reins before taking off like he had all the confidence in the world—which, to be fair, he did. With nothing but a shift of his weight and the sound of his voice, Jimmy’s own horse betrayed him, sliding a solid fifteen feet like it had been holding out on him this whole time.
Jimmy groaned, rubbing his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Meanwhile, Travis’ beast of a horse stood stock-still, unimpressed by Jimmy’s attempts to coax it forward.
“Come on,” Jimmy muttered, tugging at the reins. “Work with me here, big guy.”
Lloyd, watching from the sidelines, finally had enough. He hopped over the gate and strode toward Jimmy like a man with a purpose.
“Get off the damn horse, Jimmy,” Lloyd said, exasperated. “Before you hurt yourself, the horse, or both.”
Reluctantly, Jimmy swung down, muttering under his breath.
Travis, still grinning like a cat with a fresh bowl of cream, rode back over and slid off Jimmy’s horse. “Don’t worry,” he said, clapping Jimmy on the shoulder. “I’m not gonna take your money.”
Jimmy perked up. “Really?”
Travis shrugged. “Nah. Ripping you off wouldn’t even be fun.”
The entire bunkhouse roared with laughter. Jimmy just sighed, dragging a hand down his face.
“Next time, I’m picking my own competition.”
“Next time,” Ryan smirked, “pick a new hobby.”

Chapter Text

“Why’s Jamie walking around like someone just killed his dog?” I leaned against Beth’s doorframe, watching her prepare to take on the world.
“Well, little sister,” Beth began, her voice laced with bitterness, “the brother you think is so fucking perfect just sold our father out.”
“What do you mean? Jamie wouldn’t do that,” I responded quickly, trying to defend him. I knew Jamie was angry with Dad for pushing him out of political office, but this was different.
“You’ve always had your blinders on for him,” Beth snapped, her eyes narrowing. “Jamie did what Jamie always does—he put himself before this family.”
“He’s Dad’s lawyer,” I argued, shaking my head. “Anything he could’ve said would’ve been protected by what’s it called... confidentiality.”

“Jamie was smart enough to only share what wouldn’t get him disbarred,” Beth said, “not enough to start an inferno but he sure as fuck lit the match.”

I frowned, crossing my arms. “So what happens now?”
Beth smirked at me through the mirror, swiping on her lipstick like she was preparing for battle. “Now? Now, we make sure Jamie learns that being a turncoat doesn’t come without consequences.”
I exhaled sharply, glancing toward the hallway where I’d last seen Jamie slinking around like a kicked dog. “Beth, are we sure he really—”
“Yes.” She snapped the lipstick cap back on with a decisive click. “Don’t start making excuses for him.”
I wanted to argue, wanted to believe Jamie wasn’t as selfish as Beth made him out to be. But deep down, I knew better.
“Goddamn it,” I muttered.
Beth turned to face me fully, one perfectly sculpted brow arched. “Welcome to the party, little sister. Now, you wanna help me burn his world down, or you gonna keep standing in my doorway, looking like a lost puppy?”
“I’m not, I'm just not as eager to destroy him as you are,” I responded, “What did Dad say?”

“Dad is gonna let Jamie, Jamie his way out of it, like he always does,” she stared at me.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked.
Beth’s smirk widened, but there was no humor in it—just sharp, cold calculation. “Oh, don’t you worry, little sister. I’ll do what needs to be done.”
I sighed, shaking my head. “Beth—”
“No.” She cut me off, stepping forward until we were nearly toe to toe. “Don’t start with the ‘but he’s our brother’ bullshit. I’m fresh out of sympathy for Jamie. He made his bed.”
I studied her face, searching for even the smallest crack in her armor. But Beth was a fortress—walls high, gates locked, cannons already aimed.
“What do you want from me?” I asked finally.
Beth leaned in, lowering her voice to a near whisper. “I want you to open your damn eyes. Jamie isn’t who you want him to be. He never was.”
I swallowed hard, not because I didn’t believe her—but because a part of me already knew she was right.
—--

I couldn’t face my brother yet, I didn’t want to, I knew he would try to convince me he did it because he wanted to save the ranch. But deep down, I knew Jamie did it for Jamie.

Instead, I found myself heading toward the stables, seeking the kind of solace that only came from the steady rhythm of hooves against dirt and the quiet understanding of a horse that didn’t ask questions. Denim flicked his ears as I approached, sensing my mood before I even reached him.
“Hey, boy,” I murmured, running a hand down his strong neck. “At least I can count on you to be honest.”
He huffed softly, nudging at my pocket for treats. I gave a small chuckle, pulling out a sugar cube and letting him take it from my palm.
“You and me both, sweetheart,” a voice drawled from behind me.
I turned to find Rip leaning against the stall door, arms crossed, watching me the way he always did—like he could see straight through the walls I put up.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You came out here ‘cause you didn’t wanna hear whatever bullshit Jamie’s about to feed you?”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I just… I don’t have it in me to hear him lie to my face right now.”
Rip nodded, stepping inside the stall and resting a hand on Denim’s back. “Yeah, well, he’s got a talent for that.”
Silence settled between us for a moment, the sounds of the barn filling the space where words weren’t needed.
“What would you do?” I finally asked, glancing up at him. “If it were you?”
Rip exhaled slowly, considering. “If I were you? I’d stop wastin’ energy tryin’ to see somethin’ in Jamie that ain’t there. The man picks himself every time. Always has, always will.”
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at the truth of it. “And if he’s really done something that screws us all?”
Rip met my gaze, his voice low and firm. “Then you gotta decide, are you gonna be a Dutton—or are you gonna be Jamie’s sister?”
I never thought I’d have to be one or the other. But if I had to choose, one brother over the other, over my sister and our father. There wasn’t really a choice to make.

“When did you become so fucking wise?” I asked him. Almost seeing that wild teenage boy who came to the ranch a lifetime ago staring back at me.

“I’ve always been wise. You haven’t been paying attention,” he responded.
I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, that’s it. I just missed all your pearls of wisdom over the years.”
Rip smirked, but something was knowing in his gaze. “You always saw what you wanted to see, Alex. Even when we were kids.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe I had spent too much time trying to find something redeemable in Jamie when, deep down, I always knew he’d never put us first. That was the difference between him and the rest of us—he was born into this family, but he never really chose it.
I glanced back at Denim, running my hand down his nose, grounding myself in the familiar. “I don’t know how Dad lets it slide. How he can keep forgiving him.”
Rip’s jaw tightened. “Because deep down, your old man still wants to believe Jamie’s worth it. Just like you do.”
I let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the truth settle over me. “Not anymore.”
Rip gave a small nod, as if he’d been waiting for me to say it. “Good.”

It was just one word, but it felt like a shift—like something in me had settled. I wasn’t gonna be blind to who Jamie really was anymore. And if it ever came down to it, I knew exactly where I stood.
With my family. With the ones who chose the ranch, chose us, every damn time.
I felt a bit more at ease as I stepped out of the barn, spotting the blacksmith arriving to replace our horses' shoes. I knew better than to stick around—if I did, Denim would put on a show. The process didn’t hurt him, but my spoiled, rotten horse had a knack for dramatics, and he’d milk it for all it was worth if he thought it might get me to call it off.
I pulled my jacket tighter around me as the crisp Montana air bit at my skin. Leaning against the arena fence, I watched as Lloyd, Jimmy, and Jake gathered around one of the two-year-olds—one that hadn’t quite learned to tolerate a rider yet.
This should be interesting.
“When you do this at the rodeo,” Lloyd said, catching my attention. My ears perked up—that was my domain. “There ain’t no saddle, just you, your rigging, and the horse.”
And just like that, this went from interesting to potentially the worst idea Jimmy had ever had.
I’d been paying attention—Jimmy was strapped for cash. And while I had the means to help him, I knew better. It wasn’t my place to bail him out. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way.
Still, I chewed my lip, watching him, torn between letting him make his own mistakes and stepping in before this one left him broken.
Rip exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable as he watched Jimmy bask in his brief triumph.
“Eight seconds,” Jimmy repeated, practically beaming. “That’s a real score, right?”
“It’s something,” Rip replied, still unimpressed.
I bit the inside of my cheek, debating whether to be encouraging or realistic. Finally, I settled on, “Awesome. I know you got the brains for bronc riding.”
Jimmy, oblivious to the sarcasm, grinned wider.
Rip leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Why is he on that rank bastard?”
“He needs to earn some extra money,” Lloyd answered.
Rip sighed, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ.”
Jimmy, still high on adrenaline, had no idea he was making a deal with the devil—because rodeo didn’t just take your money. It took your time, your pride, and sometimes, the use of your damn legs.
“Hey Jimmy,” Rip called, “you know why you never met any old rodeo cowboys?” Jimmy gave him a look, “Cause there ain’t any.”
Jimmy laughed, but Rip didn’t.
That should’ve been his first clue.
Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head. “Hell, I was young and dumb once too.”
“You’re still dumb,” I teased, nudging his arm.
He smirked. “And you’re still mouthy.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t the one lettin’ Jimmy think he’s invincible,” I shot back, watching as Jimmy straightened up, still caught in the rush of his eight-second ride.
“I won’t die, I promise,” Jimmy insisted, full of that dangerous kind of confidence only rookies had.
Rip tilted his head, eyeing him in that way that made most men second-guess their entire life’s choices. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said flatly, then turned and walked off.
Jimmy might’ve thought he was getting into the rodeo for the money, but he was about to learn the hard way—bronc riding in the rodeo always cost more than it paid.
I couldn't judge Jimmy’s newfound passion too harshly—there were dangers in every sport. My father’s biggest worry when I was learning was that I’d fall and crack my neck. That fear didn’t stop me.
I’d hit the dirt more times than I could count, bruised ribs, twisted ankles, and once, a concussion that had me seeing double for two days. But quitting was never an option.
Jimmy had that same fire in his eyes, that reckless determination that made a person get back on the horse, no matter how many times they got thrown. I understood it. Hell, I respected it.
But rodeo had a way of humbling even the toughest riders. And something told me Jimmy was about to find that out the hard way.
I didn’t say anything as Lloyd took Jimmy to the fairground to try in a bucking chute. I stayed behind, watching Rip’s expression, which told me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t thrilled. He’d learned to live with my decision to rodeo—maybe, with time, he’d be okay with Jimmy’s too.
“Lloyd will take care of him,” I said, crossing my arms. “Just hope it’s enough.”
Rip exhaled through his nose, running a hand down the side of his horse. “Yeah,” he muttered.
There was a weight in his voice, something unspoken. He’d seen too many men get hurt, too many good cowboys take one bad fall that changed everything. Jimmy had heart, no doubt, but heart didn’t mean a damn thing when a bronc was twisting in midair, determined to put you in the dirt.
Still, I hoped Jimmy would prove him wrong.
I ran my hand down Rip’s horse’s face, letting him nuzzle into my jacket for the rest of my treats.
“Don’t go spoiling my horse too, he’s gotta work,” Rip chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah,” I ignored him.
Jamie walked up, his face twisted. I felt the old me tug wanting to help my brother out of whatever he’d gotten us into.
“What happened?” I asked. Jamie didn’t look at me. He stared at Rip.
“Jamie, what happened?” Rip asked. We followed Jamie to his SUV and he slowly opened the back. I blinked in horror at the dead woman who was lying in the back.
“I don’t know what happened– it just all went wrong,” Jamie was on the verge of tears. “What do we do?”
“We talk to your father,” Rip looked at me, I’d seen more than I should have. More than what I was supposed to be responsible for. But it was too late now. I knew the weight of this place, the bodies that were buried to keep it going. But knowing and seeing are two entirely different things.
“No, Rip, no,” Jamie pleaded clinging to Rip’s jacket.
“I don’t work for you,” Rip pushed Jamie away.
“Yeah,” Jamie held up his hand in surrender, “If you tell him, then he’s an accessory to murder.”
“What do you think you just made, her?” Rip cut his eyes to me and then back to Jamie.
“Right now, the only accountable person is me,” Jamie said, “We need to keep it that way. Rip, please. I’ve always treated you as a friend.”
I knelt on the ground, burying my face in my hands. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t have the energy to dedicate my tears to Jamie, not now.
Rip’s jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack. He looked at Jamie, then at me, then back at the body in the SUV.
“You don’t got friends, Jamie,” Rip said, his voice flat. “You got people who tolerate you.”
Jamie swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he dragged them through his hair. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t—”
“But it did,” I cut him off, finally looking up from where I’d buried my face in my hands. “And now it’s our problem.”
Rip let out a slow, measured breath. “I’ll handle it.”
Jamie looked like he might collapse in relief, but I wasn’t relieved. I was sick. The weight of this place had never felt heavier.
I pushed to my feet, staring at Jamie like I didn’t even know him anymore. “Tell me the truth,” I said quietly. “Did you do this?”
His head snapped up, eyes wild. “No! I swear to you, Alex, I didn’t mean to... But if we don’t do something—”
I shook my head. “You already did something, Jamie. That’s why we’re standing here.”
Rip turned to me. “Go inside.”
I hesitated, my stomach twisting, but I nodded. I didn’t need to see what came next.
As I walked back toward the house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that a line had just been crossed. Not for Jamie—he was already too far gone.
For me.
So, I did what I always did when the weight of this place got too damn heavy—I saddled up.
Denim could sense my mood, shifting beneath me as I led him out of the barn. The cool Montana night wrapped around me like a vice, but I welcomed it. I needed the silence, the space, the distance from the house where my brother was pacing, probably rehearsing his next lie.
I didn’t want to be under the same roof as Jamie. If I could arrange it, I didn’t want to be in the same fucking state. But that wasn’t an option.
Not yet.
So, I rode. Through the open fields, past the tree line where the stars stretched wide and far, into the places where no one could reach me. Denim’s hooves pounded against the earth, steady and sure, drowning out the storm in my head.
I didn’t know what scared me more—what Jamie had done, or the fact that I wasn’t sure if I could keep looking at him without seeing the body in the back of his SUV.
It was late when I got back in the barn. My head a little clearer. I knew Rip took care of it, like he takes care of all the ranch’s dirty work.
“What did you do with her?” I asked Rip when I got back to the barn.
“Don’t go poking your nose where it don’t belong,” he told me, “it didn’t happen, understand.”
I nodded, but I didn’t feel better about it.
“You gonna rat me out if I crash here tonight?” I nodded my head toward the bunkhouse.
“You should know by now, Alex,” he told me, “I always keep your secrets.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Rip always had a way of making things seem simple, even when they weren’t.
The weight in my chest didn’t lift, but at least out here, away from the house, away from Jamie, I could breathe.
“I appreciate it,” I said, meaning it.
Rip just gave me a look, the kind that said he understood more than I wanted him to. “Get some sleep,” he said gruffly, turning back to his horse.
I made my way to the bunkhouse, slipping inside quietly. A few of the guys were still up, playing cards, laughing like nothing was wrong in the world. Like there wasn’t a body buried somewhere on this land.
“Jimmy make it back from the rodeo?” I asked Ethan who was shuffling a deck of cards.
“They just pulled in a bit ago,” Ethan never one for many words. Cool and quiet. I guess he’d be more concerned if Jimmy didn’t make it back from the rodeo.
Jake rushed through the door, looking like he was about to explode. I guess that was literal.
“Ate too much chili at the rodeo,” he shoved past me and rushed into the bathroom. Sending Ryan and Colby rushing out, in their towels.
I wrinkled my nose as the bathroom door slammed shut behind Jake.
“Christ, Jake,” Ryan groaned, shaking his head as he ran a towel through his damp hair.
Colby looked downright traumatized. “I think my shower just got cut short.”
“You think?” Ryan shot back. “I barely got the soap out of my hair before he came barreling in like the damn rodeo bull.”
Ethan chuckled, still shuffling his cards. “That’s what he gets for eating fairground chili.”
I smirked, shaking my head. “That boy never learns.”
Just then, a muffled groan came from the bathroom.
I stayed put, sipping my beer, listening to the chaos unfold.
It was nice, for a moment, to pretend like this was the biggest problem of the night.
Jimmy and Lloyd strode in the door.
“You lived,” I gave him a smile, maybe Jimmy’s rodeo experience would lighten the dark mood I found myself in.
Jimmy strutted in, his chest puffed out, clearly riding high on the adrenaline of the night. “Hell yeah, I lived. And then some,” he said, flashing the gold buckle like it was the most prized possession he’d ever earned. He was practically glowing with pride.
“You won that?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. My voice was a mix of amusement and genuine surprise. He hadn’t exactly been the most graceful on that bucking horse earlier, but apparently, he had it in him when it counted.
“You better believe it,” Jimmy grinned, his voice laced with confidence.
Ryan gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up as he tossed his towel onto the nearby bed and started dressing, not even looking up from the task. His approval was casual but genuine. He had a way of making things feel effortless, even when they weren't.
I forced my eyes to stay on Jimmy, and not on my cowboy just feet away from me, wearing nothing but a towel.
“You can look if you want to, baby. Ain’t nothing you haven’t seen before,” Ryan chuckled.
“She ain’t seen my junk,” Colby said, “otherwise she might pick a whole new cowboy to cuddle up with.”
“I am trying to be a gentleman,” I called over to them, “your junk notwithstanding, I think I’ll take my chances and not be traumatized again tonight.”
Ryan shot me a smirk, clearly enjoying the banter. “You sure? Cause I’m more than happy to give you a front-row seat to the show,” he teased, leaning against the wall as if it were no big deal. His confidence was almost enough to make me crack a smile.
Colby chimed in, a grin on his face. “Come on, Alex, you know you’re curious.”
“Curious, sure. Traumatized? Not so much,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “I’ve got better things to focus on—like not getting distracted by your ridiculousness.”
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re no fun, sweetheart. You can’t handle this level of cowboy charm?”
“I can handle plenty, but I’ve already been around enough to know when to look, and when to save myself the headache,” I said with a smirk, narrowing my eyes playfully at the pair.
As if on cue, Jimmy stepped up, showing off that gold buckle again, bringing the focus back to him. “I think I’m gonna need a drink to celebrate this one,” he said, oblivious to the ongoing teasing.
“Atta boy,” Ryan nodded. “You earned it.”
I just shook my head with a smile. Maybe I had a lot on my mind, but a good laugh with these guys was the kind of distraction I needed right now.
“Where’s Avery?” Jimmy asked. “I wanna show her.”
“She left,” Ryan answered.
“Where to?” Jimmy asked again.
“Didn’t say,” Ryan responded, “Just grabbed her shit and left.”
“Guess being around y’all every day is enough to drive any sane woman away,” I said. I was disappointed by the news, if I were honest with myself. It was nice to have another woman around that wasn’t my sister. That kind of got it. That got me.
“And yet you’re still here,” Colby responded.
“Who said I was sane?”
Jake emerged from the bathroom, “I wouldn’t go in there for 10-15 minutes if I was y’all.”
“You’re even walking different,” Ryan remarked.
“He lost ten pounds,” Lloyd said.
I couldn’t help but snicker at the exchange, shaking my head as I leaned back in my seat.
“Seems like the chili didn’t just settle in your stomach, huh, Jake?” I teased, giving him a playful side-eye.
Jake gave a half-hearted shrug, his face already flushed from the embarrassment. “Tasted good at the time…” he muttered, clearly regretting it. “Should’ve known better.”
“Well, we’re all learning something new today,” Colby said with a grin, glancing between Jake and Ryan. “Next time, maybe don’t challenge the chili at the rodeo.”
Walker strode in picking up his saddle bag and guitar case, “Adios, assholes,” he said as he headed for the door.
“Jesus boys, looks like leaving this place is getting contagious, huh?” Colby commented.
I glanced up at Walker, I knew what I knew about the brand. “Where you headed?”
“Don’t know yet, Rip’s dropping me at the train station and I’ll figure it out from there. I’d like to say I’ll see you around, but I never want to see this place again,” he responded.
And just like that my stomach was in knots again.
I watched Walker leave, the sound of his boots fading as he walked out the door. There was a weird kind of finality in the air, a sense that this was it—that was the last time I’d see him, or maybe it just felt that way because I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn't sure why it hit me harder than I expected. Maybe it was the way he said it, like he'd finally given up on this place and all the ghosts that came with it.
I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, the weight of everything that had happened on the ranch pressing down on me. There were things I couldn’t share, burdens I couldn’t unload, and it was all getting to be too much.
I needed a distraction. My gaze automatically flicked over to Ryan as he slipped on his boxers, and I couldn’t help but smirk. "Damn, now that’s a show worth watching," I teased, trying to mask the tension inside me with humor.
Ryan glanced over at me with a knowing smile, clearly enjoying my attention. "You’re not shy about it, baby," he replied, his voice low and playful. There was always this spark between us, but today, it felt different.
“Maybe I just like what I see,” I shot back, my pulse quickening as I met his eyes. He slipped into a pair of old sweatpants, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Why don’t you come over here and take a closer look?” he smirked, his voice low, teasing.
I rolled my eyes, laughing softly as I stood up from my seat and started making my way to the corner of the bunkhouse. “Coby, your junk better be covered when I come over there,” I called over my shoulder, already anticipating his response.
He didn’t disappoint, chuckling under his breath. “I’m always fully covered, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t mind showing you a little more.”
“Two cowboy fantasy was not on my bingo card today,” I teased, my voice low as I stepped closer to Ryan, wrapping my arms around his waist. “But I like my hands full with this one.” I let my hands slide a little further down, feeling the warmth of his body under my touch.
Ryan smirked, his grip tightening around me as he leaned in closer. “You always know how to keep things interesting, don’t you?” His breath brushed against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
I met his eyes, the playful banter between us fading into something more electric, the tension hanging thick in the air. “I aim to please,” I replied, my smile never fading.
Ryan’s lips hovered just next to my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. “You staying?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.
“If you’re offering to share your bunk with me, cowboy,” I replied, my breath hitching as he pulled me tighter against him, the heat between us building.
“You’ve always got an open invitation, baby,” he murmured. I bit my lip, trying to lose myself in the feel of his lips on my skin.
I wanted to let Ryan help me forget what happened today with my brother, the body, what was likely happening to Walker now. But the thoughts wouldn’t go away.
Ryan felt the shift and locked his eyes with mine, “You ok?”
I shook my head, I was not OK, “Would you be ok if we just slept?”
Ryan’s hand gently cupped my cheek as he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His gaze softened, understanding the turmoil that was swirling in my mind. "We don’t have to do anything, Alex. Whatever you need."
“I just need you to hold me,” I said. Gently he guided me to the edge of the bunk and leaned down to help me off with my boots. I lifted my hips and slid my jeans off.
“Come here,” he said pulling me into his arms. His warmth was a comfort, and for a moment, I allowed myself to forget the chaos. His steady breathing beside me was soothing, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest reminded me that, for tonight at least, I didn’t have to face it all alone.
The quiet of the bunkhouse surrounded us, the weight of the day’s events lifting just a little as I drifted into sleep, safe in the presence of the one person who seemed to understand without needing words.
Ryan’s arms tightened around me, pulling me closer as if he could shield me from everything I was trying to escape. His steady presence was a balm, calming the storm inside me. The world outside faded, leaving only the quiet comfort of the bunkhouse and the soft rhythm of his breathing.
I nestled into him, my fingers tracing the lines of his chest, grounding myself in the moment. Everything felt a little more bearable with him here, and for once, I allowed myself to relax, even if just for tonight.
“Everything will be okay,” Ryan whispered, his voice low and soothing. I didn’t respond, but I didn’t need to. His words were a promise, one I could hold onto, if only for now.
As sleep finally began to pull me under, I let go of the worries that had gripped me all day. Tomorrow would come with its challenges, but for tonight, I was safe. And that was enough.

Chapter Text

The cool morning air nipped at my skin as I watched my father with a quiet intensity. There was always something in his movements that carried the weight of years spent in this unforgiving life—decisions made with the kind of certainty only time and hardship could forge. But there was a darkness too, a side of him I rarely saw up close. He carried it well, like a second skin, but I knew what it cost him.
I didn’t want to burden him with Jamie’s mess, not when he had enough on his plate already. He was a man who’d sacrificed more than anyone could understand to keep us standing. But Jamie had crossed a line, and I wasn’t sure there was any coming back from it.
“Hey,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. My father didn’t look up at first, focused on the saddle before him. But when he did, his eyes softened just slightly, the weight of everything pressing down in the space between us.
“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice rough but still laced with the kind of care I rarely let him show.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Just... thinking about things.”
He gave a short nod, as if he understood. He always did, even when I didn’t have the words to explain.
“I’ll handle it, Dad,” I added quietly, though I wasn’t sure if I meant the ranch, my brother, or the heavy secret I was carrying now. Either way, I knew it was mine to bear.
“Where you headed?” I asked.

“The only time I’m focused on the present is when I’m sitting in the saddle,” he said.

I understood that feeling too well.

“Enjoy your ride, Dad,” I offered a weak smile.

“You want some company?” Kayce offered.

“If you think you can keep up,” Dad responded.

“You mind keeping an eye on Tate?” Kayce asked. I nodded, watching as my father and Kayce rode off, their silhouettes blending into the early morning light. The quiet that followed felt heavier than it should have. I knew exactly where they were going, and I knew why. But I couldn’t bring myself to follow.
Some wounds never really healed.
Tate’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “You wanna play cards?” he asked, shuffling a deck in his small hands.
I forced a smile. “You hustling me already, kid?”
He grinned. “Dad says a man’s gotta know how to win at something.”
I chuckled, ruffling his hair. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got. But don’t cry when I take all your pocket change.”
For now, I’d focus on this. On Tate. On the one part of my family that wasn’t tangled in secrets and regret.
I was about twenty dollars down when I finally gave up. I may have underestimated my nephew, or I may have let him win.
“You wanna go watch Rip train some colts?” I asked. His face lit up and he rushed back out the front door, not waiting for me to catch up.
Shaking my head with a soft chuckle, I followed Tate outside, watching as he ran ahead toward the corral. His excitement was contagious, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the simplicity of it. No burdens, no secrets—just a kid eager to watch some horses work.
Rip was already in the round pen, a young colt trotting circles around him, ears flicking back and forth as he gauged his trainer. Tate climbed up onto the fence, leaning forward eagerly.
"Think I could do that one day?" he asked, eyes never leaving the horse.
Rip smirked, giving the lead rope a slight flick to change the colt’s direction. "You listen, learn, and don’t let your head get too big? Maybe."
Tate nodded like Rip had just given him the greatest wisdom in the world. I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this was what I needed—a morning spent watching horses and listening to my nephew dream big.
“Why are you doing it?” Tate asked.
“I wanna get all the shit outta his system so I can get on him,” Rip answered.
“You owe me a dollar,” Tate stated.
“I ain’t paying you a fucking dollar,” Rip snorted.
“So you don’t go ass over tea kettle?” Tate looked at me then back at Rip. Neither one of us wanted to coach the kid on his language.
“Exactly,” Rip said, bringing the colt’s face down so Tate could pet it.
Tate’s curiosity was endless, and Rip’s patience—while rough around the edges—was steady. Watching them, I couldn’t help but smile. Moments like this, simple and unspoken, were what made everything else worth it.
“You can add babysitting to my list of talents,” Rip called out to Kayce as he and our father rode back in from the pasture.
“I didn’t see that one coming,” I teased.
“Me neither,” Kayce admitted with a smirk.
Before either of us could say more, Tate stepped forward with all the confidence of a man twice his size. “Grandpa, I need to talk to you.”
Kayce raised a brow. “Do I need to be part of this conversation?”
“Nope. You ain’t got any money. I just won all of Aunt Alex’s, so it’s gotta be him,” Tate said matter-of-factly.
I chuckled, shaking my head as I looked at my brother. “Your son is a shark.”
“This oughta be good,” Kayce muttered as we watched Tate and our father walk off for their ‘man-to-man’ chat.
Rip leaned on the fence, watching them go. “You got a smart kid, Kayce.”
I smirked. “Must’ve got it from his mother.”
“Yeah, kinda figured,” Rip replied, deadpan.
A few moments later, Tate came jogging back, excitement written all over his face. “Daddy, you gotta train my horse!”
—-
I’d been avoiding Jamie for days. Every time we passed each other in the hall, my silence was colder than the Montana air outside. And he felt it.
“Alex, let me explain,” he muttered, desperation creeping into his voice. “Please.”
I’d always been the one to defend him—against our father, against Beth. But this time, I couldn’t make myself do it. He’d gone too far.
“I don’t want to hear it, Jamie.” My voice was firm, but the ache in my chest betrayed me. I hated seeing my brother like this, drowning in his own guilt. But I wasn’t ready to throw him a lifeline. Not yet.
Maybe I should have listened to him. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have let the despair consume him, wouldn’t have let it drive him to the edge.
“DAD!” My voice echoed through the house as my eyes locked onto the gun rack in the living room. One rifle was missing. My stomach dropped. “Where’s Jamie?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I tore out of the house, my boots barely hitting the porch before I was running full tilt toward the barn. My hands were shaking as I yanked the reins from one of the ranch hands, barely sparing him a glance. “I need this.”
I swung into the saddle, spurring the horse into a gallop before he could ask what the hell I was doing. I didn’t have time to explain. There was only one place Jamie would go.
The sound of hoofbeats behind me told me my father was right there, chasing the same ghost of hope I was. We had to get to Jamie before it was too late.
I saw him standing in the clearing. And dropped down to his knees. Rifle tucked under his chin.
I slowed my horse to a stop, easily I climbed down. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes as I watched my brother, who had been wallowing in what he had done with no one by his side.
I couldn’t lose another brother. I barely survived losing Lee—I wouldn’t survive this.
“Jamie?” My voice was barely above a whisper as I took a cautious step closer. “I’m not leaving. Please don’t make me watch you do this.”
His hands trembled around the rifle, his eyes hollow and lost.
“You know the thing about suicide,” Dad’s voice was rough behind me, steady but full of something I couldn’t quite name. “You don’t just kill yourself—you kill every memory everyone ever had of you.”
Tears burned at my eyes as I met Jamie’s. “This will be all I remember, Jamie. Not my way-too-serious older brother who taught me how to drive. Not the brother who drove me to my first rodeo, who helped me when I was too stubborn to ask. All of that will be gone. And I’ll be left with just this.”
“No one will mourn your loss, son,” Dad said, his voice like gravel. “Because this isn’t losing your life—it’s quitting it.”
Jamie let out a shaky breath. “I quit, Dad.”
“I won’t let you,” Dad shot back without hesitation.
Jamie’s jaw clenched, his eyes desperate and angry all at once. “Why not? What do you care?”
“Because it’s selfish!” Dad’s voice cracked like a whip in the cold air.
“This can’t be fixed,” Jamie whispered, his voice thick with pain. “I can’t be fixed.”
“You’re not beyond repair, Jamie,” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “None of us are.”
Dad took a step forward, softer now. “Your granddad used to say, ‘You can’t fix a broken wagon wheel, but you can use the parts to make a new one.’” He let out a breath. “I never should have sent you away. You needed more time here. I can give you that—I want to give you that.” His hand reached out, steady, patient. “But I need you to give me that rifle, son.”
Jamie’s breath shuddered as he hesitated. For a moment, I thought we’d lost him.
Then, finally, slowly, his fingers uncurled from the stock, and he placed the rifle in our father’s waiting hands.
—-
“This is silly,” Jamie muttered, stuffing the last of his things into a bag.
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “It’s what you need right now.”
He huffed, but he didn’t argue. “I don’t belong there.”
“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But you don’t belong alone, either.”
I grabbed my own duffle bag and followed him out, meeting Rip in the living room. We walked to the bunkhouse in silence, the quiet of the ranch settling around us like a heavy blanket.
Inside, it was a typical Tuesday—guys gathered around the table, playing cards, bullshitting like always. Rip led Jamie toward an empty bunk while I lingered near the doorway.
Colby’s gaze flicked to my bag. “You finally movin’ in here?”
“Something like that,” I smirked. “Maybe I can convince y’all to do something other than play cards for once.”
Lloyd’s eyes narrowed slightly, flicking between me and Jamie. He hadn’t set foot in the bunkhouse since we were kids, and everyone knew it.
Rip clapped a firm hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Lawyer’s gonna try his hand at cowboying.”
A few chuckles rumbled through the room. Jamie shifted uncomfortably, but I just gave him a look. You wanted a fresh start? Here’s your chance.
He exhaled and nodded, as if making peace with whatever came next.
“Y’all want us to deal you in?” Jake asked, shuffling the deck.
I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head with a smirk. “My nephew already cleaned me out once today,” I said, settling in next to Ryan. His hand found my thigh, warm and effortless, like it belonged there. “I don’t need to be swindled twice in one day.”
“I’ll play,” Jamie said, a little too eager, pulling out his wallet. “What’s the buy-in?”
He fumbled for a moment before producing a couple of crisp hundred-dollar bills. I barely held back a laugh. My out-of-touch brother was about to get a dose of reality.
“Whoa, we’re just working girls here, huh?” Colby chuckled, raising a brow at the sight of the big bills.
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a wad of reasonable-sized bills, handing them to Jamie before he embarrassed himself further.
“I’m not an ATM,” I teased, plucking one of his crisp hundreds from his fingers before he could protest. I grinned, folding it neatly between my fingers. “See? I’m already ahead fifty, and I’m not even playing.”
Jamie rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to settle in.
“What you mean, working girls?” Ethan asked, clearly confused.
“Well, I mean you shave your nuts,” Colby replied with a grin, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“No, you shave your nuts, bro,” Ryan chimed in, his tone playful but no less mocking.
“With your razor,” Colby shot back, giving Ryan a smug look. “Cause that’s what men do.”
I raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter as the banter went on. “Just how close are you two?” I quirked a brow, glancing between the two of them.
Ryan shot me a quick, amused look as I stood and moved toward the fridge. “Jamie?” I held up a beer, and he gave me a silent nod, accepting the drink.
As I popped the top and handed the beer to Jamie, the tension in the room seemed to ease, the lighthearted banter pulling us all back from the darker corners we’d been lingering in. I settled back in my seat, watching the guys place their bets, trying to gauge Jamie’s every move. I glanced at him, trying to read his expression, but it was hard to tell if he was bluffing. He had that poker face, and with him, it always felt like a game.
“I fold,” Jamie said, breaking the silence with a calm statement.
“You made the right decision,” Jimmy said with a small grin.
I met Jamie’s eyes across the table as he muttered, “I know.”
And in that moment, I realized something—he wasn’t just playing the game. He was fitting in. It wasn’t just the cards; it was the way he was starting to find his place here again, even if it was just for a night. The weight of the last few days still lingered, but this was a step toward something better. At least, I hoped it was.
“You all continue your game,” I said with a smile, pecking Ryan on the cheek before standing up. “I’m going to shower.”
He looked up at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I couldn’t resist adding, “Not an invitation.”
Ryan smirked. “Wasn’t even thinking about it.”
“Yes, you were,” I teased, giving him a wink as I turned toward the bathroom.
“Only because I’ll miss you terribly while you’re away,” he called after me, his tone playful.
I rolled my eyes with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”
I knew he would, but it was nice to leave him with a little something to think about.
I unpacked my hair products—shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, in separate bottles—lining them up on the ledge in the shower, shoving Ryan's 3-in-1 to the side with a shudder. No scents of Irish Spring or whatever that blue one was for me today. "Much better," I muttered, stepping under the warm spray. The warm vanilla lavender scent filled my nose and the stress of the day started to drain away, leaving me with the quiet of the moment.
Jamie was where he needed to be, and I was where I wanted to be.
After a quick shower, I slipped into my pajamas and headed back into the main room. But I froze at the door, hearing voices on the other side.
"So, you and my sister?" Jamie asked, his tone curious.
"About that..." Ryan replied, hesitation in his voice.
I knew I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but I couldn't help it.
"Ryan's got it bad for Alex," Colby said, teasing. "About falls off his horse every time she rides by."
"Not every time," Ryan chuckled, sounding embarrassed.
"So do you love her?" Jamie asked, the question heavy in the air.
I held my breath, not sure if I was ready for the answer.

I stood frozen just outside the door, my heart hammering faster than I cared to admit. My mind raced with possibilities, not sure if I was ready to hear the answer.
I heard Ryan shift in his seat, the soft creak of wood under his weight, followed by a quiet clearing of his throat.
"I... yeah. I do," he finally said, his voice low but steady. "I love her."
Jamie didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, I thought maybe he’d let it drop. But then, softer this time, he asked, "Does she know?"
I swallowed hard, warmth blooming in my chest alongside a vulnerability I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t know what I had been expecting, but this—hearing it out loud—was more than I was ready for.
"I think she does," Ryan answered, his tone gentle yet sure. "I think she’s known for a while now."
My breath caught, my heart skipping a beat. A smile tugged at my lips even though I remained hidden behind the door, taking in the weight of his words.
I took a steadying breath, willing myself to keep it together, then turned and stepped back into the room, slipping effortlessly into my usual seat at the table.
Keeping my expression neutral, I leaned back in my chair, letting my eyes sweep over the group before landing on Jamie. He knew. He could see it in my eyes. But he didn’t say a word.
"So," I said, breaking the moment with a smirk, "how much money did you swindle my brother out of?"
“I think your brother is holding out on us,” Ryan said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my temple. His voice dropped just for me as he murmured, “You smell nice.”
I fought the urge to melt right then and there, instead flashing a teasing smile. “I just couldn’t do another shower with Irish Spring.”
A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest, but I could feel the warmth creeping up my neck. His little gestures, his easy affection—it was all so effortless for him. And for me? It was getting harder and harder to pretend I wasn’t completely undone by him.
I sat on the edge of Ryan’s bunk, smoothing lotion over my arms and chest, feeling a little more at home here than I had before. The quiet hum of the bunkhouse, the familiar voices, the scent of leather and man—it was starting to feel like my place, too.
I could feel his eyes on me from across the room, the weight of his gaze lingering as I moved my hands over my skin.
“It’s your turn, man,” Colby chuckled, snapping Ryan out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. Then, with a smirk, he added, “But I’m winnin’.”
Ryan huffed, finally tearing his eyes away from me to toss his bet into the pot. “Yeah, yeah, keep dreamin’, Colby.”
I bit back a smile, pretending not to notice the way he kept stealing glances my way.
The game finally came to a close, and one by one, the hands settled into their bunks for the night. The bunkhouse dimmed, the quiet hum of conversation fading into the rustling of blankets and the occasional creak of the old wooden floor.
I glanced over at Jamie, watching as he shifted, trying to get comfortable in a bed that wasn’t his. He looked out of place, stiff and uncertain, like a man wearing boots a size too small.
“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
He nodded, though his expression was distant. “I’m just… figuring it out.”
I offered a small smile. “I know. You’ll get there.”
As I turned to leave him, his voice stopped me.
“Alex,” he hesitated, then sighed. “I’m sorry.”
I met his gaze, seeing the weight of everything he’d done—the regret, the shame, the hope that maybe I could let him back in. I wasn’t ready to forgive him. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time.
But I knew he needed something from me, some kind of acknowledgment that he wasn’t completely alone.
So I gave him a small nod. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was something. And for tonight, that had to be enough.
I tucked myself in next to Ryan, never even considering any other bunk. Beside him was where I wanted to be. His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me closer as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin.
“Just so we’re clear,” he murmured, his hand smoothing over my stomach, his smirk evident even in the dim light. “I’m not having sex with you while your brother is across the room.”
I smiled, shifting my hips slightly as I settled in. “I didn’t think you would.”
Ryan chuckled softly, pressing a lazy kiss just below my ear before settling in beside me. The warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, made it easier to push away the weight of the day.
“I love you, too,” I let myself say out loud.
“I know, baby,” he murmured.
“Will you two go to sleep,” Colby groaned from the upper bunk. “Some of us have to work in the morning.”
“Good night, Colby,” I said louder.
Ryan chuckled against my skin, his lips pressing one last kiss to my shoulder. “Good night, Colby,” he echoed, amusement lacing his voice.
Colby huffed from the top bunk. “Y’all are insufferable.”
I smiled, snuggling deeper into Ryan’s warmth. “Sweet dreams.”
Ryan’s breathing evened out, his grip on me loose but secure.
I felt at peace. Loved. Safe. And as sleep pulled me under, I knew I wouldn’t want to wake up anywhere else.
—--
I stepped out of the bunkhouse door, coffee in hand, watching as my father moved with quiet purpose. Kayce was finally home. Truly home. Monica and Tate were with him. Dad was settling into Lee’s old cabin—giving up the main house to my brother. It was his home now.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like the family was finding its way back together. The way it was always meant to be.
Ryan came up behind me, his arms slipping around my waist as he pressed a kiss to my temple. “You okay?”
I nodded, leaning into him. “Yeah. I think I am.”
I stared at Lee’s cabin, my father’s cabin, feeling a twinge of sadness. I missed him. His memory was etched into the land he fought and died to protect.
“Are you ready for him to know?” I asked. Everyone on the ranch knew about me and Ryan, everyone except my father. And now Jamie did, it was only a matter of time.
“Am I excited to tell your Dad, my boss, that I’ve been fucking his youngest daughter in almost every corner of his ranch?” I heard the smirk in his voice, “I don’t know how thrilled he’ll be to find that out.”
“I wasn’t suggesting we phrase it quite like that,” I told him.
Ryan chuckled, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Yeah, I figured.”
I sighed, my eyes still on the cabin, the weight of the conversation settling over me. “It’s not like he doesn’t already suspect something.”
“Oh, he definitely suspects,” Ryan muttered. “Man’s got eyes in the back of his head.”
That was the damn truth. My father always knew more than he let on.
“You think he’s gonna put me in the dirt?” Ryan asked, only half-joking.
I turned to face him, running my fingers over the scruff on his jaw. “If he was gonna, he’d have done it by now.”
Ryan huffed out a breath. “That’s not as reassuring as you think it is, baby.”
I smirked, tugging him down for a quick kiss. “Then maybe we should get it over with.”
“I think I have chores that need doing,” he said.
“Stall all you want, cowboy,” I told him, “but eventually we’ll have to tell him.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
The rumble of the truck hauling a horse trailer pulled me out of my thoughts. Rip and Kayce had taken Tate to pick up his horse. The kid’s face lit up as he rushed to the back eager to see his new best friend.
“Alex!” Tate called over to me, “Come see him. He’s perfect.”
“I’m coming,” I called back, I smiled at my cowboy, “Saved by a horse.”
Ryan let out a mock sigh of relief. “Damn, I owe that horse my life.”
I chuckled, squeezing his hand before heading toward Tate, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Kayce was already at the back of the trailer, unlatching the doors while Rip steadied the ramp. The second the gate swung open, Tate’s horse stepped forward, ears flicking as he took in his new surroundings.
“He’s beautiful, buddy,” I said, running a hand down the horse’s sleek neck. “What’d you decide to name him?”
Tate grinned up at me. “Lucky.”
I smiled, running a hand down the horse’s sleek neck. “Lucky, huh? That’s a damn fine name.”
Tate nodded enthusiastically. “Because I’m lucky to have him. And he’s lucky to have me.”
Kayce chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. “Can’t argue with that.”
Tate turned back to his horse, his excitement bubbling over. “Can I ride him now?”
Kayce shook his head, amused. “Let’s get him settled first, alright?”
Tate huffed but didn’t argue, already too busy admiring his new companion. I caught Rip’s eye, and he smirked. “Kid’s got the bug now. No turning back.”
I laughed softly, watching as Tate gently ran his hands along Lucky’s face. “Yeah,” I murmured, “looks like he was born for this.”
Dad barely acknowledged Jamie who had been unloading hay from the trailer when he emerged from the cabin to watch his grandson beam over the new horse. I saw the sadness in my brother’s eyes. This was the way Dad was helping him to get past everything. To build Jamie into a new man.
Kayce guided Lucky into the corral letting him lose to run around and get acclimated to the place.
“His whole life is in your hands, Tate,” I said, remembering the words my father said to me when he bought me my first horse, “how you treat him is how his life goes.” I caught the look of recollection in my father’s eyes and he smiled.
Tate nodded, taking in the weight of my words, the responsibility of a living creature now in his hands. “I’ll take care of him,” he said with a newfound determination in his voice.
Dad’s eyes softened as he watched his grandson, the stoic rancher in him momentarily giving way to something gentler. He gave a nod of approval, though it wasn’t much more than a subtle gesture.
Rip glanced between Jamie and Dad, a knowing look passing between them, but he didn’t say anything. The air was thick with unspoken thoughts, and I could feel the tension there, the way Jamie was still struggling to find his place again.
“Alright, Tate,” Rip lifted hay from the barrow, tossing it into the corral for the horse. “He’s a good horse. He’ll do good for you.”
—--
“We gotta go,” Kayce shouted into the bunkhouse at me, “grab whatever medical supplies you have and come on. It’s Beth.”

“Wait where’s Rip?” I asked as I gathered the supplies I had. It wasn’t much, and he didn’t tell me what happened but I gathered everything I had.
Kayce paused, having a soft conversation with Jimmy and Ryan. They followed behind. It was bad.
The urgency in Kayce's voice pushed me to move faster, my heart hammering in my chest as we sped down the dirt roads. The air seemed to thicken with every second, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something worse was waiting for us.
“What happened to her?” I asked, trying to get a clearer picture, but Kayce’s eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, lips tight with worry. He wasn’t in the mood for explanations.
All I knew was that Beth was in trouble, and if Rip wasn’t already there, then it was worse than we could imagine.
We pulled up in front of a scene that sent chills through my bones. Rip’s truck was already parked outside of her office, the door still open.
I rushed up the steps, Beth’s face was covered in blood. Her eye had already started to swell shut. Her clothes were torn. And three dead bodies were lying on the floor. One belonging to her assistant, Jason, the one who threw up in my grandmother’s rose bush. I didn’t know the other two, they wore masks.
I didn’t pause to ask questions, I knew what they did. Gently I brushed my sister’s hair away from her face as she trembled. My brave badass sister was terrified. Not because of what they did to her, but because Rip was sitting on her office couch with a bullet lodged in his stomach.
My heart skipped a beat as I took in the scene—Beth, her face pale and battered, and Rip, sitting writhing in pain on the couch, a dark stain spreading across his shirt. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. My hand trembled as I touched Beth’s shoulder, trying to steady myself and her.
“Beth?” I whispered, my voice barely breaking through the chaos. She barely responded, her eyes distant but filled with a fear I’d never seen in her before. I glanced at the bodies around her, the lifelessness of the scene settling in like a heavy weight on my chest.
“Beth, look at me,” I urged again, trying to pull her focus away from Rip’s condition, “we’re gonna get you both out of here, okay? We’re gonna get you safe.”
She looked up at me then, her eyes wide with desperation. “I couldn’t—” Her voice broke, and she had to swallow hard before continuing, “He’s... he’s bleeding bad, Alex.”
My father led the surgeon into the office to assess Rip’s injuries, and I felt a wave of relief knowing someone with real medical training was here. I stepped back, allowing the doctor to do his work, while I focused on Beth, keeping my hands steady as I cleaned her up.
“Nothing’s broken,” I reassured her softly, meeting her eyes as I gently wiped the blood from her skin. “But this is gonna sting.” I applied disinfectant to her wounds, watching her flinch but stay still. Silently, I thanked whoever was listening that she didn’t need stitches.
Beth winced but didn’t flinch away, her eyes never leaving mine. She was trying to hold it together, but I could see the strain in the tightness of her jaw and the way she clenched her fists. She didn’t need to say it, but I knew exactly what she was feeling—helpless, frustrated, and afraid.
"You're gonna be alright," I murmured as I continued to clean the cuts along her cheek and jaw. The blood was already starting to clot, but there was a bruise forming, dark and ugly. Her usual fierce, unstoppable self was hidden beneath the fear in her eyes. I could tell she wanted to ask about Rip, to get up and be by his side, but she didn’t. She was still processing what had just happened, her mind racing with what might come next.
As I finished applying the disinfectant, I wiped away the excess with a damp cloth. "You don’t have to talk about it now, Beth," I said softly, hoping to give her space to breathe. "But we’ll get through this, okay? We’re a team, and we’ve been through worse."
She nodded slowly, her gaze flickering toward Rip and the surgeon, who had started to move around him, checking his vitals. The tension in her shoulders hadn’t eased, and I knew the weight of everything happening was starting to sink in. She wanted to be strong, but even Beth couldn’t hold up the world on her own.
“If I can’t take him to the hospital,” the doctor said, “I’ll have to get him to my office. I need to cauterize these wounds.”
Dad gave a firm nod. “Thank you for this.”
“I don’t know how we keep this hidden, John,” the doctor warned.
“It’ll stay hidden,” my father replied with quiet certainty. I exchanged a glance with Kayce, who was already scanning the room, calculating how to erase every trace of the violence.
Ryan and Jimmy carefully lifted Rip from the couch, guiding him down the steps to the truck waiting outside.
“I wanna go with him,” Beth murmured, leaning on me for support.
“Beth…” Dad began, his voice tinged with concern.
“I wanna go with him,” she repeated, her tone unwavering.
Dad just nodded, not questioning her again.
I slipped my arm around my sister’s waist, guiding her down the steps. My hand instinctively tightened around her as we followed the guys to the truck. I helped her into the back, watching as they carefully lifted Rip into the passenger’s seat, his body limp from the pain.
Ryan’s eyes met mine for a brief moment. There was something in his gaze, an unspoken understanding. This wasn’t just about the danger they faced—it was about proving himself, showing my father that he could be trusted, that he would do whatever it took. Even if it meant putting everything on the line.
—
I groaned awake as the rays of dawn crept through the bunkhouse window. I shifted to let Ryan climb out of bed. I smiled as he brushed the hair away from my face.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
“I bet you say that to any woman who sleeps in your bunk,” I said back.
“True,” he responded, “but you’re the only woman I’ve had sleep in my bunk.”
I smiled at his words, feeling the warmth spread through me as he stood to start his day. His hand lingered for a moment on my shoulder, a silent promise that we were in this together, no matter the chaos of the day ahead.
"Sleep well?" he asked, looking at me with those deep, thoughtful eyes.
"Better with you here," I replied, knowing it was the truth. It had been a long time since I’d felt so at ease.
“Yeah, me too,” he pressed a soft kiss to my temple before making his way across the room. I couldn’t help but watch him walk away. Even in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, he stole my breath.
Kayce strode through the door, shaking his head at me before heading to Jamie’s corner of the bunkhouse.
“Come with me,” Kayce said to him. Jamie was lowman now. It wasn’t our idea, Dad insisted Jamie needed this to remake him into the man he should have always been.
I watched Kayce and Jamie leave the bunkhouse, my mind spinning with everything that had happened over the past few days. The weight of the decisions, the aftermath, and the way we were all shifting to fill in the gaps. It wasn’t just about the ranch anymore. It was about healing, finding the places where we could start fresh—even if it meant taking a step back.
I shook my head, trying to focus on the moment. Kayce was right to give Jamie this chance, and if anyone could push him, it was Kayce. But I couldn’t help feeling like we were all running in circles, trying to fix things that had already broken too far.
I pushed myself out of bed, and moved through the room, helping the guys pick up the remnants of the fun they had the night before. It was a quiet, easy task. Something that I could do to distract my mind.
“Alex,” Kayce called through the door, “Dad wants you at breakfast.”
I nodded, got dressed, and followed after him.
The walk to the house was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Kayce didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. There was something unspoken between us—understanding, maybe even a little bit of anticipation. Breakfast with Dad was never just breakfast. It usually meant a conversation was coming, one I wasn’t sure I was ready to have.
Monica and Tate were already seated at the table when I walked in, Monica’s chair now permanently beside Kayce’s. I made my way around the table, taking the seat next to Beth as she followed closely behind me. Her face was still bruised, her movements slow and deliberate, pain evident in the way she carried herself.
Monica glanced at Beth, then at me, but said nothing. The silence was heavy, but I didn’t press it.
“How you feeling?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
“Like I just spent a week at a fucking spa,” Beth muttered, attempting to take a bite of food but wincing at the effort.
She set her fork down with a sigh before calling out, “Hey, Gator?”
“Yeah, Miss Beth?”
“Would you mind making me a smoothie?”
“Of course. What kind?”
Beth barely missed a beat. “Two scoops of ice cream, three shots of vodka. Bring it to me on the porch, would ya?”
I followed my sister out to the front porch. Beth didn’t want my help, but she needed it. I settled into the chair beside hers, saying nothing. There were no words that could undo what had happened to her, no reassurance that could erase the damage.
“Kayce sent them a message loud and clear,” I finally said, my voice even but firm.
Beth didn’t respond, just stared out at the land, her fingers drumming idly against the arm of the chair.
A dark SUV rumbled up the driveway, slowing to a stop in front of the house. The chief of the Broken Rock Reservation stepped out from the backseat. If Dad had agreed to meet with him over this, then things were worse than I thought.
Another car pulled in behind the SUV, sleek and polished, looking out of place against the dust-covered trucks scattered around the ranch. Dan Jenkins emerged, straightening his jacket as he took in the scene.
I already knew how this would end. The men responsible for what happened to Beth weren’t just going to die—they were going to be made an example of.
And I should have felt something about that. Guilt. Hesitation. Even a shred of unease.
But I didn’t.
They had tried to break my sister. They had nearly shattered the strongest person I knew.
They deserved worse than death.
Jenkins' gaze lingered on Beth’s bruised face longer than he probably intended. For once, he looked uncomfortable, out of his depth.
“The Becks did that to you?” he asked.
Beth leaned back against the porch railing, arms crossed over her chest. “My face was just the appetizer.”
Jenkins swallowed, guilt flickering in his eyes. Beth had spent the better part of her time at the ranch trying to ruin this man, to make him pay for what he tried to take from our father. And yet, standing here now, she was the one who had suffered at the hands of someone worse.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking away.
Beth scoffed, a humorless smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “What doesn’t kill us, right?” She stood, stretching as if shaking off the weight of the conversation.
I met her eyes. “I don’t think it makes us stronger,” I murmured. “Harder, maybe, but not stronger.”
She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Hard is the goal.”
Jenkins gave a weak chuckle, shifting on his feet. “I don’t think you could get much harder.”
Beth just tilted her head, watching him, unblinking.
Unsettled, he cleared his throat and turned away, making his way to the clearing under the tree for his meeting with our father.
I gave Beth’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, “I’ve got to head out to babysit Jamie. OK?”
She shook her head, “I didn’t think it would take you long to forgive him.”
“I haven’t forgiven him,” I told her. “He almost killed himself.”
“If he’d finished the job, he would be doing us a favor,” she said.
“You don’t really mean that,” I said.
Beth scoffed, lighting a cigarette with steady hands despite the bruises marring her face. “Don’t I?”
I held her gaze, searching for something—some crack in the armor, some sign that she didn’t mean it. But Beth had always been good at building walls, and after what had been done to her, those walls were thicker than ever.
“He’s still our brother,” I said quietly.
She exhaled a plume of smoke, looking out over the land like she was searching for an answer in the horizon. “That used to mean something.”
I sighed, squeezing her shoulder one last time before stepping off the porch. “It still does.”
She didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree either.
And I wasn’t sure which answer would have made me feel worse.
My boots crunched against the gravel as I made my way to the barn, the familiar scent of hay, leather, and hard work filling the air. Inside, Jamie was knee-deep in the unglamorous part of ranch life—mucking stalls. His shirt was already streaked with dirt and sweat, a sight I never thought I’d see on my clean-cut brother.
As I leaned against the stall door, I watched him struggle with a particularly temperamental two-year-old. The young colt snorted, tossing his head in irritation as Jamie tried to usher him out of the stall to clean.
“Be careful,” I warned, crossing my arms. “He hasn’t warmed up to people yet.”
Jamie hesitated, glancing at me before cautiously stepping aside as the horse stomped its hooves, ears pinned back in warning. “You could’ve mentioned that before I stepped in here,” he muttered.
I smirked. “Figured you’d learn faster this way.”
Jamie exhaled sharply, wiping his brow. “Why do you work so hard for this?”
I frowned, not expecting the question. “It’s part of the job, Jamie. Someone has to do it.” I studied him for a beat, seeing the frustration etched into his face. “Hell, I never heard you complain when I was the one doing it.”
His grip on the rake tightened. “I just don’t get it. This life… all of this. You and Kayce, even Beth in her own way, you all bleed for this place. And Dad—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be what he wants me to be.”
I softened, leaning against the stall door. “You don’t have to be what he wants, Jamie. You just have to figure out who the hell you want to be.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond, just stared at the mess in front of him like it held some deeper meaning. Then, with a resigned sigh, he turned back to his work.
Maybe he’d figure it out. Maybe he wouldn’t.
But at least for now, he was trying.
—--
“You sure you don’t need help, baby?” Ryan quirked a brow, watching me wrestle with breakfast for the bunkhouse. Scrambled eggs and toast—this shouldn’t be hard. I’d watched Gator do it my whole life. Yet somehow, the eggs were sticking, the toast was… well, crispy, and the whole thing was quickly turning into a disaster.
I grabbed Ryan’s coffee, took a sip, and immediately wrinkled my nose before handing it back. “I think I can manage without giving anyone food poisoning.”
“You sure about that?” Colby asked, eyeing a piece of toast that had gone past golden brown and straight into burnt.
“In my defense,” I said, gesturing toward the outdated appliances and sad excuse for seasonings, “I’m working with limited resources.”
Ryan smirked, clearly amused. “Limited talent, too.”
I shot him a glare, scoffing as I plated the eggs—slightly overcooked, but still edible. “See if I ever do anything nice for you again.”
“I mean, your own brother would rather clean stalls and starve,” Colby chuckled, shaking his head as he pushed his plate away.
“My brother doesn’t have taste,” I shot back, crossing my arms.
“I’m starting to wish I didn’t have taste buds,” Jimmy muttered, eyeing his eggs like they might fight back.
“It can’t be that bad,” I said, grabbing a fork off the table. With a determined jab, I speared a bite of my overcooked, over-salted eggs and popped it into my mouth. Immediately, I regretted it. My face twisted as the overly seasoned mess hit my tongue. “Okay… you’re right. These are bad.”
Ryan smirked, watching me suffer. “Told ya.”
I swallowed hard, pushing my plate aside. “I can make you something else,” I offered, already standing.
“Please, don’t worry about it, baby,” Ryan said, his voice warm with amusement.
“It’ll be quick and easy,” I insisted, grabbing a box of cereal from the top of the fridge. I held it up like a peace offering. “Frosted Flakes or Cheerios?”
“Can I borrow a truck?” Jimmy asked, glancing around the bunkhouse.
“What for?” Lloyd leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes.
“Check should’ve cleared by now,” Jimmy said, shifting on his feet.
“Money burning a hole in your pocket?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“No, it’s for my grandpa,” he replied, a little defensive.
“Wait… Jimmy, can you even drive?” Colby asked, eyebrows raised.
Lloyd sighed, rubbing his temple. “Christ, you really are a gambling man,” Ryan muttered.
“You might be better off taking a bicycle,” Colby chuckled.
“I can put training wheels on it for you,” Jake added with a grin.
“Hardy har har,” Jimmy deadpanned, clearly unamused.
Ryan’s brow furrowed. “The fuck does that mean?”
“It’s a sarcastic laugh,” Jimmy muttered, shaking his head.
Before anyone could throw another jab, the door slammed behind Rip as he walked into the bunkhouse, his movements stiff and labored. His face was lined with pain as he struggled toward his bunk.
“You okay?” I asked, concern lacing my voice.
“No,” he gritted out, not even bothering to sugarcoat it.
That was enough of a cue for the guys to clear out, sensing it wasn’t the time for jokes.
“Stay away from the eggs,” Colby warned as he slipped out the door, earning a chuckle from the others as they filed out.
I left Rip to his misery, but I stayed close, keeping an eye on him while giving him the space he needed. In the meantime, I had my own mess to clean up—literally.
The kitchen was a disaster. Burnt toast sat abandoned on a plate, eggs that could double as rubber were stuck to the pan, and the smell of over-salted failure lingered in the air. With a sigh, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, scraping and scrubbing as I muttered under my breath.
“You try to do something nice…” I grumbled, rinsing out the pan.
Behind me, I heard Rip shift in his bunk, letting out a quiet groan. I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t the type to accept help unless it was forced on him, so I let him be.
At least until I finished salvaging the kitchen from my disastrous attempt at breakfast.

Chapter Text

I sat atop my horse, feeling the familiar shift of its muscles beneath me as I surveyed the land. The cold Montana air bit at my skin, seeping into the layers of my jacket, but I didn't mind. The chill was part of the work, part of the sacrifice. It was nothing new.
The hands moved with purpose, their focus unwavering as they prepared the field for winter. There was no room for hesitation, no time to waste. The herd depended on us. Without the right preparations, the weather would claim more than we could afford.
I kept my eyes on the men below, watching their movements, the way they worked together, the way they'd been trained. There was a rhythm to it, one that came with years of hard work. Every action, every decision counted.
I shifted in the saddle, taking in the sight of the ranch, the land stretching out in every direction. This place had a way of humbling you, reminding you that it didn’t care about your plans, your feelings. It was unforgiving, yet it was where we belonged. Where I belonged.
Colby shot me a smirk from across the field,. "You sure you don't wanna come down here and help us drive these fuckers in the ground?" he called out, gesturing to the posts they were setting.
I glanced down at him from my perch atop the horse, a playful smile tugging at my lips. "Don't want to risk breaking a nail," I shot back, making sure my voice carried over the wind.
Ryan let out a low chuckle, the sound a mix of amusement and admiration. "Smart move," he added, his tone teasing but warm.
Colby just rolled his eyes, clearly used to my banter. "Whatever, princess. We'll handle it up here," he called back, though I could see the smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Good, because this princess has more important things to do than get her hands dirty," I replied, feeling the rush of energy as I steered my horse to take a better view of the ranch below.
Kayce's gaze softened as he looked across the land, the wind catching his jacket as his horse shifted beneath him. "This used to make me sad when I was a kid," he said, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to linger in the air. "Preparing for winter."
I nodded, feeling the same sense of melancholy wash over me. "Sometimes," I admitted, "it still makes me sad."
Kayce looked over at our father, who was guiding his own horse a little ahead of us. "I remember you talking about what it was like taking care of this place," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Was it always like that for your dad? And his?"
Dad didn't pause as he answered, his voice steady and familiar. "And his before," he added, without missing a beat. "It's the one constant in life. You build something worth having, someone wants to take it away."
There was a heaviness in the silence that followed. We all knew what he meant. It wasn't just about the ranch, but everything we fought to hold on to. The land, the legacy, the people. It was a constant battle—one that never really ended. But it was ours to fight, and that, in itself, was something worth holding on to.
The cold Montana air bit at my face as I rode back to the ranch, the horse’s steady pace giving me a moment of quiet reflection. Kayce stayed behind to help the hands, his quiet nature fitting the rhythm of ranch life, always focused on getting the job done. I just wanted to warm up a bit, my fingers stiff from the cold.
When I arrived, the sight of Tate caught my attention. He was rushing across the yard, his boots crunching against the frost as he made a beeline for the corral. Lucky was waiting for him, his tail flicking in anticipation of breakfast.
Tate was so focused on getting his horse fed before he had to leave for school, a boy in his own world, still learning the ropes of ranch life while balancing the normalcy of being a kid. It was good to see him finding his rhythm here, even as the ranch grew more demanding by the day. I couldn't help but smile as I watched him work, determination in his step. It made the hard days worth it.
I nodded at Cowboy as I led my horse into the barn, giving him a quick glance. His weathered face was framed by the haze of smoke curling from the cigar in his mouth, and his posture was as laid-back as always.
"Morning, Cowboy," I said, my voice carrying the exhaustion from a long day already. "Glad to see you're back."
He gave a lazy salute with his cigar, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk. "You always know how to make a guy feel welcome, ma'am."
Jimmy grunted behind me as he hoisted a bail of hay from the trailer. Feed for the cattle that would have to last through the winter. Jamie stood at the end helping.
“Hey if you’re not gonna help us can you at least move outta the way?” Jimmy asked Cowboy. “Explain this dayworking thing to me. Cause it seems to me like you live here now, but you only work when we move cattle. And the cattle are all shipped out. So what you get paid to just do nothing?”
"That about sums it up," Cowboy replied, his tone nonchalant.
"Hey, Jamie, tell your dad I'm a day worker now," Jimmy said, tossing another bale of hay onto the pile.
"I think Dad just forgot you're still here," Jamie shot back, a teasing grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
"So, you all just gonna let him figure it out on his own?" Cowboy raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening.
"I'm not saying a word," I answered, shaking my head.
"It’s not my place to tell him anything," Jamie added with a shrug.
Cowboy gave a low chuckle, stretching as he leaned against the barn door, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Y’all are starting to sound like a damn sitcom," he said, his grin wide and lazy. "Guess I’ll just keep doing my job, then."
Jimmy shot him a side-eye as he set the bale down, hands on his hips. "Yeah, you do that. But it still doesn’t answer why you get paid to stand around and smoke all day."
Cowboy just shrugged, unfazed. "You get paid for what you’re worth, kid. I just happen to be worth a whole lot of standing around."
I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that Cowboy’s easy-going nature was exactly why he could get away with it. He was reliable when it mattered, and everyone knew it. But it didn’t mean I wouldn’t tease him about it when I got the chance.
Jimmy grumbled as he grabbed another bale. "Well, I guess I’ll just keep stacking hay, then."
Jamie watched from the corner, arms crossed. "If you’re complaining, you can always switch spots with Cowboy," he teased, a hint of a grin on his face.
"Ha ha, very funny," Jimmy shot back, turning to lift another bale.
The vehicle's siren cut through the quiet as it pulled up, a Sheriff’s Department car slowing to a stop.
“Jamie?” I motioned to the officer stepping out.
“Commander,” Jamie nodded, acknowledging him. “He’s up at the house.”
The officer shook his head. “I’m not here to see John. I’m looking for Jimmy Hurdstram.”
“What’s he being charged with?” My brother glanced from the officer to Jimmy, confusion creasing his brow.
“He’s not being charged with anything,” the officer said solemnly. “I need to speak to him, though.”
The two of them spoke quietly, their voices low, but Jimmy’s expression twisted, his fists clenching.
“What happened?” I asked, already feeling the tension in the air.
The officer gave me a grave look before heading back to his car. Jimmy was still muttering under his breath.
“They killed him,” Jimmy finally spat, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I paid, and they still killed him.”
I frowned, trying to make sense of the chaos. “What?” Jamie asked, voice laced with confusion.
“I fucking paid, and they still fucking killed him!” Jimmy yelled again, then bolted off, running in the direction of the barn.
“Rip!” I shouted as I saw him riding in from the field.
He pulled his horse to a stop, brows furrowed. “What is it, Alex? Somebody hurt?”
“I don’t know,” I said quickly, anxiety rising. “It’s Jimmy—something about his grandfather and money. He’s not making sense. He’s got a rifle, and I’m worried he’s gonna do something stupid.”
“I’ll handle it,” Rip said firmly, his voice steady but laced with the edge of authority.
“What are you gonna do?” I asked, fear rising in my chest.
“Don’t go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he snapped back, his tone cutting through the tension. It was that familiar, branded-man thing. Rip would do this for Jimmy, no questions asked, because of the bond that came with the brand. It was unspoken loyalty, and in this world, that meant something.
Kayce and Lloyd would get involved. They always did. And I knew that meant someone was going to pay the price. Someone would die for whatever mess Jimmy had gotten himself into.
I didn’t have to ask how it would end. I already knew.
—-
The weight of what was about to unfold hung heavy over the entire ranch. It wasn’t just the men involved—it was the whole bunkhouse, everyone who lived and worked there, who knew the cost of loyalty, of what it meant to get your hands dirty for family.
Ryan crossed the room, determination set in his shoulders. He stopped in front of Rip. “I need a word.”
Rip didn’t look up. “Now’s not the time.”
“I want to go with you,” Ryan said, his voice calm but firm.
I froze. My heart sank, a cold feeling creeping through me. It wasn’t surprising, I suppose. I’d known that one day, Ryan would get pulled into the darker parts of this life. His place here was already solid. He was family. But now, he wanted more. He wanted to be part of the undercurrent of the ranch—its blood and its violence.
He wanted the brand.
Rip studied him for a long moment before answering. “No, you don’t.”
But Ryan wasn’t backing down. He cut his eyes to me, then turned back to Rip. “I’m already in this place so deep.” His voice softened. “I can’t walk away.”
Rip stepped forward and patted his chest with a solid thud. “If you want in... it’s all the way in.”
“I know,” Ryan said. “I still want it.”
I felt the words in my chest like a punch. My eyes searched Ryan’s face, desperation clouding my voice. “Ryan?” I whispered. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know, baby.” He slipped his coat on, the decision already made in his eyes. “I want to.”
And just like that, he was gone.
I stood in the cold, watching the truck disappear down the dirt road, my heart heavy with what had just happened. Rip, Ryan, and the others—there was no turning back now.
The sound of hooves made me turn my head, and Tate came rushing into the barn, a bundle of hay clutched in his arms.
“I gotta feed my horse,” he said, already heading to the stall.
“I thought you might’ve forgotten,” I teased him, walking over. “Need some help?”
Tate paused, then nodded, the eagerness of youth lighting up his face. We made our way to the corral together, the ground crunching beneath our boots.
He tossed the hay into the trough and I smiled as he ran his hand down his horse's nose. His eyes were wide with admiration for the animal, full of that youthful wonder.
“Be careful,” I warned, knowing how easily that excitement could turn into something dangerous.
Tate didn’t look up, his focus entirely on the horse, but I could see the spark of determination in his eyes. He’d take care of this ranch, just like all of us had before him. Just like I had.
The world started to blur at the edges as Tate’s laughter became a distant sound, swallowed by the darkness creeping in. I hadn’t noticed them approach, not until that cold voice cut through the quiet, sharp and commanding.
The gun clicked, and every muscle in my body went stiff, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn’t even think.
“You make a fucking sound and I will shoot him.”
I could hear the chill in his voice, feel the certainty in it. He wasn’t playing games.
My eyes snapped to Tate, his face frozen in confusion. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath, but my voice was steady when I spoke, “What do you want?”
“What he loves the most.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. This was about my father. And fucking revenge.
"Move."
The second figure’s hand came down on me like a weight, the cloth pressed hard against my face. I didn’t even know what was happening before the sharp, sickly sweet smell hit my senses. Chloroform. I didn’t even have a chance to fight it, my body betraying me as I struggled. But the edges of my vision faded, the world slipping from my grasp like sand through my fingers.
Tate collapsed at my feet, and everything went black.
—--
I fought against the weight of unconsciousness, my head lolling to the side as I struggled to keep my grip on reality. Every blink felt heavier, every breath slower, but I refused to let go. I had to fight. If I couldn’t get us out of this, I had to at least leave something behind.
With what little strength I had, I tugged my glove off and let it slip from my fingers, barely hearing the soft thud as it hit the ground. My fingers brushed against Tate’s boot, and I forced my sluggish limbs to move, pulling it free and letting it drop. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A trail for Kayce.
The SUV rattled over the uneven road, the air thick with the smell of sweat and cigarettes.
"You were just supposed to get the boy," a gruff voice muttered from the front seat, irritation lacing his words.
"Well, bonus—we got ourselves a rodeo queen too," the man closest to me chuckled, his voice smug.
I fought the haze clouding my mind, forcing my lips to move. "Big mistake," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
He just laughed. "We'll see about that."
I tightened my grip on Tate’s little hand, my fingers trembling as I rested my other hand on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, strong. He was still breathing. That was all that mattered right now.
“Tate,” I whispered again, my voice hoarse. No response. He was out cold.
I didn’t know what these men wanted, if they planned to kill us—or worse. My mind flashed to Beth, to what they had done to her. The bruises on her face, the brokenness in her eyes. Rage burned in my chest, momentarily clearing the fog from my mind.
I couldn’t let them do that to Tate. I wouldn’t.
I forced my breathing to slow, my mind to sharpen. I had to think, had to find a way out of this. If I couldn’t fight, I had to outsmart them. I glanced down at Tate, squeezing his hand just a little tighter.
“I’ve got you, buddy,” I murmured, even if he couldn’t hear me. “I swear it.”
I felt myself pull under again.
When I woke I didn’t know where I was. It was dark. I’d been stripped down to my underwear. My wrists were bound together with a zip tie.
“Tate,” I murmured.
“You should be worried about yourself,” the voice spat at me, “we ain’t hurt the boy yet. If you be nice and do as you’re told, we won’t have to hurt him.”
A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold. My skin prickled at the vulnerability of being exposed, restrained, and at the mercy of these bastards. But fear wouldn’t save Tate. Fear wouldn’t get us out of this.
I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay steady. Think, Alex. Don’t give them what they want.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice hoarse, rough from the lingering effects of the chloroform.
The man chuckled, low and mean. “Now that’s the right question.”
I strained my ears, listening for any sound of Tate, for his breathing, his whimper, anything. But all I could hear was the slow, deliberate footsteps of my captor moving closer.
“You Duttons think you own everything. Think you can do whatever the hell you want. But it don’t work that way. See, power shifts, and right now? It sure as hell ain’t sittin’ with your daddy.”
He crouched beside me, the heat of his body radiating against my bare skin. I clenched my fists, the zip tie biting into my wrists. Keep him talking. Give Kayce time to find you.
“So this is about my father,” I said, tilting my chin up, keeping my expression blank. “And you’re using a kid to make your point?”
He grabbed my jaw, forcing my face toward his. His breath reeked of chewing tobacco and whiskey. “You don’t get to talk back, little cowgirl. You get to listen. And if you’re real good—real obedient—we might even let you both live.”
I met his eyes, refusing to flinch. I’d been raised by John Dutton. I knew men like him. Knew that the only way to survive this was to be smarter, stronger—meaner.
I just had to bide my time.
“Do whatever you want to me and get it over with,” I told him. My voice was steadier than I felt. I couldn’t show them I was afraid. Men like this get off on fear. I wouldn’t give it to him.
I recoiled as he ran his tongue over my face. His breath wreaked. I wanted to fight him back but if I did he’d go after Tate with worse.
“That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he sneered, his grip tightening on my jaw. His fingers dug into my skin, but I refused to let him see the revulsion twisting my stomach into knots.
I forced myself to go still, to think. My body screamed to fight, to claw at him, to rip his goddamn throat out—but Tate was still here. And as long as he was breathing, I had to be smart.
Footsteps echoed from somewhere behind us, heavy boots against concrete. The bastard in front of me stilled, his grip loosening just enough for me to jerk my head away.
“The boss wants a word with her,” the new voice said, bored, detached—like this was just another day’s work.
“Now?” My captor sounded irritated, maybe even disappointed.
“Now.”
He released me with a grunt, shoving me back hard enough that my shoulder slammed into the cold floor. My bound wrists made it impossible to catch myself, and pain shot up my arm. I bit down on a gasp, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
The second man hauled me up by my arm and started dragging me toward a door at the far end of the room. My heart pounded. This was the moment. Either I found a way to turn this around, or I’d never see my family again.
The boss, the man who had the guts to try and come after my father stood in front of me. A fucking fake cowboy in a suit with a bolo tie, loose around his neck. Big white wide-brimmed cowboy hat on top of his head. I could have bought three horses with the cost of his boots. This asshole was all boots, no cowboy. Not a real cowboy like my father, Kayce, Rip, or Ryan. He didn’t hold a candle to any of them.
This was Malcolm Beck. The man behind everything that had happened to my family over the last few months was just a fake as fuck wanna-be cowboy.
“I’m sorry to have dragged you in the middle of this Miss Dutton,” he said, “Truly. I had hoped your father would have heard the last warning we sent.”
“My father is going to kill you,” I told him.
“Maybe,” he smirked, “but not before we destroy you.”
I heard Tate scream from the other room.
“Leave him alone, you shrimp dick bastard,” I shouted. Earning myself a swift kick in the back of my knee causing me to fall to the floor.
“Dutton women sure do have mouths on them,” he snorted.
I hit the cold concrete hard, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. Pain radiated up my leg, but it was nothing compared to the rage burning through me. I lifted my head, leveling Malcolm Beck with a glare sharp enough to cut.
“You think you’re some big-shot, don’t you?” I spat. “Hiding behind hired guns, snatching up kids, trying to break women because you don’t have the balls to go after my father yourself?”
Malcolm chuckled, crouching down in front of me. He reached out like he was going to touch my face, but I jerked back before he could. His smirk widened.
“I don’t need to go after your father,” he said smoothly. “Not when I can go after the things he loves.”
Another scream tore through the air. Tate’s voice, high and terrified. My stomach clenched, bile rising in my throat.
I lunged at him. I didn’t think, didn’t care about the consequences—I just moved, aiming to rip his smug fucking face apart. But the second I did, a fist slammed into my ribs, knocking the air from my lungs.
I crumpled, gasping, my vision going white with pain.
“I admire your spirit,” Malcolm mused, standing again. “But spirit only gets you so far, sweetheart. You will break. Just like your sister did.”
I forced myself to look up at him, to push through the pain burning my insides.
“You have no idea what the fuck you just started,” I rasped.
Malcolm just smiled, adjusting his fancy hat before turning away.
I laid there, sucking in ragged breaths, knowing one thing for certain.
I wasn’t going to break.
And when I got out of here—when I got Tate out of here—Malcolm Beck was going to fucking wish he had killed me.
When I came to, the room was still dark, but the voices around me were clearer. Rough laughter, the shuffle of boots against the floor. The sharp scent of whiskey mixed with sweat and something worse—something rotten.
I didn’t move. Not at first. I needed a second to pull myself together, to get my bearings. My head throbbed where it had hit the concrete, a warm trickle of blood trailing down my temple. My wrists burned from the zip ties, pulled too tight.
“She ain’t dead, is she?” One of the men asked.
“Nah, just got a thick skull,” another answered, his voice closer. I felt the toe of a boot nudge my ribs, testing. “Wake up, cowgirl.”
I stayed limp.
“Think she’s playin’ possum?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Duttons don’t go down easy.”
The first man crouched next to me, close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath against my cheek. “That a fact, sweetheart?”
My stomach churned, rage pushing against the fear crawling up my spine. I kept my breaths slow and even, forcing my body to stay still. I needed them off guard. Needed one shot to take one of these bastards down and run.
The man’s fingers curled around my chin, forcing my head to the side.
“That’s alright,” he murmured. “We got all night to—”
I heard cars outside, saw flashing red and blue lights bouncing in the windows. Then the heavy thud of the door downstairs being forced open.
“You assholes are fucked,” I groaned.
A gunshot rang through the air.
The man next to me jerked back with a curse, and suddenly the room erupted into chaos. More gunfire. Shouts. The metallic scent of blood flooding my senses.
And then—
“Alex!”
Ryan.
I gasped, sucking in air as I forced myself upright. His voice was a lifeline, something solid to cling to in the madness. Through the haze, I saw movement, dark figures dropping one by one.
Gunshots. Boots stomping across the floor. And then, hands—familiar hands—ripping the zip tie from my wrists.
“Jesus Christ,” Ryan breathed, his face swimming into view. “Can you stand?”
“Tate,” I choked out, my throat raw.
I heard him scream and I felt my stomach drop.
“Kayce has him,” Ryan said. “He’s ok.”
Relief hit me so hard I almost collapsed. Ryan’s arms slid around me, the arms I’d looked to for comfort too many times, grounded me now.
“Come on, baby,” he said as he lifted me into his arms, “Let’s get you home.”
I shielded my eyes from the sun as we walked out of the abandoned house that kept me. Kayce looked at me as he held his son in his arms.
Kayce’s face was tight, his jaw clenched so hard I thought it might break. He held Tate close, the boy’s face buried in his father’s chest, tiny fingers curled into Kayce’s coat like a lifeline.
Ryan carried me past the bodies strewn across the floor, the aftermath of my family’s vengeance laid bare. The stench of gunpowder and blood clung to the air.
I pressed my face into Ryan’s shoulder, breathing him in instead. Leather, sweat, the faintest trace of the cologne he always wore. Something safe. Something mine.
I lifted my head. My brother’s eyes scanned me from head to toe, taking in every bruise, every scrape, the way I leaned into Ryan just to stay upright.
“I’m okay,” I whispered.
He didn’t believe me. Neither did I.
“Let’s go home,” Kayce murmured.
I clung to Ryan as he slid me into the truck. Rested my head on his shoulder as one of the officers draped a blanket around me. I’d forgotten that I was cold.
Ryan's arm curled around me, holding me close as if he could shield me from everything that had already happened. His jaw was tight, his free hand clenched into a fist on his knee. I could feel the tension radiating off him, the barely restrained fury simmering just beneath the surface.
The officer who handed me the blanket hesitated, like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Instead, he gave Kayce a nod before stepping away.
Tate was in the truck ahead of us, curled up in Kayce’s arms, silent but awake. My nephew—just a little boy—had been dragged into this nightmare, and no amount of whispered reassurances would erase what he’d been through.
I tightened the blanket around myself, sinking deeper into Ryan’s hold.
"I got you," he murmured, his lips pressing into my hair.
I closed my eyes and let myself believe it. Even if just for a moment.

Chapter Text

The days after my attack drug on. I was examined. I didn’t know for sure what they did to me when I was out. The bruising on my legs and thighs made them think the worst but I had to know for sure.

“Take these,” the nurse said as she handed me a cup with pills, “just in case it’s not conclusive.”

I didn’t need to ask what the pills were, I knew.
I stared down at the cup in my hands, the tiny white pills rattling against the plastic as my grip tightened. Just in case.
The words settled over me like a suffocating weight.
I didn’t know what happened when I was unconscious. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. The bruises, the foggy memories, the sick feeling in my gut—I had no answers, only the gnawing uncertainty that wouldn’t let me breathe.
I swallowed hard and forced my shaking fingers to close around the pills.
Outside, Ryan's boots continued their restless pacing, each step a reminder that he was waiting for me. That he hadn't left.
Would he still look at me the same if the worst had happened? Would he see me as broken?
I downed the pills.
“That man outside with your father, he your boyfriend?” the nurse asked, “We need to know if we find anything and he needs to be ruled out.”
I nodded and bit my lip, “but it’s been several days so I don’t think…”
The words died in my throat. I didn’t want to finish that thought. I didn’t want to say it out loud, to give it weight.
The nurse gave me a sympathetic nod, jotting something down on the chart. “We’ll do everything we can to get you answers, honey.”
I swallowed, my mouth dry. Answers. I wasn’t sure if I wanted them or if I was terrified of what they might be.
Outside, Ryan was still there. So was my father. I could hear his voice—low, clipped, controlled rage barely held in check. He was ready to burn the world down.
And Ryan…
I glanced toward the door. Would it change anything between us? Would he still look at me the way he always had?
I stared at the ceiling as they did the kit.
“No signs of penetration,” the doctor said. I felt a weight lifted off my chest.
“I want to go home now,” I stated.
“The police are here and need to ask some questions,” she said.
“I’m not answering any fucking questions, I want to go home now,” I said louder.
The doctor hesitated, exchanging a look with the nurse before nodding. “I’ll let them know.”
I sat up too fast, my head spinning, but I forced myself to move. I needed out of here. The sterile walls, the bright fluorescent lights, the quiet pity in everyone’s eyes—it was suffocating me.
The door cracked open, and Ryan stepped inside. His eyes met mine, searching, cautious, like he wasn’t sure if I wanted him near.
“I’m taking you home,” he said softly.
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Please.”
He helped me off the bed, his touch gentle like I might break. Maybe I would. Maybe I already had.
As we stepped into the hallway, my father pushed off the wall. His jaw was tight, eyes burning with barely restrained fury. He looked at me for a long moment before exhaling sharply and pulling me into a hug.
I stiffened at first, then melted into it, the smell of leather and dust and home grounding me.
“How’s Tate?” I asked, in all the whirlwind of everything, no one told me how he was.
“Tate’s gonna be ok, he’s at home with Monica,” Dad told me.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I said, “I couldn’t stop them. I tried but…” For the first time since I was taken, I started to cry.
Dad cupped the back of my head and held me tighter. “Ain’t nothing to be sorry for,” he said, his voice softer than I expected. “You did everything you could.”
I buried my face against his chest, my body shaking as the sobs came harder. I’d fought. I’d tried. But in the end, I still couldn’t stop them.
Ryan’s hand settled on my back, grounding me. “You kept Tate safe,” he reminded me. “You left a trail. You got us to you.”
I sniffled, pulling away slightly to look at my father. His eyes, usually hard, held something else now—something I hadn’t seen since I was a kid.
“I should’ve protected him better,” I whispered.
Dad shook his head. “That boy is alive because of you.” His thumb brushed a tear from my cheek.
I nodded wanting to believe him.
“They’re dead, honey,” my father told me, “you don’t have to worry about them again.”
“I told that asshole in the bolo tie you’d kill him,” I said. My father killed him. And let him die a slow death in a field.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you home,” he said.
Ryan’s arm stayed around me as Dad led us out of the hospital. The Montana air was cold, but I barely felt it. I was too numb, too drained. The weight of everything still sat heavy on my chest, but knowing they were dead—knowing my father made sure of it—gave me some peace.
I leaned into Ryan as we walked toward the truck. “You’re shaking, baby,” he murmured, pulling me closer.
I exhaled shakily. “I think I just wanna sleep for a week.”
“You can sleep all you want,” he promised. “I’ll be right there.”
Dad opened the truck door for me. “We’ll handle everything else. You just focus on getting better.”
I nodded, climbing inside. I wasn’t sure what better even looked like after this, but I knew one thing for sure.
I was going home.
—-
The sun was bright as we entered the gates of the Yellowstone. Dad helped me down from the truck and Ryan helped me up the porch steps. He stopped when he got to the door. Reluctantly releasing me.
“I need you with me,” I told him, “Please, stay. I can’t do this without you.”
Ryan looked from me to my father, not knowing what the right thing was.
“Come on, son,” my father told him, “you two have been making eyes at each other for years. You think there’s something going on on this ranch that I don’t know about?”
A flicker of surprise crossed Ryan’s face before he huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Guess the secret’s out then.”
Dad snorted. “Was never much of a secret.”
Ryan’s eyes met mine again, searching, making sure this was really what I wanted. I squeezed his hand. “Stay,” I whispered.
That was all it took.
He nodded, slipping his arm around my waist again, steadying me as we walked inside. The house smelled the same—wood smoke, leather, something faintly warm and familiar—but it didn’t feel the same.
Maybe it was me that didn’t feel the same.
I swallowed hard, my throat still raw, and let Ryan guide me to the couch. He sat beside me, his fingers brushing lightly over my knuckles. The silence stretched between us, thick with everything that had happened, everything we hadn’t said yet.
Dad cleared his throat. “I’ll let the others know you’re home.”
I barely nodded before he disappeared down the hall.
Ryan stayed quiet, just watching me, waiting.
“I don’t know how to be okay after this,” I admitted.
His grip on my hand tightened. “Then I’ll be here while you figure it out.”
I groaned as I tried to stand up.
“What do you need?” Ryan asked.
“A shower, I need to wash this whole fucking nightmare away,” I could still feel the stench of them clinging to my skin. My body groaned as I moved, “Can you help me upstairs?”
Ryan’s eyes softened, his worry evident as he stepped closer. “Of course, baby,” he said quietly, his hand reaching for mine.
He moved slowly, supporting me as I leaned into him, every step feeling like a battle. When we reached the stairs, he didn’t hesitate to scoop me up in his arms, his strength a solid comfort.
“Got you,” he murmured, holding me close as he ascended the stairs.
I buried my face into his chest, grateful for his warmth and presence, and the feeling of being safe again, even if it was just in this moment.
I swung the door of my bedroom open and stepped inside, closing it softly behind us. As the quiet settled around us, I couldn’t help but realize that this was the first time Ryan had ever been in my space. I’d spent countless hours in his, a place that felt like home to me, but this—my room—was different. It had always been mine, my refuge. And now, Ryan was here, his presence suddenly feeling larger than it ever had before.
“Well,” Ryan said, his voice filled with a teasing warmth as he glanced around the room. “I can see why you wanted to stay in the bunkhouse all this time, baby. Who needs all this space?”
I gave him a half-smile, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge, still trying to shake off the weight of the day. "Well, you were in the bunkhouse," I reminded him, a slight laugh escaping me as I leaned back. "So that’s where I wanted to be."
Ryan's smile softened, his eyes never leaving me. He took a few steps into the room, as if settling in, his boots soft against the wooden floor. "Yeah," he said quietly, "guess I should've figured that out sooner."
I watched him for a moment, noting how he seemed to fill the room without even trying. It was almost like I could breathe easier just having him here, like this space wasn’t just mine anymore—it felt like ours. And maybe, in a way, it always had been.
"You should've," I teased back, but there was an underlying tenderness in my voice, the kind that only seemed to surface when he was near.
Ryan met my gaze, his lips quirking up into a smile that made my heart do something funny in my chest. "You ready for that shower?" he asked, his voice dropping just low enough to make the words feel more intimate, more comforting.
"Yeah," I replied, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. "But only if you stay."
He stepped closer, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he reached out, his hand gently brushing mine. "I’m not going anywhere, baby," he murmured, leaning in just enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.
I nodded, feeling a quiet sense of peace settle over me, knowing that, for once, I didn’t have to carry the weight of everything on my own. "Good," I whispered back, as if everything in that moment depended on him being there, in this room, with me.
“Bathroom is through that door,” I told him, my voice softer now. I let him guide me through, feeling his presence steady behind me. The warm, comforting weight of him was like a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone anymore.
I leaned against the bathroom vanity, my eyes drawn to the reflection in the mirror. For the first time, I really saw the aftermath of everything—the bruises that had only been whispers in my mind, but now they were a vivid, painful reality. I winced as I reached down to tug my shirt up over my head, the motion pulling at the rawness of my skin.
The bruises stretched across my sides and back like dark purple rivers, some of them already fading, others fresh and angry. I hadn’t realized how bad it was until now. When I slipped off the hospital sweatpants, I caught sight of the bruising on my legs—deep, angry marks that ran like streaks of violence across my skin.
I stood there for a moment, breath catching in my throat. My hand lingered over the marks, almost as if I could erase them with just the touch of my fingers, but I couldn’t.
I met his eyes in the mirror. His gaze was soft but steady, unwavering. I felt his presence behind me like a protective shield, and it was enough to make me lean back, resting against his chest.
His arms came around me instinctively, the warmth of his body wrapping around mine, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“I’m with you, baby,” he whispered into my ear, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “Always.”
I nodded, the weight of his presence grounding me as he helped me undress. His movements were gentle, careful, as if afraid that any wrong move might cause me more pain. He slipped off his shirt and jeans, his body warm against mine as he guided me into the shower. The sound of the water rushing down around us was calming, a contrast to the storm inside my chest.
The heat of the water flowed over me like a shield, and I felt the tension in my muscles slowly begin to ease. But it was him—his steady hands, his presence—that truly brought me comfort. He stood behind me, holding me up, his touch soft but reassuring. I closed my eyes, letting the water cascade over my face, the warmth a small relief from the chill I’d been carrying for so long.
I could smell the mint and tea tree as he poured body wash into his hands, rubbing it between his palms before smoothing it over my skin. His touch was soothing, tender, and as he grazed his hands across my bruised body, I felt a ripple of warmth that had nothing to do with the water.
“Ok, this does smell better than mine,” he whispered softly, the hint of humor in his voice like a small, delicate thread tying us back to something normal.
I couldn’t help but smile, even though the bruises, the pain, were still there. His touch was like a balm, each stroke melting the tightness in my muscles, each careful movement a reminder that he was here—that we were here, together.
He worked his way across my shoulders, my back, tracing over the marks left by those men, as if trying to erase them with each touch. It didn’t take away the hurt, but it eased it, bit by bit. His hands were gentle. He wasn’t just washing away the dirt or the sweat; he was helping me wash away the weight of everything I’d been carrying.
I let myself simply be, trusting him to help me carry the burden, just as he had before, just as he always would.
He helped me wrap a towel around my body, his touch gentle as he guided me to the bed, ensuring I didn’t sway too much. My muscles were still sore, but the warmth of the shower had done wonders to settle some of the tension. He paused, looking around the room as I pointed to the dresser.
“Top drawer,” I said, my voice soft but teasing. “I’m giving you free rein to rummage through my panty drawer.” I started to laugh, but a sharp pain flared in my side, making me wince.
Ryan’s eyes softened, and he quickly grabbed a comfortable pair, carefully sliding them up my legs. His fingers lingered for a moment, and he murmured with a slight smirk, “This is the first time I’ve put them on you.”
“When I’m better, you can help me take them off again,” I whispered back, my voice laced with quiet confidence. My heart fluttered, even in the midst of everything that had happened. “Second drawer is pajamas,” I added, nodding toward the next drawer.
Ryan pulled out a t-shirt, his eyes flicking to the fabric. A grin tugged at his lips as he said, “I wondered what happened to that.”
I met his gaze with a small smile, “I was meaning to bring it back to you, but I liked having it.” There was a pause before I added, “I’ve got some of your sweats in there too if you want them.”
He chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar, and for a moment, it felt like everything could go back to normal. Like the world wasn’t so heavy.
“I think I’ll borrow them tonight,” he said, pulling me into his arms as he slid the shirt over my head. It wasn’t just the comfort of the clothes that mattered. It was the way he held me close, his body warm against mine. It was the safety in knowing that, no matter what had happened or what was still to come, I had him by my side.
I lay on the bed, watching him with a quiet intensity as he slipped the sweatpants over his hips. His hair was still damp from the shower, droplets trailing down his neck, and his chest—still unbranded—was a quiet reminder of everything unspoken between us.
I couldn't help myself. “I thought you?” I asked, my voice tentative as I met his eyes, searching for something in them. Something I didn't know I was looking for.
Ryan’s expression softened, and he shrugged as he climbed into the bed beside me. “There wasn’t time,” he said, his tone quiet, almost dismissive, but not in a way that closed me out. He just seemed to want to move past it.
I watched him settle beside me, and I felt a tightness in my chest. "You don’t have to prove yourself to them for me," I murmured, turning my body slightly toward him. My fingers brushed against his, and I gave him a look that said everything I couldn’t quite put into words. “If you do it, do it for you.”
Ryan’s eyes met mine, softening. He nodded, his fingers finding mine as he gave them a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispered, the weight of everything easing just a little as he spoke.
I didn’t know if I believed it yet, if he could truly separate the pressure of the brand from what he wanted, what we both wanted. But in that moment, with him here, beside me, I felt a little less alone in the storm.
—--
“You sure you want to ride out there today?” Ryan asked, “We’re just finishing up the new barn. Nothing too interesting.”
“I have to get out of this house,” I told him as I slipped into a pair of jeans, “I’ve been cooped up here for weeks.”
“I know but you’re still sore,” he said, “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“If you thought I couldn’t ride,” I slipped my arms around his waist, “You should have said something last night when I was riding you.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smile despite himself. "That’s completely different," he smirked, his hands resting on my hips as he leaned in, his face inches from mine. “I can’t have you out there working too hard.”
I could feel the heat of his breath, the teasing undercurrent in his voice, and I couldn’t help but laugh softly, brushing my fingers over the side of his face. “It’s just nails and wood, Ryan. I think I can handle that much.” I gave him a playful kiss on the cheek before stepping back to finish buttoning my jeans.
"You don't have to do this," he said, a hint of concern still in his eyes, but I could tell he was giving in to the inevitability of my determination.
“I know,” I said, my voice softening as I looked up at him. “But I need to feel like myself again. I’ve been stuck in this house, in my own head, for too long. I need to get my hands dirty. Besides," I added, a teasing glint in my eyes, "if I supervise, I might be able to make sure you’re doing it right after all."
Ryan exhaled through his nose in a half-laugh, half-sigh, but I could see the affection behind it. "You’re stubborn as hell,” he murmured, pulling me into a tight hug. “But you’ve always been like that.”
I nestled against his chest, feeling the strength in his arms, and the warmth between us that seemed to fight off the coldness that had been creeping into my bones the last few weeks. “And you love me anyway,” I whispered.
“Don’t think that means you get to manipulate me into giving in to you,” Ryan replied, his voice steady and protective.
“That’s exactly what that means,” I dipped my hands in his back pockets giving him a playful squeeze, “Come on, cowboy, stop fighting me on this. You’ll be there to keep an eye on me, make sure I don’t break a sweat or anything.”
He sighed, but his expression softened. "Fine," he said with a nod. "But I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second." He kissed the top of my head and gave me a last look of caution. "You still owe me a bit of pampering when this is all over, though."
I grinned up at him. “You know that sounds more like a reward for you, right?”
“Hey, I’ll take whatever I can get,” he smirked, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. “Let’s get to work, then. But I’m watching you every step of the way.”
I laughed, following him out the door. “You wouldn’t be anywhere else, cowboy.”
The breeze felt good against my skin, the sun warm on my face as I guided my horse. It felt freeing to be out here again, riding, even if I had to be cautious. I knew Ryan wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I overdid it. We reached the site of the new barn construction, and I reluctantly allowed him to help me down from my horse.
“You know, I only let you help me so I can have your hands on me,” I teased, giving him a sidelong glance.
Ryan grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I only help you because I get to put my hands on you,” he shot back, pulling me closer with a smirk.
“Are y’all done making goo-goo eyes at each other?” Colby called from inside the barn. “We could use some help in here.”
“All done,” I called back, chuckling as I started to help Ethan with a crossbeam, but Ryan beat me to it, swooping in with that confident ease he always had.
“So what’s wrong with the old barn?” Jimmy asked, leaning against a wooden post as he looked around.
“It’s seven miles from this half of the ranch,” Lloyd answered.
“Hey Lloyd,” Jake called from the back, “What was that joke about the two fat chicks and the wheelbarrows?”
“That wasn’t a joke, Jake,” Lloyd responded dryly, “that was you at the Cooper branding.”
The whole group erupted into laughter.
“I gotta joke, wanna hear it?” Jimmy asked, raising his hand.
“No,” the boys said in unison, barely pausing to look at him.
“Alright, check it out. There’s this big Texas oil guy, right? Goes into this bar down at the border,” Jimmy started, “sits next to this vaquero and says, ‘Hey man, you a rancher?’ The vaquero says, ‘Yeah, I got fifty acres down by the river.’ Big Texas oil guy says, ‘Oh, on my ranch, I can get in my truck in the morning, and I still won’t make it to the gate by sundown.’ Vaquero sits for a second, nods, and says, ‘Yeah man, I used to have a truck like that too.’”
I chuckled at that. It was stupid, but it was just the kind of small thing I needed to hear after everything. A ridiculous joke from a half-green kid.
“That was almost funny,” Colby teased, shaking his head.
“Alright, I got one,” Ryan said, stepping up to lean against a post, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Y’all hear about the guy that goes to see a doctor, and the doctor says, ‘Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you got cancer head to toe. One week to live.’ Man says, ‘A week?! That’s not enough time. What can I do doc?’ Doc thinks and he says, ‘I’ll tell you what to do: You go find yourself a barrel racer girl with two little dogs. And you marry her.’ And the man says, ‘That’s gonna make me live longer?’ And the Doc says, ‘No. But it’ll make that week seem like a fuckin’ eternity.’”
Everyone laughed, myself included, despite myself.
“Barrel racer girls?” I raised a brow at Ryan, feigning confusion. “What was that about barrel racer girls?”
Ryan just smirked and shook his head, looking me over. “Baby, you’re a trick rider, a whole different animal,” he replied, the playful tone matching my own.
“I think mine was funnier,” Jimmy said.
“Jimmy, when you’re all growed up and you’ve dated a woman, you’ll find it funny,” Colby laughed, throwing an arm over Jimmy’s shoulder as the rest of the crew snickered.
Rip called from outside the structure, his voice cutting through the air, “Alright, y’all, we’re done. Let’s head up to the big barn.”
I stepped out to find Kayce riding alongside Rip, looking as serious as ever. His eyes immediately flicked over to me, then to Ryan, suspicion written across his face. “I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy.”
Ryan gave a helpless shrug. “Hey, man, I tried to stop her. She twisted my arm.”
Kayce raised an eyebrow. “I doubt she had to do much twistin’.”
“I’m fine,” I interjected, brushing off his concern, “They didn’t let me carry anything heavy. Hell, they didn’t even let me use the hammer. I was ready to nail something.” I gave Ryan a pointed look, adding a playful edge to my voice.
Ryan, never one to miss an opportunity, smirked. “Well, since you’re offering…”
I shot him a glare, hands on my hips. “I’m supposed to be taking it easy, remember?”
Kayce just shook his head at the back-and-forth. “Y’all are impossible.”
“Lloyd, get those mules outta the field,” Rip barked, his voice carrying over the chatter of the group. “We’re running a spike camp this summer, understand?”
Lloyd gave a nod and turned to start rounding up the mules.
Jimmy, always quick to ask questions, raised his hand like a kid in class. “What’s a spike camp?”
Rip glanced over, eyes narrowing slightly but not unkindly. “Spike camp’s where we’ll set up outside in the field during summer. We’ll camp out there for a while, work on things that need done away from the ranch, keeping an eye on the cattle make sure they don’t find anything they shouldn’t eat out there.”
“Sounds like a pain,” Jimmy muttered, but there was a spark of excitement in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, it's part of the job,” Rip replied, his voice low and serious. “And it ain't just a pain. It’s a way to make sure the ranch keeps running smooth, even when we’re far from home. So you better get used to it, kid. This summer’s gonna be a long one.”
—-
I leaned back into the couch, letting the warmth of the fire and the comfortable chaos of the room wash over me. The tension from the past weeks started to melt away. The laughter and teasing, the way everyone just carried on like nothing had happened—maybe that’s what I needed. To be around people who didn’t treat me like a fragile thing. To be reminded that life kept moving, even when everything felt like it was frozen in time.
Ryan passed me the bottle with a grin, his eyes still burning with that spark of mischief. He was always the first to throw himself into the fun, to make sure everyone else was laughing. I took a sip, savoring the burn that spread through me. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.
Ryan spun around the branding iron, as Colby counted ten turns. Ryan took off running across the bunkhouse. A second later, he was on the floor, Colby’s lasso tight around his ankle, sending him crashing to the hardwood with a loud thud.
“Oh shit,” I looked down at him, “you ok, cowboy?”
He laughed, as Jimmy and Colby helped him up off the floor, “I’m alright. Though I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me and made it feel better.”
I wiggled my finger, “Well come here.” I smirked as he leaned in pressing his lips to mine, then plopped down on the couch beside me.
I couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned back into the couch, grinning like he’d just won a prize. The warmth of his kiss still lingered on my lips, a familiar feeling that had always grounded me, even when everything around us was chaos.
“Well, now I feel better,” he teased, his fingers gently brushing through my hair as he relaxed against the couch.
“You know, if I had known it would only take a kiss to fix you up, I’d have done it sooner,” I smirked, settling in next to him.
“Guess you’ll have to kiss me again just to be sure,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second of the playful banter.
“I might just do that,” I replied, letting my fingers trace along his jawline. “But only if you promise to stay out of trouble for the rest of the night.”
“No promises there,” he chuckled, kissing me again, the warmth of it still burning long after his lips pulled away.
“Jimmy, you’re up,” Lloyd chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement.
“Okay, okay, okay, hold on,” Jimmy grinned, taking a long swig from his beer bottle.
“You get bucked off shit for a living,” I teased, “This should be easy for you.”
“Take into consideration, you gotta have a brain to get it concussed,” Colby chimed in with a sly grin, “So you’ll be fine.”
Jimmy smirked. “Hey bro, just try not to rope my dick. Your mom’s gonna be pissed.”
Colby’s face went stone cold. No humor there.
Ryan laughed, leaning back. “That’s funny.”
Colby growled, “Give me the damn rope.”
With that, Jimmy went tumbling to the floor in a heap, still grinning as he landed. “Your mom’s gonna be really pissed.”
“Alright, pretty boy, you’re up,” Jake called out to Jamie, a challenge in his voice.
“I’m good,” Jamie said flatly, shaking his head.
“You’re good?” Ryan raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips.
I leaned back, crossing my arms. “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to. Don’t succumb to peer pressure, Jamie.”
“Come on, Jamie,” Colby pushed, “You gotta pay your dues.”
Jamie hesitated for a second, then stood up from the bunk. Grabbing the bottle from Ryan’s hand, he took a long drink. “I really don’t get the point of this, but alright, let’s do it. On three, right?”
On three, Jamie spun and ran, but his foot caught on the floor, throwing him off balance. Ryan swung the rope, and with a perfect arc, it snaked around Jamie’s torso, sending him crashing to the floor with a thud.
I jumped to my feet, rushing to Jamie’s side. “You okay?”
Ryan immediately knelt beside him, his face full of concern. “I tried to get it around his waist so he wouldn’t go down too hard,” he said, defensively.
“Well, you sure fucked that up,” Lloyd retorted, quickly checking Jamie’s head for any injuries.
Ryan’s face tightened. “Is he alright?”
Jamie shook his head, then let out a laugh. “Damn, that was worse than I thought. When’s it my turn with the rope?”
The bunkhouse erupted in laughter, the tension easing with every chuckle.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rip’s voice sliced through the air, sharp and annoyed. “And why the hell are you still awake?”
“Is it late?” Jimmy asked, squinting at the clock as if he had no idea.
“It’s 3:30 in the morning,” Rip spat, “Get a fucking watch.”
—-
Ryan watched me saddle my horse, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You can always come out later. We’ll be out there all summer.”
I tossed him a playful look, fastening the cinch. “And let you have all the fun?” I gave him a sly smile. “It’s camping, Ryan. Nothing too strenuous.”
I met his gaze from atop my horse, raising an eyebrow. “At least not until you join me in my tent.”
His expression shifted, that familiar spark of mischief lighting up his eyes. “Oh, you do make a good point.”
“Stick that horse back in the barn,” Dad ordered, his voice gruff as he gestured toward Jamie. “And move your gear out of the bunkhouse.”
Jamie raised an eyebrow, “Where to?”
“To the lodge,” Dad replied, not missing a beat. “I can’t have the new livestock commissioner living in the bunkhouse.”
I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. Jamie had finally proven to Dad, and himself, that he was back on solid ground. It was good to see him take that next step, the one that made him feel like he truly belonged again.
Kayce rode ahead with the wranglers, his pace quick and steady, keeping the crew in line. To keep everyone content, I stuck with the slower pace alongside Lloyd and the wagon with my father. Tate, eager as ever, climbed into the shotgun seat, giving me a nod as he settled in. I returned the gesture, appreciating the quiet bond we shared. It was rare that we all felt so at ease, but in that moment, the world felt a little more like it used to be.
I tied off my horse, my gaze drifting toward Ryan as he set up my tent. A slow smile tugged at my lips as I watched the flex of his arms, the easy strength in the way he worked.
“I noticed you pitched my tent on the opposite side of camp from my father’s,” I mused, tilting my head.
Ryan smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “Your dad may know about us, baby,” he said, driving the last stake into the ground, “but knowing and knowing are two different things.”
“Glad you cleared that up,” I gave him a look, as grabbed my bedroll and his and carried them inside the tent.
“What I mean is,” he ducked inside the tent with me, pulling me close, smirking as he whispered in my ear, “I don’t think you’d want him to hear all the noises you make when I buried inside you.”
I arched a brow, feigning innocence as I spread out the bedrolls. “Oh? And what noises would those be?”
Ryan chuckled, the sound low and rough as he crowded me against the tent wall, his hands settling on my hips. “You know exactly which ones,” he murmured, his lips grazing my ear.
Heat curled in my stomach, but I bit back a smirk. “You seem awfully confident, cowboy.”
He brushed a slow, teasing kiss along my jaw. “Let’s just say I’ve got a pretty damn good memory.” His grip tightened just enough to make me feel it. “And if you’re real quiet, maybe we won’t wake the whole camp.”
I hummed, letting my fingers trail up his chest. “Or maybe I want to see just how good you are at keeping me quiet.”
“I have my ways,” he murmured against my skin, “but I do enjoy all the noises you make. Especially the way you say my name when you’re about to cum.”
My arms slipped up and around his neck, my body pressed fully against his, “I thought you might like that.”
“Ryan!” Colby’s voice cut through the building tension, “come on man we gotta finish setting up the rest of camp.”
“Go to work, cowboy,” I told him, “You can make me call out your name tonight.”
Ryan groaned, pressing his forehead against mine for a brief second before stepping back. His hands lingered at my waist, reluctant to let me go. “You’re killin’ me, baby,” he muttered.
I smirked, reaching up to adjust the collar of his shirt. “Consider it motivation.”
He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“Always,” I winked.
Colby’s impatient voice rang out again. “Ryan! Move your ass!”
Ryan rolled his eyes, pressing one last lingering kiss to my lips before pulling away. “Tonight,” he promised, his voice thick with intent.
I watched him walk off, the easy swagger in his step making my stomach tighten with anticipation. Smirking to myself, I settled into the tent, already counting down the hours until sundown.
While Ryan, Colby, and the others worked on setting up camp, I focused on making our tent as comfortable as possible. Just because we were roughing it didn’t mean we had to suffer. I spread out the thick bedrolls, layering them with extra fluffy blankets and pillows—summer or not, I wasn’t about to let a stray rock ruin the mood. Comfort was key, and a little effort went a long way, especially when the night stretched long and the company was as enticing as Ryan.
After smoothing out the blankets, I stepped outside and unfolded a two-seater camp chair, positioning it close to the campfire but far enough for a little privacy. The thought of curling up with Ryan under the open sky, firelight flickering against his easy grin, sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
Satisfied with my work, I dusted off my hands and glanced over at Ryan. He was finishing up with the last of the tents, his shirt damp with sweat, muscles flexing as he tightened a rope. I bit my lip, watching the way his jeans hung on his hips.
Yeah, tonight was going to be good.
I strode over to the opposite side of camp, watching my father and Tate get settled in.
“Hey bud,” I sat down next to him, “how are you doing?”
Tate sat in silence for a moment, stacking kindling on the campfire. The two of us had been through something together—something that still lingered in the quiet moments. I knew he was still adjusting. We both were.
“Do you still have nightmares, too?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded. There were still nights I’d wake up in a cold sweat, heart racing, the walls closing in until I found Ryan beside me, his steady warmth grounding me back into reality.
“Sometimes before I fall asleep,” I told him, “I like to think about all the things that make me happy.”
Tate tilted his head, considering my words. “Like what?”
“Like riding my horse through the meadow,” I said with a small smile. “Or remembering when your dad and I used to go swimming in the river as kids. Winning a rodeo, the way it feels when the crowd cheers.”
He smirked. “That cowboy you like so much?”
I felt heat rise to my cheeks but didn’t deny it. “Sometimes him too,” I admitted. “But you know what happens when I think about all the good things?”
Tate shook his head.
“The bad dreams don’t come as often,” I said, my voice soft but certain.
He nodded, staring into the fire, the flickering flames reflecting in his thoughtful eyes. “Maybe I’ll try that,” he murmured.
I reached over and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You should. It helps.”
For the first time in a long while, I saw a flicker of ease settle over him, just enough to let me hope that maybe—just maybe—we’d both find peace again.
“Sweetheart,” my father’s normally gruff voice softened as he approached from behind, “you get settled in?”
I turned to face him, nodding. “Yeah, Dad,” I said, glancing out over the vast stretch of open land. The golden light of the setting sun painted everything in warm hues, casting long shadows over the camp. “I think this is what we need,” I admitted, my voice quieter. “What we both need.”
His gaze followed mine, taking in the familiar landscape, the same land that had shaped us, broken us, and somehow held us together. I fought against the sting in my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat before it could take hold.
“I think I’m gonna go see what Lloyd has on the chuckwagon,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m starving.”
Dad gave a small nod, understanding in his eyes. “Go on, then. Make sure he saved some for me.”
I turned away, grateful for the excuse to put some distance between myself and the emotions threatening to surface. Maybe out here, under the wide-open sky, we could start to put the pieces back together.
I sank into my camp chair, the warmth of the stew in my lap comforting against the cool evening air. The Montana sky stretched endlessly above us, a blanket of stars flickering like tiny promises. Ryan’s hand rested on my thigh, his touch grounding me in a way nothing else could.
“You doing okay, baby?” His voice was gentle as he pulled me from my thoughts. “You don’t have to put on a brave face for me.”
I turned to him, finding the quiet concern in his eyes. “I know,” I murmured, my fingers brushing over his. “I’m doing better. I don’t know if I could have made it through it without you.”
His grip on my leg tightened just slightly, reassuring, steady. “Baby,” he said, voice soft but firm, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I nodded, knowing it was true. “You ready to take me to bed, cowboy?”
Ryan’s grin was slow and knowing. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, gathering up our empty bowls and setting them aside.
Before I could move, his strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly. My heart skipped a beat as he carried me toward the tent, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his face.
“Ryan,” I murmured, looping my arms around his neck.
“Hmm?” he glanced down, his smirk never fading.
I brushed my lips against his ear, my voice a teasing whisper. “I think I like it when you carry me.”
His grip tightened. “Good,” he said, stepping inside the tent and kicking the flap shut behind us, “because I’m not putting you down anytime soon.”
His hands ran slowly down my legs and tugged my boots off. He looked down at me as we settled on the bedding.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’m trying to decide where I want to start with you,” he smirked eyes dark as they scanned my body. His thumb grazed my lip, “Should I start here?” Then he slid his hand to my neck, ghosting his fingers softly over my flesh, “Or here,” his fingers trailed lower, teasing the skin of my chest as he unbuttoned my shirt, “Or even here,” he smirked as I reacted to his touch.
“Ryan,” I groaned as he teased me.
Ryan chuckled, low and deep, clearly enjoying the way my breath hitched beneath his touch. His rough fingers traced lazy circles over my skin, igniting a slow burn everywhere they lingered.
“You sound impatient, baby,” he murmured, pressing a teasing kiss just below my ear. “That bad?”
I swallowed hard, gripping the front of his shirt and tugging him closer. “You’re doing it on purpose.”
His smirk was pure sin. “Maybe.”
His hands roamed lower, fingertips grazing the dip of my waist, the curve of my hips, setting every nerve alight. The anticipation coiled tight in my stomach, my body arching into him as I let out another breathless sound.
“Damn, I love that,” he muttered, his voice husky. “You always sound so sweet when you want me.”
“Then quit teasing me and do something about it,” I challenged, my lips curling into a smirk of my own.
Ryan’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening as he leaned in. “Oh, baby,” he breathed against my mouth, “you have no idea what you just started.”
“Please, just start,” my words came out more needy than intended. My impatience growing as the fire of each light torturous touch edged me on.
“You know I’ll take care of you,” his lips danced over the tender spot on my neck. “But I like feeling you squirm.”
Ryan’s words sent a shiver down my spine, heat pooling low in my stomach. My breath hitched as he lingered at my neck, his lips barely ghosting over my skin.
“Ryan,” I pleaded, my grip on his shirt tightening.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my throat. “Damn, baby,” he murmured, “you’re really that desperate for me, huh?”
I exhaled sharply, my nails digging into his shoulders. “You know I am.”
His hands trailed lower, slow and deliberate, teasing every inch of me with maddening restraint. “I love hearing you beg,” he admitted, his voice thick with desire. “Almost makes me want to drag this out longer.”
I whimpered, pushing up against him, wordlessly demanding more.
Ryan groaned, his control slipping as he finally gave in. “Alright, baby,” he whispered, his lips crashing against mine, “let’s start.”
“You are such a tease,” I groaned against his lips, his hands moved to quickly unbutton the rest of my shirt and push it off my shoulders. His lips moved down my neck more determined than before. His fingers unbuckled my belt and popped the button of my jeans open. His hand slipping inside the waistband of my satin panties.
“I think you like it when I tease you,” his fingers glided slowly over my folds, “you’re already soaking wet for me.”
A shuddering breath escaped me as Ryan’s fingers traced agonizingly slow circles against my heat. My body arched into his touch, craving more, but he held me in place, his other hand splayed against my hip.
“You talk a big game,” I managed, my voice shaky with anticipation, “but if you don’t stop teasing, cowboy, I might just have to take matters into my own hands.”
Ryan chuckled, the sound deep and full of amusement. “That so?” he murmured, his lips trailing lower, brushing over my collarbone. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”
With one swift movement, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of my jeans and panties, tugging them down my thighs. His heated gaze met mine as he settled between my legs, a devilish smirk playing at his lips.
“Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. “Nice and slow.”
He pulled me closer to him, throwing my legs over his shoulders as he buried himself between my thighs. Groaning against my sensitive flesh as his lips and tongue danced over me. My fingers curled in his hair urging him to further. I could feel his smile against my flesh as I tried to push up against him. I needed more.
I let out a deep moan when he slipped his finger inside me, then added a second. Hooking them to reach the right spot. His lips circled my clit, sucking gently as his tongue grazed the delicate bundle of nerves.
“Ryan,” I cried out, I couldn’t make myself hold back, I didn’t want to, he didn’t want me to. My legs trembled around him, my body tightening with every stroke of his skilled fingers and flick of his tongue.
He pulled away, leaving me gasping and desperate for his touch. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at me.
I groaned, “I was there and you stopped.”
“I know, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with his own need. Without a word, he slammed into me, filling me up and sending a shockwave of pleasure through my body. Our eyes locked as we found our rhythm, his hips moving in a steady beat that almost made the ground beneath us tremble.
My nails dug into his back as he picked up the pace, the pressure building inside me again.
“Cum for me,” he demanded, his voice gruff with need. And just like that, I did. The orgasm ripped through me like lightning, leaving me trembling and gasping for breath.
But Ryan wasn’t done. He kept moving, pushing me towards another peak, his own release drawing closer.
And then it hit me, a second orgasm that felt like it would never end. I screamed out his name, my body convulsing around him as he followed me over the edge, filling me up with his heat.
We collapsed together, our hearts racing, breaths mingling in the quiet of the tent. I rested my head against his chest, the warmth of his body grounding me as the aftershocks of our connection lingered.
“You’re lucky I love you,” I murmured, a playful smile tugging at my lips.
He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through my hair as he pulled me closer. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking lucky,” he replied, his voice low and warm, his touch gentle.

Chapter Text

“Baby, I could just make it normal,” Ryan said, eyeing me as I heated water over the campfire. His impatience was clear, but I ignored it, focused on my task.
Instead of using the camp coffee pot, I insisted on making coffee with my French press.
“It’s so much better this way,” I told him, scooping the coarse grounds into the press and pouring the steaming water over the top. “Richer, more flavor.” I stirred it slightly before placing the lid on, letting it steep.
Behind me, I could feel Ryan shifting, his patience thinning. “It may be better,” he grumbled, “but it takes fucking forever.”
I glanced up at him, my eyes still twinkling from the intensity of our night. “Sometimes taking your time,” I murmured, pressing the plunger down slowly, “makes it so much better.”
I filled his cup and handed it to him. He took it, bringing it to his lips for a long, appreciative drink.
“Better?” I asked, glancing up at him as I poured myself a cup.
Ryan took another sip, then exhaled through his nose. “Alright, it’s good,” he admitted, though the reluctance in his voice made me grin. “But you can’t keep my caffeine from me, baby.”
I stood, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “I know, cowboy,” I murmured against his skin. “I always make it worth the wait.”
“I’ll wait forever for you,” he murmured, giving my hip a gentle squeeze. “But not my coffee. Can’t function without it.”
I chuckled, leaning into the solid warmth of his presence. “I noticed,” I teased, watching as the rest of the camp stirred to life around us—the crackle of the fire, the murmur of voices, the soft clink of tin cups.
Ryan took another slow sip, his free hand slipping around my waist, holding me close. “Good,” he said, his breath warm against my hair. “Because withholding caffeine? That’s just cruel, baby.”
I smirked, tilting my head to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, cowboy,” I promised. “I won’t hold out on you again.”
“Y’all have coffee?” Colby’s voice rang out from across camp, his tent flap rustling as he stepped outside, looking half-asleep.
“Yeah, just finished making it,” I said, reaching for his cup. I poured the rich, dark brew and handed it over.
Colby took a long swallow, then let out a satisfied sigh. “Damn, that’s good.”
Ryan snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to wait twenty minutes while she made it.”
I shot him a playful glare. “Patience is a virtue, cowboy.”
“Not before coffee, it ain’t,” Ryan muttered, taking another sip from his own cup.
“Noted,” I started gathering up empty plates and bowls from the night before, “if one of you wouldn’t mind filling up that container with water I can get started on these.”

Colby arched a brow, “Didn’t think you’d get domesticated so soon, Alex.”

“It’s just dishes, but if you’re keen on doing them, I can go get the water,” I responded.
Colby smirked, lifting his cup to his lips. “Nah, I think watching you play house is more entertaining.”
I rolled my eyes, stacking the last of the plates. “It’s just dishes, Colby, not a wedding ring.” I jerked my chin toward the water container. “But if you’re so fascinated, why don’t you grab the water while I scrub?”
Ryan chuckled, stretching out his legs. “Careful, Colby. She’ll have you fetching firewood next.”
Colby groaned but grabbed the container anyway. “Fine, fine. But if I come back and you’re knitting socks, I’m out.”
“Though now that you mention it,” I glanced up at Ryan, “I think we do need some more firewood.”

“Alright, baby, I deserve that one,” he pressed a kiss to the top of my head and followed after his friend.
I smiled to myself as I watched them go, shaking my head. The camp was starting to feel like home in a way I hadn’t expected. The easy banter, the quiet moments, the way Ryan kissed me like it was second nature—it all settled something deep inside me.
As I got to work scrubbing the dishes, I heard footsteps approaching. Tate plopped down on a nearby log, watching me with a curious expression.
“You always do the dishes?” he asked.
I smirked. “Only when I’m trying to prove a point.”
Tate tilted his head. “What point?”
“Not sure really,” I told him, “you wanna help me? I’ll wash, you dry?”

“Alright,” he took the dripping dish from me and a towel and wiped it down.

“Where’s Grandpa?” I asked him. Tate pointed at my father with his phone to his ear.

“Work follows him everywhere,” he said.

“Yep, he doesn’t get to relax as much as he should,” I told him. I watched my father climb up a hill trying to get a better signal.

“Damn it,” Dad shouted then looked down at his phone with no signal then back down at the camp. “Hey,” he called down to the hands who were carrying back containers of water and arms full of firewood, “I want everything up here. The tents the fire, the whole goddamn everything.”

I shook my head and smiled, “Now he’ll finally relax.”

Tate let out a small laugh, shaking his head as he passed me another dish. “You think moving camp up there is gonna make him relax?”
I shrugged, scrubbing the bowl in my hands. “Maybe not, but at least he won’t be pacing around here cursing at his phone.”
We both glanced up at Dad, who was already barking orders, pointing at different spots on the ridge like he was plotting a battlefield strategy.
“Should we tell him that spot’s probably got worse reception?” Tate mused.
I snorted. “I think that’s the point.”
Tate grinned, drying the last dish. “Guess that means we don’t have to do anything till they move everything, huh?”
I set the pot aside and ruffled his hair. “Smart kid.”
For a moment, we just stood there, watching the chaos unfold as the wranglers muttered under their breath and started hauling supplies uphill.
Ryan walked past, shaking his head. “Your dad’s got us moving camp 'cause his phone don’t work?”
“Yep,” I smirked.
He sighed dramatically, then leaned in and murmured, “You and me are sleeping in the same tent no matter where it ends up, right?”
I bit back a smile. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, cowboy.”
After everything was moved up the ridge, I walked over to my father’s tent with Tate and took a seat beside them, watching as the hands worked to set up camp again.
“Is this a better camp, Grandpa?” Tate asked, his tone laced with amusement.
Dad glanced down at his phone, pressing the screen a few times before sighing. “Let’s see… still no damn signal.” He tucked it away with a nod. “Yep, this camp is much better.”
I chuckled, stretching my legs out in front of me. “For the record, my phone still has a signal.”
Dad shot me a look. “If they call you looking for me, you don’t know me. You never saw me.”
I smirked, raising a hand in mock solemnity. “Won’t tell a soul.”
I turned at the sound of hooves pounding against the earth, watching as Jake barreled into camp on horseback, dust kicking up in his wake.
“What in the hell?” I muttered, spotting Monica and Rip trailing not far behind him.
“Momma!” Tate took off running toward her.
Monica barely had time to dismount before Tate wrapped his arms around her. “Look at you, baby! You having fun?” she asked, brushing his hair back.
“Yeah! All we do is fish and eat, fish and eat,” he said excitedly. “But I helped Alex with the dishes too!”
“No better medicine,” Dad remarked, his gaze shifting to me. “Where’s your brother?”
I shrugged. “Last I saw, he was still out looking for wolves. Said he heard some last night while he was keeping watch.”
Monica’s expression tightened. “That sounds ominous. Which way did he go?”
I pointed in the direction Kayce had gone, and without another word, Monica followed.
Rip’s expression made it clear—he wanted a private word with my father. Catching the silent request, I gave him a nod and took the reins of the pack mule, leading it toward the chuck wagon to unload.
While Dad, Kayce, and Ryan had been searching for me and Tate, something else had happened—something that had given Rip the one thing he’d always wanted. My father had finally called him son. And along with that, he’d given him my grandpa’s old cabin.
But that wasn’t the gift that truly mattered.
I’d always seen Rip as another brother. A meaner brother—one who wouldn’t cave to me like Lee or Jamie did—but a brother nonetheless. He looked out for me just as fiercely, and I knew, without a doubt, he’d bleed for this family just as much as any of us.
“You know, out here looks good on you,” Lloyd said as he helped me unload the mule.
“It’s simple,” I admitted, brushing dust off my jeans. “Easy. I don’t have to think too much.” My gaze drifted to the cattle grazing in the open field. “The only predators we have to worry about here are wolves and bears. Not people.”
Lloyd gave a slow nod, the kind that came from years of understanding things he couldn’t always put into words. “Yeah… you’ll figure out a way to make it work, in time.”
I exhaled, nodding. “But if any of you puts a washtub out by my tent and expects me to do laundry, I’m done.”
Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’. I’d prefer the Maytag back at the bunkhouse myself.”

I sat at the picnic table surrounded by the people who meant the most to me—Ryan, the ranch hands, my father, my brother, his wife, and their son. They weren’t just family. They were home.
The air was crisp with the scent of campfire smoke and fresh earth, laughter mixing with the sounds of the cattle settling for the night. I couldn’t think of a more perfect evening.
“Ryan, you have something…” I gestured toward his chin, biting back a smile as I resisted the urge to wipe away the streak of butter that had dribbled from his bite of corn.
Monica caught the moment and smirked knowingly. “It’s hard at first,” she said, dabbing a napkin against Kayce’s chin like it was second nature. “Keeping yourself from taking care of them. But once you find your rhythm, it just seems to work out.”
Ryan grinned at me, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before taking another bite. I shook my head with a chuckle, knowing Monica was right. Some habits were hard to break—especially when love made them second nature.
“Anymore biscuits?” Tate asked walking over to my father.
“There you go,” Dad plopped a biscuit on Tate’s plate. He held his plate out for another. Dad plopped a second one down.
“I’m gonna need more than that,” Tate grinned.
“You’re just like your father,” Dad laughed, “You know my wife used to make two Dutch ovens full of biscuits one for him and one for the rest of us. He’d stand by the fire and ask ‘How long?’ and she’d say ‘Five more minutes’. Which just meant soon to my wife, it didn’t mean five minutes. He’d stomp off and pout and then come back and ask again, that shit would go on for an hour. When they were finally ready he’d take a plate of biscuits and nothing else, and just go at it with both hands.”
Ryan chuckled at the story, lacing his fingers with mine.
“They were really good,” Kayce said in his defense.
“You went after them like a wild dog,” I laughed.
“Why you laughing they were good?” Kayce said.
“After an hour of standing over that Dutch oven, she’d sit beside me, her hair a mess, smelling like smoke, madder than hell cause she hated making those damn biscuits,” Dad continued, “I looked at her and said, ‘Sweetheart, he’ll eat anything you put in front of him.’ Your mom looked at me and said, ‘I know. If I don’t make ‘em, I can’t watch him eat ‘em.’ Then she went to the tent laid down, and fell asleep. We were branding so I was up before her.”
I felt the sting in my eyes, knowing exactly which camping trip Dad was remembering. “I had to get back to the barn to clean the stalls,” I said quietly, my voice thick with emotion. “Had to take care of my horse, ‘cause I promised her—and you—that I’d do it every morning if you got me that horse.”
Dad exhaled deeply and looked down at his hands, his calloused fingers running over the rim of his tin cup. “That was the last thing she ever said to me.”
The air around the campfire seemed to still as Dad’s words settled over us. The warmth of the flames flickered against his face, but his eyes were lost in a memory.
Ryan gave my hand a gentle squeeze, grounding me as the memory of my mother washed over me. I could still picture her—tired, covered in flour and smoke, but always watching over us, always making sure we were taken care of.
Dad stood, not wanting the men to see him get emotional, and walked to his tent.
Silence stretched between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. Just full of things we couldn’t say.
Ryan didn’t let go of my hand.
—-
I pulled a towel and a change of clothes from my bag. Balancing them on one arm while I carried my toiletry bag in the other. I stepped out of the tent into Ryan’s chest.
“Where you off to in such a hurry?” He eyed the bundle in my arms.
“Down to the river, I need a bath,” I told him.
His brow cocked and his lips curved into a smirk, “I think you need someone to keep watch. Don’t you?”
I couldn't help but smile at his suggestion. "You think you're the man for the job?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.
Ryan's smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his hand brushing against the towel in my arms. "I know I am," he said, his voice low and confident. "After all, someone has to make sure you’re safe... and distracted."
I let out a soft laugh, my heart quickening as I met his gaze. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that."
We walked through the trees to a secluded section of the river. I felt his gaze on me when I slipped my shirt off and toed out of my boots. I turned toward him, meeting his eyes as I slowly slipped out of my jeans and tossed them in the growing pile on the ground.
“You just gonna watch, cowboy?” A coy smile tugged at my lips as I stepped back into the water.
Ryan's gaze lingered on me, his eyes darkening as he watched every movement. He took a step forward, his lips curling into a slow, appreciative smile. “I might be content just watching… but I think you’d rather have me join you.”
He reached down, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them off, the sound of the fabric brushing against his skin sending a thrill through me. He stepped into the water, his body close to mine now, the cool river water at our feet as his eyes never left mine.
“Better?” he asked, his voice a low murmur, his body just inches from mine. The heat between us was undeniable, even with the coolness of the river around us.
“Much better,” I murmured, my hands resting on his waist as I guided us deeper into the water. My eyes stayed locked on his, the tension thick between us.
As the river lapped around our waists, he cupped the back of my neck, his touch both firm and tender. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over mine, teasing, savoring the moment. My breath hitched, anticipation curling through me like wildfire.
I slipped my arms around his waist, pulling him flush against me, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath against my skin. My tongue traced his lower lip, a silent plea for more, for deeper.
He smirked against my lips, teasing, savoring the control he had over me. His hands roamed slowly, deliberately, mapping every curve as if committing me to memory. The cool water swirled around us, a stark contrast to the heat building between our bodies.
Ryan’s hands roamed my body as his lips moved against mine, heat coiling between us as the cool water surrounded us. I let out a breathy sigh, threading my fingers through his damp hair, pulling him impossibly closer—
“For fuck’s sake.”
I jolted, turning my head to find Kayce standing on the riverbank, arms crossed, looking about two seconds away from throwing a rock at Ryan’s head.
“Seriously?” I groaned.
“Yeah, seriously. Y’all couldn’t find a better place to do this?” Kayce scowled. “What if it wasn’t me walking up?”
Ryan huffed, clearly unbothered. “Then they would’ve gotten one hell of a show.”
As though the embarrassment wasn’t enough, I heard more voices behind my brother. Colby, Jimmy, and Jake emerged from the woods, each with a towel tossed over their shoulders.
A slow smirk spread over Colby’s face as he caught us almost in the act.
Colby let out a low whistle, crossing his arms. “Well, damn. If I knew bath time came with a live performance, I’d have shown up sooner.”
Jimmy, looking anywhere but at us, muttered, “I told y’all we should’ve come later.”
Jake snorted. “Yeah, but then we would’ve missed all the fun.”
Ryan just smirked, “You boys need somethin’, or you just here to gawk?”
Kayce’s scowl deepened as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “We came down to wash up. Didn’t realize we needed to reserve the damn river.”
I groaned, my grip tightening around Ryan as I tried to make myself as small as possible behind him. My brother hadn’t seen me this exposed since we were kids, and I’d be happy if that streak continued. “Could y’all at least turn around?”
Colby chuckled but raised his hands in surrender. “Relax, darlin’, we ain’t lookin’. Ain’t none of us got a death wish.”
Kayce muttered something under his breath before glaring at Ryan. “You. Out. Now.”
Ryan sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. “I ain’t done yet.”
“You are now.” Kayce’s tone left no room for argument.
Ryan grumbled but waded toward the riverbank, grabbing his clothes. I took the opportunity to duck lower in the water, waiting for the guys to turn around.
Colby smirked at Ryan. “For the record, man, you should’ve picked a more private spot.”
Ryan shot him a grin. “For the record, we were doin’ just fine till y’all showed up.”
Colby laughed, and Kayce just shook his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.”
“Can y’all please leave now? I wasn’t planning on spending the whole summer in this river,” I grumbled.
“We’re going, we’re going,” Colby chuckled, “by the way Alex, nice tattoo.”
“I thought you said you weren’t looking, you dick,” I wrapped my arms around my body as I watched them leave. I waited a couple minutes to make sure it was safe before stepping out of the water.
Ryan smirked as he handed me his shirt, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Didn’t think you wanted to show off your tattoo to the whole damn bunkhouse, baby.”
I snatched the shirt from his hands and yanked it over my head. “Yeah, well, neither did I.” I shot a glare in the direction Colby and the others had disappeared. “Jackasses.”
Ryan chuckled, stepping closer and sliding his hands over my hips. “I don’t mind sharing a little—” His voice dipped lower as he leaned in. “—but that one? That one’s mine.”
I rolled my eyes, but my stomach flipped at the possessive edge in his tone. “Pretty sure you’re the only one who’s actually gotten to study it.”
“Damn right.” He pressed a lingering kiss to my temple before grabbing the rest of our clothes. “Now let’s get back before your brother decides to drown me for real.”
I sighed, casting one last glance at the river before following him. “Yeah, I’d rather not explain to Dad why Kayce’s dragging your body out of the water.” I sighed, slipping my hand into his as we made our way back toward camp. “I guess I gotta get up at three a.m. to take a bath in peace around here.”
Ryan chuckled, his fingers lacing with mine. “Can I still keep watch?” His smirk was all mischief, and I could already see where his thoughts were headed.
I shot him a knowing look. “I think you get too distracted keeping watch.”
He pulled me to a stop, tugging me flush against him. “Distracted? Nah. I’m just real thorough.” His lips brushed against my ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Gotta make sure no one sneaks up on you… or gets too good a look.”
I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile as I nudged him playfully. “You mean like half the damn bunkhouse?”
Ryan sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Yeah, that was unfortunate.” He grinned. “But on the bright side, now they all know you’re mine.”
I scoffed. “Oh, please. They already knew.”
“Damn right they did,” he murmured, squeezing my hand before leading me the rest of the way back to camp.
—--
I dipped my brush into the paint, focusing on my strokes along the wooden planks of the new barn. The embarrassment of the morning had finally faded, and I was grateful for the distraction of work. Colby and Ryan were up on the roof with the new girl. Rip’s attempt at diversity in the bunkhouse.
I didn’t mind having another woman in the bunkhouse. It kept them honest. I missed Avery, though, and wondered what happened to her. I just wanted someone with a pair of boobs that I could converse with that wasn’t my sister.
“Y’all doing alright up there?” I called up the ladder.
“Yeah, baby,” Ryan called back, “I’m coming down.” I took a few steps back as I watched him. Damn, even all sweaty and covered in paint he was sexy. He grinned seeing how I was admiring him. “You like what you see?”
“I’m just making sure you don’t fall,” I smirked. “I don’t think we’d be able to find another hand that has your qualifications.”
“Is that right?” his eyes met mine with a playful glint in them as he gripped my hips to pull me closer.
“You just put paint all over my ass didn’t you?”
Ryan’s grin widened. “Maybe.”
I twisted my neck, trying to get a look at the damage. A fresh smear of red paint decorated the seat of my jeans. “You are such an ass,” I groaned, but I didn’t pull away.
Ryan laughed, sliding his hands up to my waist. “C’mon, you wear it well.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing my brush and swiping it across his arm, leaving a streak of red against his tan skin. “Now we match.”
He looked down at his arm, then back at me, shaking his head with a smirk. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.”
Before I could react, his fingers dug into my ribs, sending me into a fit of laughter as I squirmed in his grasp.
“Alright, lovebirds, break it up before you fall face-first into the paint,” Rip called from across the barn.
I shoved at Ryan’s chest, still laughing, and reached for my brush again. “You better get back up there and finish the roof before Colby starts complaining.”
Ryan leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to my temple before grabbing his ladder. “Yes, ma’am.”
I watched him climb, shaking my head with a smirk before turning my attention back to my work. My brush had barely touched the wood before Jimmy’s voice cut through the afternoon heat.
Jimmy wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing toward the sun. “Hey, what time is it?”
“Think it’s about noon. You got somewhere to be?”
“The qualifier in Livingston starts at three.” His voice held that mix of nerves and excitement I recognized all too well.
I paused, turning to face him. “You got your pro card already?”
Jimmy shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not yet. That’s what this is for. If I place high enough, I can apply for it.”
I nodded, setting my brush down. “You nervous?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Shit, yeah. But I gotta do it sometime, right?”
A slow smile spread across my face. “Damn right you do. You’ve been busting your ass for this.” I nudged his shoulder. “You got this, Jimmy.”
He grinned, a little steadier now. “Thanks, Alex.”
Teeter glanced down from the roof, one hand resting on her hip as she chewed the inside of her cheek. How she got up there, Lord only knows.
“What’s your name again?” I called up to her, shading my eyes from the sun.
Her thick twang rang out in response. “Teeter.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Alex,” I said, leaning against the ladder propped against the barn.
The guys had warned me she was hard to understand, but I’d rodeoed enough in Texas to recognize the rhythm of her speech. It wasn’t all that difficult if you just listened.
Teeter squinted down at me, studying me like she was sizing me up. “You new too?”
I smirked. “Nah, I just took a break.”
She nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer, then went right back to painting something on the roof like our conversation never happened.
I glanced at Jimmy, who was shifting on his feet, clearly unsure if he should stick around or make a run for it.
"If we’re done here, is it okay if I head out?" Jimmy called over to Rip, trying to sound casual.
Rip barely spared him a glance. "What’s the matter? I don’t pay you enough?"
Before Jimmy could stammer out a response, Dad cut in, his voice stern. "It’s a rough way to make a living, Jimmy. You break your arm chasing buckles, it’s hard to stay on any man’s payroll."
Jimmy let out a dry laugh. "Yes, sir."
I crossed my arms and looked at Dad. "I’ve watched him. He can really sit a bronc."
Dad sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as Jamie pulled up in his truck, looking like he had bad news written all over him.
"There goes the day," he muttered under his breath.
“Governor wants to see us,” Jamie called out from his truck.
“Governor wants to see you, I’m retired and enjoying it,” Dad replied.
“She said both of us,” Jamie responded.
“If it’s that important she can come see me,” Dad said, “tell her I’ll be at the rodeo in Livingston. I’m sure her voters would enjoy watching her partake in something they actually care about.” He left Jamie and walked back to the barn, “Rip decide who’s staying with the herd tonight. I’m gonna take this outfit to town and we’re gonna go watch Jimmy rodeo.”
I smiled at Jimmy, “I knew he’d crack.”
“Hey Teeter,” Rip called up, “you’re with the herd tonight. Colby, you go with her.”
I suppressed a laugh, “That is what I call karma.”
Colby groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as Teeter grinned down at him from the barn roof. "Yeah, well, karma’s a bitch," he muttered.
I smirked.
"Who am I to come between you and nature, Colby?" Ryan chuckled.
"Hey, who’s on top?" Jimmy chimed in, motioning between Colby and Teeter.
Ryan didn’t miss a beat. "I don’t think there’s any debate about that."
The rest of us laughed while Colby shook his head, muttering something under his breath.
"Alright, we’re gonna go get cleaned up and head into town," Ryan announced, tossing an arm around my shoulders. "You have a great night, buddy. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do."
I shot Ryan a knowing look, lips curling in amusement. "That leaves your options wide open," I teased. "There’s not a lot he won’t do."
Colby sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "I want all three of you just to drop dead, right in front of me. That would be a dream."
I smirked. "Oh, I think you need to make room for new dreams."
"Alright, y’all have fun," Jimmy called up to Teeter. "Take care of our friend, okay? And go slow—he’s a romantic."
Teeter leaned over the edge of the barn roof, squinting down at him. "Hey, you look like a plucked motherfuckin’ chicken. Boc, boc, boc!"
I bit my lip to hold in my laugh as Jimmy rolled his eyes.
Dad shook his head, muttering, "That one’s got a real mouth on her."
I grinned. "I like her."
—
I stood in the stands, hat over my heart listening to the national anthem played over the arena speakers. It felt different being in the stands and not on the sidelines getting ready to perform.
“Let’s give a round of applause to tonight's flag rider,” the voice-over speaker said. “It looks like we have two-time National Trick Riding Champion, Alex Dutton, in the stands tonight. Why don’t you give the fans a wave, Alex?”
A ripple of applause spread through the crowd as the spotlight swung toward me. I lifted my hat slightly and gave a small wave, feeling the eyes of the entire arena on me. It was a different kind of attention than I was used to—less adrenaline, more nostalgia.
Ryan nudged me with a grin. "They still love you, baby."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Guess so." But inside, a familiar itch stirred—the longing for the rush, the thrill of the ride.
I sat back down, my fingers absently running along the brim of my hat. It felt strange being here as just a spectator. The dirt of the arena called to me like an old friend, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could resist answering.
“Don’t let the attention go to your head, little sister,” Beth gave me a smirk as she attempted to hold Rip’s hand.
He held back until my Dad said, “You can hold her damn hand, Rip. Y’all must think I’m the dumbest man in the valley.”
“You wanna grab a beer before Jimmy is up?” I asked Ryan. He gave me a nod, “Dad? Y’all want anything.”
“I’ll take a beer,” Kayce added, glancing at Dad.
Beth smirked. “Get me one too.”
Rip shot her a look. “Thought you were drinkin’ whiskey tonight?”
“I can do both, baby.” She winked.
Dad shook his head. “Grab me one too.”
“You got it,” I nodded before nudging Ryan. “Come on, cowboy, let’s go before the line’s wrapped around the damn fairgrounds.”
As we wove through the crowd, Ryan leaned in. “You alright?”
I sighed, glancing back at the arena. “Yeah. Just feels different bein’ in the stands instead of back there gettin’ ready to ride.”
Ryan wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Ain’t no way you’re done for good, baby. You’ll be back out there soon enough.”
I smirked, bumping him with my hip. “That right?”
“Hell yeah.” He grinned. “It’s in your blood.”
I let his words sit with me as we reached the concession stand, the sounds of the rodeo alive all around us. Maybe he was right.
I ordered a round of beers for our group. I heard a small voice behind me, “Miss Dutton, can I get a picture with you?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” I gave the attendant my card and knelt down, “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Edith, but I go by Eddi, 'cause it sounds so old fashion,” she told me.
“I bet your mom and dad gave you that name 'cause it belongs to someone important in your family, huh?” I said. She nodded. “Guess what, I’m gonna tell you a secret, my first name is Elsa.”
“Like the Frozen lady?” she asked.
“Well I guess yeah, but I was named after the first person in our family to come to the valley,” I told her, “Don’t give your parents a hard time for giving you an old name. Old names have meaning.”
Eddi nodded thoughtfully. “Okay… but I still like Eddi better.”
I chuckled. “That’s fair. You get to make it your own.”
Her mom snapped the picture, and Eddi grinned up at me. “I wanna ride like you someday.”
I smiled, adjusting the brim of my hat. “Then you gotta promise me something.”
“What?”
“Never let anyone tell you that you can’t.”
Her little face lit up. “I won’t!”
Ryan handed me the beers, smirking. “Already recruitin’ the next generation?”
I watched Eddi run back to her mom, excitement in her step. “Maybe. Someone’s gotta keep the tradition alive.”
I bought the line that had been waiting behind me a round of beers, “Sorry.” I muttered as Ryan and I gathered our order to take back to the stands.
“If you tell anyone in the bunkhouse my first name is Elsa,” I looked up at Ryan as he carried the tray of drinks, “you’ll be sleeping alone.”
“My lips are sealed, baby,” he replied.
I shot him a playful look. “Good, because I’m not kidding.”
Ryan gave me a wink as he passed the tray to me. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Your secret’s safe with me.”
We made our way back to the stands, the noise of the crowd buzzing around us. The air felt different—alive with excitement—but the thought of my first name still lingered.
“You know, if I was Elsa, I’d expect to get a lot more than a few beers.” I teased as I handed the drinks to Dad.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’ve got enough clout as it is, don’t need any extra.”
I shook my head with a grin. “You’d be surprised.”
"Looks like we've got another very special guest with us tonight," the announcer's voice echoed over the loudspeakers, grabbing the attention of the entire arena. "Montana’s own Governor Perry."
The crowd’s applause filled the air as I stood, scanning the crowd for her. As she made her way through the stands, I offered her a warm smile, proud to see her here. She was confident, with a natural poise that made her presence unmistakable. She settled in beside my father, her smile just as warm as mine.
She turned to me, her voice cutting through the hum of excitement in the stands. "Thank you, Alex," she said with a grin. "If you ever think about running for office, you let me know. You’d have my full support."
I let out a small chuckle, shaking my head in amusement. "Don’t think that’s for me," I replied, giving her a teasing smile. "But I appreciate the offer."
Her gaze softened, understanding my hesitation. "Well, if you ever change your mind, just know you’ve got an ally in me."
I nodded, appreciative of her words. "I’ll keep that in mind, Governor. Thanks."
I smiled as I watched my father speak softly to her, his voice low and almost unrecognizable in the noise of the arena. There was something about Lynell Perry that seemed to calm him, or at least make him appear lighter, like he had a moment of relief from the weight he always carried. He needed someone like her—someone with a strength of her own who could stand beside him without being intimidated.
It was a side of my father I rarely saw, one that was softer, less guarded, like he was allowed to let his guard down for just a second.
He needed that, maybe more than he realized.
Whether or not it was enough to truly bring him happiness, I didn’t know. But for tonight, it seemed like a taste of something good. Something real. Maybe that was all he’d ever ask for.
“Jimmy’s next,” Rip said, settling down beside Beth and me.
“Awesome,” I replied, squeezing Ryan's hand. “Is it weird that I feel a little nervous for him?”
The announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, and I turned just in time to see Jimmy’s horse charge out of the bucking chute. My eyes locked on him, watching as he gripped the rigging, but something wasn’t right. His posture was off, his grip too loose. It was a fraction of a second too late when I realized he wasn’t holding on the way he should.
The horse twisted, bucking violently, and with a sudden, gut-wrenching force, Jimmy was sent flying through the air. My breath caught in my throat as he hit the dirt with a sickening thud.
I stood up, my heart racing, my stomach tightening in knots. “Get up, Jimmy,” I whispered to myself, willing him to move, to prove that he was alright.
But he didn’t move.
The arena fell silent for a beat, and I saw the flash of the ambulance lights in my peripheral vision. They rushed in, and the crew carefully loaded him onto a stretcher, the crowd murmuring in the background.
The air felt thick, like it was pressing down on me, every part of my body tense with worry. I kept my eyes on him, praying that he would somehow open his eyes, jump off the stretcher, and shake it off. But that wasn’t what happened. All I could do was watch, my thoughts scattered, as they wheeled him out of the arena.

Chapter Text

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding when Dad called. Jimmy was okay. Well—not okay, but he was alive. And he would be able to walk with his new hip. Everything else would heal with time.
The knot in my stomach loosened, but the weight of the evening still pressed on my shoulders. The image of Jimmy lying limp in the dirt, unmoving, played over and over in my mind.
Ryan’s hand found mine, his grip firm and reassuring. “Told you he was too damn stubborn to go out like that,” he said softly.
I nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, but it scared the hell out of me.”
Dad’s voice was still in my ear, gravelly but steady. “I’ll meet you back at camp, Jimmy’s staying in the hospital for a few days.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Alright, Dad. Thanks for calling.”
—---
I sat atop my horse, my second favorite place in the world—now that I had Ryan—watching over the cattle as they lazily grazed under the early morning sun. There wasn’t much work in moments like this, just observation. Just being.
"Be well, cows," I muttered, half to myself, half to them. The herd stretched out before me, some clustered in small groups, others wandering off toward the tree line. The rhythmic sound of my horse’s breathing and the occasional lowing of the cattle filled the quiet.
The land felt alive in the stillness. The way the wind moved through the grass, the distant rustling of something unseen in the brush—it all felt like part of a rhythm older than any of us.
I ran my fingers through my horse’s mane, savoring the calm. Moments like these were why I stayed, why I fought for this land.
A familiar sound broke through my thoughts—hoofbeats approaching from behind. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Ryan. I felt his presence before he even spoke.
"Talking to the cows again?" he teased, his voice warm with amusement.
I smirked, keeping my gaze on the horizon. "Someone’s gotta keep ‘em in line."
“You let me know if they start talking back, baby,” he grinned pulling his horse to a stop right next to mine.
“If you listen real close,” I told him, “maybe you’ll hear them say something other than ‘Moo’.”
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “I think if I start hearin’ voices out here, I’ll be more worried about my own sanity than what the cows have to say.”
I smirked, keeping my eyes on the herd. “Maybe they’ve got wisdom to share. You ever think about that?”
He leaned forward, resting an arm against the saddle horn. “Wisdom, huh? Alright, cow whisperer, what pearls of knowledge have they passed on to you?”
I shrugged, pretending to think. “Mostly complaints. Not enough grass here, too much wind there. Typical ranch problems.”
Ryan grinned. “Sounds like the bunkhouse.”
That made me laugh. “Yeah, but at least the cows earn their keep.”
He reached over, giving my thigh a squeeze. “That’s cold, baby.”
I finally turned to look at him, taking in the easy smile on his face, the way the sun caught in his eyes. “You’ll live.”
Ryan huffed a laugh, shaking his head before glancing out at the herd. “They look good.”
“They do,” I agreed. “Still, I like to keep watch. Just in case.”
His expression softened. “Yeah, I know.”
And he did. More than most.
I’m pulled from my insight from the cows as the sound of the Tracker coming over the hill. It was Jake. That part wasn’t what caught me off guard. It was his passenger, Governor Lynnel Perry.
“Holly, hell,” I muttered, “what is she doing here?” I watched her climb out of the Tracker and walk up to my father. A very impressive hook-up. I groaned almost at the thought of my father having a booty call. But at least his was the Governor of Montana. And not some twenty-five-year-old stripper named Bambi or Candy. I pushed the thoughts away, I was way overthinking this.
Ryan followed my gaze, his brows lifting in amusement as he watched the Governor step out of the Tracker. “Damn. Your old man sure knows how to pick ‘em.”
I groaned. “Don’t. I already regret thinking about it.”
Ryan chuckled, adjusting his reins. “Could be worse.”
“Yeah?” I shot him a look.
“Could be some twenty-five-year-old stripper named Bambi or Candy.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “I just told myself not to think about that.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “I’m just sayin’, Governor of Montana ain’t a bad look.”
I shot him a glare before turning back toward my father and the Governor. They stood close, speaking in low voices. Dad looked about as relaxed as he ever did in broad daylight, which was saying something.
“You think it’s business or pleasure?” Ryan asked, tilting his head.
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Knowing my father? Probably both.”
Ryan let out a low whistle. “Man really does it all.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I need a drink.”
Ryan smirked. “We could always take another trip to the river if you need to cool off.”
I shot him a playful glance. “If I get in the river with you, cooling off will be the last thing on my mind.” I winked before nudging my horse forward, leaving him grinning in my wake.
Up ahead, Governor Perry strolled toward Kayce, falling into step beside him as they disappeared into the trees.
I turned my attention to Dad. “I’m guessing she’s not here just for a social call?”
He let out a dry chuckle. “No, she’s not, sweetheart.”
I arched a brow. “Why is she here?”
Dad studied me for a beat, a knowing glint in his eye. “Surprised you’re asking instead of snooping around to figure it out yourself.”
I shrugged. “Thought I’d save some time and try the direct approach first.”
His lips twitched, but his voice remained even. “She wants Jamie as Attorney General.”
That made sense—Jamie had always been drawn to politics like a moth to a flame. But then my gaze flicked back to the trees where Kayce and the Governor had vanished.
“Then why is she talking to Kayce?”
Dad exhaled. “Livestock Commissioner.”
I frowned. “I thought he didn’t want the job.”
Dad’s expression darkened slightly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Me too, sweetheart.”
“You worried?” I asked, studying his face.
Dad let out a slow breath, eyes still fixed on the horizon. “I’m always worried. But about that? I don’t think so.”
I smirked. “You know, when I’m not snooping, I ask a lot of damn questions.”
He shot me a sideways glance. “Yeah, and when you do, it’s usually just to see if I’ll actually answer ‘em.”
I grinned. “Busted.”
Dad shook his head, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.
“Love you, Daddy.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, waving me off. “Go ride your horse in the meadow or something.”
I kicked my heels into the sides of my horse, urging her into a steady gallop as the wind whipped through my hair, carrying the scent of fresh grass and the faintest hint of rain. I wasn’t riding Denim, and I didn’t have my trick riding saddle, but something inside me stirred, and I couldn’t resist the pull of the open land.
I gripped the saddle horn tightly, my fingers flexing as I swung my legs to one side, feeling the dirt brush beneath my boots for just a heartbeat. For that moment, I was weightless, caught between air and earth, adrenaline surging through me, my heart racing faster than the hooves pounding beneath us. Then, in one fluid motion, I hopped back into the saddle, my boots landing with a soft thud.
The rush was intense—raw and electrifying. It wasn’t a full trick, not without Denim or the right gear, but it was enough to make my pulse quicken, the thrill of the moment surging through my veins.
My horse snorted, her muscles tensing under me as she adjusted to the sudden shift in weight. I reached down, running a hand along her neck, soothing her with a soft murmur. "Good girl," I whispered, my voice barely a breath against the wind. She responded, relaxing beneath me as I guided her into a smooth canter, the world blurring around us.
The valley stretched out before me, golden in the fading light of the late afternoon. The sun kissed the tops of the hills in the distance, painting everything in a warm, amber glow. The scent of wildflowers mixed with the earthiness of the land, and for a moment, everything else—every question, every concern, every responsibility—faded away.
It was just me, my horse, and the rhythm of the ride, the steady beat of hooves echoing in my chest, the land stretching out beneath us.
Maybe Dad was right. Maybe I asked too many damn questions, always searching for answers, always probing the people around me for the truth. But out here, I didn’t need answers. Out here, there was no politics or agendas, no worries about the ranch or the future. Just the feeling of the wind in my hair, the strength of the horse beneath me, and the peace that came from moving through this vast, wild space.
Maybe it was all I needed for now. Even if just for a few seconds.
—
The air in the tent was thick with the lingering warmth of the day, the soft rustle of the canvas a quiet backdrop to the steady beat of my heart. I could feel the adrenaline still buzzing through me from the ride, like electricity crackling beneath my skin. As I stepped into the tent, the coolness of the air inside was a welcome contrast to the heat outside.
Ryan was sprawled out on the mattress, his back propped up against the pillow, a book in his hands, the words barely registering in his gaze as he read. The sight of him so relaxed, so easy in his own world, made something inside me stir. I knew what I wanted to do with all the energy still coursing through me.
I slipped off my boots, the soft thud of them hitting the floor barely making a sound. With the tent’s flap fluttering shut behind me, I moved toward the bed, the anticipation building with each step. Ryan’s eyes never left the page, but I could feel his attention shifting toward me, the subtle shift of his posture telling me he was aware of my presence.
Without a word, I straddled his hips, my knees sinking into the mattress beside him. His free hand instinctively slid up to my thigh, the warmth of his touch igniting a spark deep in my core, but he didn’t break his gaze from the book. His fingers traced slowly over the fabric of my jeans, his touch light, almost teasing.
“Not going to ask what you’re up to?” he murmured, his voice low, yet steady, as if he was fully aware of the change in the air.
I grinned down at him, feeling the pulse of excitement swell within me. “Maybe I like it better when you don’t ask.”
Ryan’s lips quirked into a smirk as he finally lowered his book, setting it aside on the bed with a deliberate slowness. His gaze met mine—intense, dark with a trace of amusement. “Well, I’m not going to stop you.”
I leaned down just enough to let my lips brush against his ear, whispering, “Good.”
Ryan's breath caught as I moved against him, the heat between us growing with each slow roll of my hips. The intensity in his grip on my thigh tightened, his hand pressing me closer, but he still didn’t say a word. His silence was a response in itself—he was just as lost in the moment as I was.
I let my lips drift from his jaw down the smooth line of his neck, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat under my mouth. Each touch of my lips was deliberate, teasing him just as much as I was teasing myself. His skin was warm beneath my lips, his muscles shifting under my touch as he inhaled sharply, his body responding instinctively to mine.
My hand slid lower, trailing over the hard planes of his chest, fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt before moving lower. The rhythm of my hips was steady, knowing the effect it was having on him, but I was in no rush. I let my fingers graze over his stomach, the muscles beneath tightening at my touch. When I reached his waistband, I let my fingers linger there for a second before I tugged at the button of his jeans, the soft click of it opening a sound that felt far too loud in the quiet of the tent.
Ryan’s breath hitched as my hand dipped lower, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand moved to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was all fire and urgency. I answered it, my own desire growing with each breath, each movement.
I groaned into the kiss as my fingers curled around his hardening length and stroked him in sync with the movement of my hips.
His hand found its way into my hair, gripping tightly as he rolled us over, his weight pressing me into the mattress. The sudden shift in power was thrilling, the warm summer air rushing over my now exposed skin as he peeled my shirt off.
Our kisses grew more frantic, our breathing ragged. The tension between us was palpable, a living force that seemed to charge the very air in the tent. He pulled away briefly, his eyes searching mine in the dim light, looking for any sign of hesitation. But all he saw was want, a mirror to his own. With a growl, he kissed me again, his hand sliding down my side to the zipper of my pants.
I lifted my hips and he slid my jeans down in one fluid motion. My hand still wrapped around him tightened slightly, stroking him as his hips moved with mine.
“Take off your pants,” my voice laced with want. I watched him kick his jeans off. He hovered over me, his muscles defined in the moonlight. I reached up, my hands tracing the lines of his shoulders, down his arms, and back up to his chest, feeling his heart pounding in sync with my own.
He chuckled low, the sound sending vibrations through my chest. He sat back on his heels and took his shirt off, tossing it aside. The sight of him, bare-chested and aroused, was almost too much to handle. I reached out and touched his chest, tracing the lines of his abs down to his cock, which stood proud and thick. I leaned in, my mouth watering, and took him in my mouth.
His fingers tangled in my hair, as I moved my lips and tongue over him. His cock throbbed in my mouth, and it only served to make me want him more. His breathing grew more ragged, and his hips bucked slightly, pushing him deeper into my mouth. The salty taste of him made me moan, the sound vibrating along his length.
“I want to feel you, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he pulled back. He leaned over and kissed me again, deep and claiming. My legs hooked around his hips and he lined himself up with my entrance. With one swift thrust, he entered me, filling me completely. I gasped into his mouth, the sensation of fullness overwhelming. He paused, giving me a moment to adjust, before he began to move again, his hips rocking in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
I raked my nails down his back, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. His thrusts grew deeper, more urgent, and I knew he was close. I felt the tension building within him, the way his grip on my hips tightened and his strokes grew erratic. I tightened my legs around him, urging him on, my own climax building. The world narrowed to just us, the soft rustle of the tent fabric, the crackle of the fire outside.
My walls pulsed around him as I reached the edge. His eyes dark, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he watched my face. Listened to every sound I made as I inched farther and farther over the edge. He slid in and out of me, each stroke hitting the perfect spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my core. I could feel my orgasm building, coiling tightly in my belly, threatening to unravel at any moment.
“Ryan,” I panted, my voice shaky with need. His eyes darkened, and he picked up the pace, driving into me harder. The sensation was too much, and I shattered, my orgasm ripping through me like a storm. I bit down on his shoulder to muffle my scream, my nails digging into his skin.
I felt him pulse inside me, the warmth of his release filling me as he buried his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His hips moved slower as my body clenched around him, draining him fully.
He groaned against my neck as he collapsed on top of me. “Baby,” he muttered still coming down from his high, “you are almost too much when you get into a mood.”
“Did you want to get back to your book?” I squeezed around him once more.
“Fuck that book,” he smirked against my skin.
—
The morning sun peeked over the mountains, casting a warm golden light across the camp as I stepped out of my tent. Ryan was still sleeping, the steady rise and fall of his chest suggesting he was enjoying one of those rare mornings when he could actually sleep in. I let him have it, not wanting to disturb his peace just yet.
I glanced toward the edge of camp, where I saw Dad and Kayce both emerging from their tents, wearing that same stupid, satisfied grin I knew was plastered across my own face.
“Mornin’,” I called out to them.
“Mornin’,” Kayce replied with a chuckle.
From inside their tent, I heard Monica’s voice, a little sleepier than usual. “Baby, come back to bed.”
Kayce shot me a look, raising an eyebrow. “What time’s breakfast?”
Lynell’s voice echoed out from inside my father’s tent, “John?”
“A little later this morning,” Dad answered, his voice tinged with the usual dry humor.
I couldn’t help but shake my head and smile. It was a quiet, simple morning, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this content.
Ryan’s voice called from behind me, thick with that relaxed drawl of someone not quite awake but still wanting your attention. “Come back in here, baby.”
I shot him a teasing look over my shoulder, watching as my father and brother slipped back into their tents, no doubt to continue their morning routines in their own way.
“See you then,” I said, turning back to Ryan in the tent, a smirk playing at the corner of my lips. And with one last glance at the peaceful scene around me, I ducked back inside, eager for the quiet to settle once more.
“You wanna come with us to the cattle auction?” Ryan yawned as he pulled me back in bed.
“That sounds like the strangest date I’ve ever been invited on,” I rested my head on his chest.
“We’re way past the dating phase, baby,” he said.
I smiled against his skin, tracing lazy circles on his chest with my fingertips. "Guess that means I don’t have to pretend to be impressed by the cows, huh?"
Ryan chuckled, his voice still thick with sleep. "Oh no, you definitely do. It’s part of the deal."
I tilted my head up to meet his gaze, amusement dancing in my eyes. "So, let me get this straight—you’re inviting me to spend the day watching a bunch of cattle get paraded around, and I’m supposed to act like it’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever seen?"
"Exactly," he smirked, fingers trailing down my spine. "And if you do a real good job of it, maybe I’ll even buy you a corn dog."
I laughed, pressing a kiss to his jaw before settling back against his chest. "Well, when you put it like that, how could I possibly say no?"
“See, winning you over and not even tryin’ hard,” he glanced at his watch, “we better get moving if we’re gonna see the best cows.”
Reluctantly I climbed out of bed and pulled my night shirt up over my head. Tossing it to the side before grabbing a fresh pair of jeans from my bag.
Ryan propped himself up on one elbow, eyes darkening as he watched me. "You know, baby, you make it real hard to leave this tent when you do that."
I smirked, shimmying into my jeans before reaching for a clean shirt. "And here I thought you were excited about those ‘best cows.’"
"Oh, I am," he said, pushing the covers off and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Just thinkin’ maybe we need a few more minutes before we go see 'em."
I shot him a knowing look as I pulled on my boots. "If we take a few more minutes, we’re gonna miss the auction entirely."
Ryan sighed dramatically, standing and grabbing his own jeans. "Fine, but you owe me for that little tease."
I laughed, tossing his shirt at him. "I’ll buy you a damn corn dog."
He grinned, pulling the shirt over his head. "Now that’s romance."
We rode back to the barn in comfortable silence, the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves against the dirt filling the space between us. As the barn came into view, I swung out of the saddle and handed my reins to one of the ranch hands before making my way to the truck. I could feel Ryan’s gaze lingering on me the whole time, a heat that settled low in my stomach.
I climbed into the passenger seat, buckling up before finally turning to him. “What is that look for?” I asked, catching the lazy grin tugging at his lips.
Colby and Teeter piled into the backseat, bickering about something, but Ryan didn’t take his eyes off me.
“Just thinking about the way you put on your jeans, baby,” he drawled, shifting the truck into gear. His smirk deepened. “Almost as much fun as watching you take them off.”
I quirked a brow, fighting the smile threatening to form. “Really?”
He leaned back, his fingers drumming lazily against the steering wheel. “I said almost,” he murmured, shooting me a knowing look.
From the backseat, Colby groaned. “For fuck’s sake, can y’all stop flirting for five damn minutes?”
Teeter snorted. “Ain’t gonna happen, baby.”
Ryan just chuckled, shifting the truck onto the main road. He reached over, his fingers brushing over my knee before settling back on the wheel. "What can I say? Your man knows what he likes."
I rolled my eyes, but damn if I wasn’t grinning the whole way there.
Lloyd and Rip went inside the auction house to bid on a group of cows. I made my way to the concession stand, buying a few corndogs for the group.
I handed out the corndogs, smirking as I watched Teeter lean in closer to Colby, who was looking more and more like he wanted to melt into the floor.
“So this is almost like a double date,” I chuckled, taking a bite of my own corndog.
Colby shot me a glare. “The hell it is.”
Teeter just grinned, completely unfazed. “Still tryin’ to figure out if he likes girls,” she said through a mouthful of fried batter. “Might still wanna pile-drive one of those boys in my posters.”
Ryan, who had just taken a sip of his drink, choked. “What did she say?”
I patted his back, trying—and failing—not to laugh. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, cowboy.”
Teeter shrugged, unbothered. “I’m just sayin’, keepin’ my options open.”
Colby groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I swear to God, Teeter—”
Ryan leaned into me, shaking his head. “We need to get you some new friends, baby.”
I just grinned, watching Teeter take another huge chomp out of her corndog while Colby debated throwing himself into oncoming traffic. “Oh, come on,” I teased, nudging Ryan. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Hey, y'all,” Rip called over, “let's get these cows loaded.”
I tossed my trash in the bin and made it over to the pins. Rip pointed out which cows were ours to be loaded.
I leaned against the fence, arms folded, watching as Ryan and Colby worked the cattle into the waiting trailer. Their voices carried over the dusty air, sharp yips and calls guiding the herd.
“Hey, Colby! Get that Charolais—it ain’t ours!” Rip’s voice cut through the commotion, pointing at the light-colored cow pushing its way in with our heifers.
Colby spun, cursing under his breath as he tried to cut the cow off, but the damn thing was stubborn, dodging his attempts like it was enjoying the game.
Before I could even think about making a comment, Teeter was already in motion. With surprising agility, she hopped the fence and landed in the pen, boots kicking up dust as she charged toward the stray.
“Git, ya creamy son of a bitch!” she hollered, arms flailing as she tried to redirect it back where it belonged.
Ryan glanced at me, shaking his head with a grin. “You ever seen anyone handle a cow like that?”
I smirked. “I don’t know what’s funnier—the way she’s doing it or the fact that it’s actually working.”
The Charolais huffed and finally turned, trotting back toward its rightful pen, with Teeter in hot pursuit, shouting a string of words I was pretty sure weren’t real.
Colby wiped a hand down his face. “I swear to God, Teeter—”
She clapped him on the shoulder, smacking a little too hard. “You’re welcome, baby.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Just another day at the office, huh?”
“We takin’ them to the new pens?” I asked, already knowing it’d be my job to inspect them once we got there. With Jimmy out of commission, I’d lost my usual helper for the dirty work.
Rip nodded, wiping the sweat off his brow. “We’ll be right behind y’all.”
I climbed back into the passenger seat of the truck, the scent of dust and cattle thick in the air. Teeter and Colby piled into the back, the trailer rattling as the cows shifted inside.
“Y’know,” Teeter started, kicking her boots up against the seat, “I ain’t sayin’ I should get a raise or nothin’, but savin’ y’all’s asses back there should at least get me a free beer.”
Colby snorted. “You can’t charge for something you caused in the first place.”
“I ain’t the one who let a damn Charolais slip in with our heifers, Colby.”
I smirked, buckling my seatbelt. “I’ll buy you a beer if you volunteer to help me clean out the pens.”
Teeter sat up a little straighter. “A six-pack, and I’ll consider it.”
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head as he started the truck. “Ain’t no way in hell that’s happenin’, but nice try.”
As we pulled away from the auction house, dust swirling in the rearview, I let my head fall back against the seat. The work wasn’t done, not by a long shot, but at least it kept me too busy to overthink everything else.
Teeter shoved a wad of Skoal into her mouth, then casually snatched Colby’s coffee cup and spit a stream of dark tobacco juice into it.
“You was done with that, wasn’t ya?” she asked, smacking her lips.
Colby stared at the cup in horror. “I am now,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Teeter grinned, completely unfazed. “How you doin’ over there, baby?”
“Fine, thanks.” His flat tone said otherwise.
She leaned closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. “’Cause you oughta be over here on mama’s lap, but that’s alright,” she teased. “That’s okay.”
I caught Ryan glancing at them in the rearview, his expression hovering somewhere between amusement and secondhand embarrassment. I couldn’t hold back my laughter.
“Y’all think I’m joking,” Teeter added, completely serious.
“No,” Colby muttered, rubbing his temples. “Unfortunately, we don’t.”
The amusement in Ryan’s face dropped when he looked ahead, “What in the fuck?”
There was a row of motorcycles lined against the fence, a group of bikers were drinking and lighting a campfire in the middle of the fucking field.
“They cut the fucking fence,” I told him.
“It’s too early to get in a fight.” Colby slipped off his seatbelt. Knowing that’s exactly what was about to happen. I climbed out with that same understanding.
“Stay in the truck, baby,” Ryan stated.
“The fuck I am,” I gave him a look that said there was no point in arguing.
“Hey, how you doing?” Ryan asked politely as we walked up to them. “Listen, you can’t be here. This is private property.”
“This is a national park,” the leader of the group said.
“That is the national park,” Ryan said, pointing in the direction of the park, “this is the Dutton Ranch.”
“Sign says Yellowstone,” the leader retorted. “With a big fucking Y on it.”
“It’s the Yellowstone Dutton Ranch,” Ryan stated. “I need y’all to move across the road. Or I’m gonna have to cite you for trespassing.” Ryan slipped his badge out from his shirt. Teeter and I stepped up closer, we knew this was not going to end with just a stern warning.
One of the ol’ ladies was sizing me up. Another eyed Teeter.
“That badge says ‘livestock agent’.”
“That’s right,” Ryan responded.
“Oh it’s the fucking cow police,” the leader and his group laughed.
“Look if we all just take the testosterone level down about a dozen fucking notches,” I stated, “this is my property and I want you gone. Now.”
“Are you Yellowstone or Dutton, you hick ass whore?” the blonde ol’ lady snapped at me. I felt my fists clench involuntarily at my sides.
“Look at this pink-haired hick mad dogging me,” the ol’ lady said that was eyeing Teeter. “You gotta problem bitch?”
“The fuck you just say to me,” Teeter retorted.
“I called you a fucking bitch,” before the last word fell from her lips Teeter swung.
It all went to hell in a heartbeat.
The leader barely had time to smirk before Teeter’s fist connected with the ol’ lady’s jaw, sending her stumbling backward into the firelight. The moment she hit the dirt, chaos erupted.
“Goddamn it,” Ryan muttered as the bikers surged forward.
I didn’t hesitate. The blonde who called me a “hick ass whore” was already coming for me, nails bared like she was about to claw my damn eyes out. I met her halfway, ducking the first wild swing and slamming my fist into her stomach. She wheezed, doubling over, but I didn’t give her a chance to recover before shoving her to the ground.
Colby and Teeter were already in the thick of it. Teeter had a death grip on the other woman’s hair, throwing punches as the woman shrieked and clawed at her arms. Colby had squared off with one of the bikers, dodging a slow punch before landing one of his own.
Ryan, ever the gentleman, had given the leader a chance to walk away. “Get on your bikes and go before—”
The biker cut him off by throwing a punch.
Ryan ducked, countered, and drove his fist into the man’s face. Blood sprayed as the leader’s nose crunched under the impact. He went down hard, spitting curses as Ryan shook out his hand.
“You dumb son of a bitch,” Ryan sighed.
I turned just in time to see another biker charging at Ryan from behind. “Ryan!” I shouted.
Too late.
The guy tackled him, sending them both crashing to the dirt.
I rushed toward them, but a hand fisted in my hair and yanked me back. The blonde had recovered.
“Alright, bitch,” she hissed, “let’s dance.”
Oh, we were way past dancing.
I elbowed her hard in the ribs and twisted free, throwing a punch right into her smug, heavily-lined face. She staggered back, and I followed up with a second blow, sending her sprawling.
Teeter let out a war cry as she kicked her opponent square in the stomach, sending her crashing into a log. “Y’all picked the wrong goddamn one to fuck with!”
The sound of tires on gravel snapped my attention to the road.
Rip’s truck crashed right through the line of bikes as the truck skidded to a stop.
I let out a breath, my lip curling into a grin. These assholes were about to learn what real trouble looked like. Rip and Lloyd climbed out of the truck, not before Rip grabbed the branding iron from the back.
The leader charged Rip. Rip countered with a heavy swing of the iron in his hand.
The biker staggered to his feet, blood trickling from a fresh gash on his cheek where Rip had clocked him with the branding iron. He spat a mouthful of red into the dirt, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. “Motherfucker,” he growled, his eyes burning with fury. “You’re a fucking dead man.”
He yanked a knife from his belt, the steel glinting under the midday sun as he and another biker stormed toward Rip and Lloyd.
Colby, sensing the shift, acted fast—sweeping the legs out from under the second guy, sending him crashing into the dirt with a pained grunt.
Rip barely flinched as the leader lunged at him, sidestepping at the last second before swinging the branding iron again—this time catching him clean across the jaw. The sickening crack of impact echoed through the clearing, sending the biker stumbling backward, cursing through clenched teeth.
Meanwhile, Lloyd twisted the knife-wielding biker’s arm with practiced ease, forcing the guy to stab himself in his own ass. He let out a strangled yelp, dropping the blade as Lloyd shoved him to the ground with a smirk. “Dumbass,” Lloyd muttered.
Then, the sharp click of a gun being cocked cut through the chaos.
“I’ll fucking shoot you,” one of the bikers snarled, his pistol aimed dead at Rip’s unamused face.
Rip didn’t even blink.
“It’ll be the last fucking thing you ever do,” Lloyd warned, his own gun already drawn, barrel locked on the biker’s skull.
The man hesitated. Too long.
Rip seized the moment, grabbing the pistol from the biker’s grip like he was taking a toy from a toddler. Then, with a vicious swing of the branding iron, he knocked the guy clean out.
“Too late,” Rip muttered, stepping over his unconscious body.
The rest of the bikers were on the ground, groaning in pain, those still conscious throwing up their hands in surrender.
Rip wiped the blood off the branding iron against his jeans before turning his glare to one of the ol’ ladies. “Which one of these assholes is the boss of you?”
She pointed a shaky finger at their leader, who was still clutching his battered face.
Rip stormed over, grabbed the bastard by the front of his vest, and hauled him upright. The man wobbled unsteadily, still dazed.
“I’m gonna give you one last chance,” Rip said, voice low and full of menace. “You get the fuck outta here and don’t come back. Or I’ll bury you right where you fucking stand.”
The leader didn’t need to be told twice.
“Get the fuck outta here,” Lloyd barked, waving his gun for good measure.
Scrambling to their feet, the bikers wasted no time stumbling toward their motorcycles, dragging their unconscious friends with them. They fired up their engines and peeled off, kicking up a cloud of dust in their retreat.
Silence settled over the field, broken only by the distant rumble of engines fading into the horizon.
I let out a slow breath, trying to steady my pulse. My knuckles ached from where I’d landed a few punches, adrenaline still surging through my veins.
Ryan’s arm found its way around my waist. “You good, baby?”
I nodded, shaking out my hands. “Nothing a beer and a hot bath won’t fix.”
Rip sighed, shaking his head as he watched the dust cloud settle. “If those assholes come back, we don’t let ‘em leave walkin’.”
Lloyd spat in the dirt, holstering his gun. “Damn right.”
Colby groaned, rubbing his jaw. “Every time I hang out with y’all, I end up in a fight. Ain’t no way this is normal.”
Teeter grinned, slapping him on the back. “Normal’s for city folk, baby.”
Ryan chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Think that’s enough excitement for one day?”
I exhaled, glancing at the bruised faces and bloodied knuckles of my crew. “Yeah,” I admitted, “I think I’ve had my fill.”
Rip clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You handled yourself alright.”
I smirked up at him. “I do more than just ask too many damn questions.”
“Colby, you alright?” I asked, glancing over at him as he flexed his fingers, wincing with the movement.
“I think I broke my hand,” he muttered, his voice tight with pain.
“Well, I guess that’s better than your heart,” I said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll take a look at it when we get back.”
Colby shot me a grin, despite the discomfort. “Guess it’ll give me a reason to relax for once.”
Ryan, still catching his breath from the chaos, looked over at Rip. “All we did was ask them to leave.”
Rip nodded slowly, scanning the area. “You’re alright?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” Ryan reassured him, his hand resting casually on the door of the truck.
Rip’s gaze softened, but his next words were pointed. “You sure?”
Ryan nodded again, his jaw set. “We’ll survive. It’s just another day in the life.”
“What about you, Teeter?” Rip asked, turning his attention to her as she wiped the blood from her lip. She flashed a grin, unfazed.
“That’s fun,” she said, spitting another mouthful of blood onto the dirt. “I think I’m gonna start a biker-wrangling side gig.”
Rip shook his head with a chuckle, but his expression remained serious. “That’s not what I’m talkin’ about. You alright?”
“I’m fine,” she shrugged, though she winced slightly as she shifted her weight. “Just need a cold drink.”
I shot her a sidelong glance. “I can’t think of anything better to have done this afternoon.”
Teeter snorted a laugh. “Damn right. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
Lloyd, who had been inspecting the damage to the fence, grunted. “You know when they come back here to pick up the rest of their bikes, they’re gonna fuck this field up something fierce.”
Rip’s expression darkened, but he didn’t seem surprised. “Probably so,” he agreed. He slapped his hand on the truck, signaling that it was time to move on. “Let’s go fix the fence. Come on.”
We all piled into the truck, and as we headed toward the broken fence line, the adrenaline from the fight began to fade, leaving behind a tired but satisfying buzz. Rip drove with his usual intensity, but even he couldn’t mask the slight edge of humor that had started to creep into his voice.
“You know,” Rip said as he glanced at me, “we might just need to start charging for this kind of entertainment.”
“I think I’d pay for the front-row seats,” I teased, leaning back into my seat, exhaustion finally catching up to me.
Rip gave a low laugh. “Hell, at least it keeps things interesting.”
As we drove through the ranch, past the quiet fields now littered with the aftermath of the chaos, I couldn’t help but think about how much we’d fought for this land, this place. And no matter who tried to mess with it—whether they came in on foot, on bikes, or in fancy suits—there was always a reckoning waiting for them. No one messed with the Duttons and got away clean.
Not on my watch.

Chapter Text

I sat in my pantsuit, legs crossed, doing my best to look somewhat interested as Jamie stood at the front of the room, his hand on the Bible, being sworn in as Montana’s Attorney General. Dad sat beside me, his expression a perfect blend of boredom and barely concealed disdain. He shifted in his chair, adjusting his tie like it was a noose. If I was struggling to feign interest, he wasn’t even trying.
I leaned slightly toward him. “You look thrilled.”
His jaw twitched, and he barely moved his lips as he muttered, “I’d rather be branding cattle.” After our fight with the bikers, Dad decided he didn’t have time for camping anymore. Whatever moment of peace he’d been trying to carve out for himself was over. The real battle had come knocking, and he had no choice but to answer.
Market Equities—some big-ass fucking deal, according to Beth—had bought Dan Jenkins’ old golf course. But they weren’t looking to build another casino like the chief. No, they wanted something bigger. A whole goddamn city. High-rises, shopping centers, luxury developments. And right in the middle of it all? A massive airport, planted smack dab in the middle of our fields.
They weren’t just trying to buy up land. They were coming for our land.
This was why we needed Jamie in that office. Not because we trusted him, not because we wanted him there—but because he was our best shot at making sure the law worked in our favor. That they couldn’t just legislate us out of existence, steal our home right out from under us.
Whether Jamie saw it that way or not, it didn’t matter. He was in the fight now, whether he liked it or not.
I sat back as the former attorney general and the governor continued the formalities. Jamie’s voice was steady, polished—every bit the politician he always wanted to be. He was made for this.

And yet, as I watched him shake hands and smile for the camera, I couldn’t help but wonder—was he still one of us? Or had he finally sold his soul for a seat at the table?

“Congratulations, Jamie,” I told him, keeping my tone polite but distant as the last of the handshakes and photo ops wrapped up.
He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Thanks.”
Dad barely spared him a glance before turning to the governor. “He’s all yours now.” His voice was dry, void of any warmth or pride. Just a simple statement of fact.
Jamie’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe he expected this, maybe he didn’t. Either way, he wasn’t getting any fatherly approval today.
I gave Jamie a soft smile—not much, but enough to acknowledge the moment—before following Dad out of the governor’s office. The heavy doors shut behind us, and with them, any illusion that Jamie still belonged to this family.

—-
The moment I arrived home, I wasted no time peeling off that stiff pantsuit, swapping it for my favorite pair of jeans and well-worn boots. Before I could think too much, I was already in the saddle, the familiar weight of my horse beneath me as we cut across the field.
Summer camp was over. The tents were coming down, the fires long burned out, and the quiet hum of everyday ranch life was settling back in. Still, I wanted to see it one last time—to get some sort of closure on the weeks I’d spent out here. Weeks where nothing mattered except the cattle in the pastures and the cowboy in my bed.
But now, with camp dismantling around me, I couldn’t help but wonder—where did we go from here?
Would Ryan stay with me in the main house, waking up beside me each morning like he had out in camp? Or would he just assume his place back in the bunkhouse, like nothing had changed? Like we hadn’t changed?
The thought unsettled me more than I cared to admit.
Tate wrinkled his nose, clearly not thrilled about leaving. Can’t blame the kid. Camp life had a way of making everything feel simpler. No walls, no rules—just the land and the work.
“Do we have to go?” he asked, dragging his feet.
“Yeah,” Monica sighed, ruffling his hair. “Your dad has to work in the city.”
“The city sucks ass,” Tate grumbled.
I pressed my lips together, trying to stifle my laughter as Monica shot him a look.
“Sucks what?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Where are you learning this stuff?”
I barely tilted my chin toward the cowboys taking down the last of the tents. She followed my gaze, instantly understanding.
Her scolding was cut short by Ryan’s loud snort of disgust.
“Jesus, look at the size of that fucking spider,” he muttered, stepping back.
My stomach turned. “Please tell me that was not in my fucking tent the whole time.”
“Shit,” Teeter chimed in, squinting at the monster of an arachnid. “You could saddle that sumbitch and ride his fucking ass back to the barn.”
Tate burst out laughing. Monica sighed. And I decided maybe it was a good thing camp was over.
“Alex, you feel like getting your hands dirty?” Rip asked me.
“Guess it depends on what you had in mind,” I pulled my ballcap down to shield my eyes from the sun.
“Gonna go run the fence line,” he said.
I glanced back at the tent, eyeing the massive spider that had claimed it as its own. Better him than me.
"Alright," I nodded, adjusting my ballcap. "I'll go check fence lines with you. Long as that guy stays put."
Rip smirked, shaking his head. "He ain't on the payroll yet."
Jake and Ethan secured the last of the gear onto the pack mules while Lloyd and Teeter finished saddling a couple of gentle horses for Monica and Tate. The camp was nearly packed up, just a few more things left to haul out.
Ryan walked up beside me, resting a hand on my lower back. "You sure you wanna work? Could just ride back with me."
I smirked up at him. "That sounds a hell of a lot like an invitation to be lazy."
"Ain't nothin' wrong with a lazy day, baby."
"Maybe later." I gave his cheek a quick pat before heading toward Rip. "Let’s get to it before I change my mind."
Rip chuckled, "Come on then, cowgirl. Let’s see if you still remember how to fix a damn fence. Colby, Ryan you’re with me too.”
I couldn’t think of anything better as I climbed on the back of my horse and trotted after him.
The sun hung high overhead as we rode out toward the fence line, the scent of dry grass and saddle leather thick in the air. The land stretched out before us, untouched and wide, the kind of space that made you feel both free and small all at once.
Ryan rode up beside me, his hand brushing against mine on the reins. "You ever think about just riding off and not coming back?"
I smirked, glancing over at him. "Depends. You coming with me?"
"Guess that depends on where you're headed," he replied, his easy grin tugging at my resolve.
"Anywhere that doesn't have a busted fence and trespassers tearing up my land."
Rip shot a look over his shoulder. "Y’all plan on actually workin’ or just flirtin’ all day?"
Ryan just smirked, tipping his hat back. "Can’t help it, boss. She’s distracting."
I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue.
Colby rode ahead, scanning the fence line. "Over here," he called, pointing at a section where the wire was sagging, a few posts leaning at an awkward angle.
Rip sighed. "Alright, let’s get to work. Colby, you tighten that wire. Ryan, help me brace that post. Alex, you grab the staples and hammer. We’re fixin’ this right."
I swung down off my horse, already reaching for the tools. "Yeah, yeah, I remember how to do this, Rip."
"Good," he said, smirking. "Then don’t fuck it up."
Sagging fence repaired we climbed back on our horses to travel further down the line.
“What in the fuck?” Ryan exclaimed.
“Nothing good ever comes after you say that, cowboy.” I followed his line of sight. A herd of buffalo were roaming in the field on the other side of the fence.
“You think they wandered over from the park?” Colby asked.
“There’s too many fences between here and there,” I told him.
“Who are these son of a bitches?” Rip cocked his head in the direction of an older cowboy and a younger cowboy sitting on their horses. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Hey!” Rip shouted over to them, and they trotted their horses closer. “Sporting club running buffalo now?”
“Sporting club ain’t runnin’ shit no more,” the older cowboy said.
“Well, then whose are those?” Rip asked. I squinted my eyes, looking out at them. Something familiar about him, I just couldn’t place it.
“Don’t matter 'cause they’re not yours,” the older cowboy said.
“You got permission to run them here?” Rip asked.
“No, I just decided to run some buffalo across a field for no fuckin’ reason,” he responded, his weight shifting in his seat.
When the younger man looked in my direction, I knew who he was.
I was fifteen when I met him in another life.
"Son of a bitch," I muttered under my breath, my grip tightening on the saddle horn.
Clint Fucking Morrow. A name I hadn’t thought about in years, yet the moment his eyes met mine, it all came rushing back. The county fair, the stolen kisses behind the barns, the way he’d sweet-talked me into thinking I was his girl—until I wasn’t. Until I found out I was just another name on a long list of girls who thought the same damn thing.
I swallowed hard, forcing the memory back down where it belonged. Where it had stayed buried for years.
Clint had been my first mistake—the kind you don’t realize is a mistake until it’s too late. I’d been young, stupid, and flattered by his attention, especially after Beth had sent him packing. It hadn’t taken long to realize he didn’t want me, just the idea of me. Someone easier to impress, someone who didn’t see through his bullshit.
And then there was the loft.
I shuddered. It wasn’t something I liked to think about, let alone talk about. It sure as hell wasn’t some sweet, stolen moment I'd wanted to remember. It was rough, rushed, and more about him getting what he wanted than about me at all. I’d walked away feeling used, ashamed, and sore in a way that had nothing to do with my body.
And now here he was, acting like we were old flames instead of a regret I’d spent years trying to forget. I never wanted to see him again. Guess never came sooner than I expected.
“I don’t want my cattle getting brucellosis from those fuckers either,” Rip said, eyes narrowing at Clint.
“Keep your cattle on your side of the fence,” Clint snapped back, voice dripping with contempt.
Rip’s gaze shifted to Wade, a warning flashing in his eyes. “You oughta tell your boy to watch the bass in his voice when he speaks to me.”
“Boy?” Clint’s face darkened, and without a moment’s hesitation, he swung off his horse, jumping over the fence with a snarl. Rip followed suit, meeting him head-on, his fist landing square in Clint’s face with a sickening crack that sent Clint reeling back to the other side of the fence.
Before anyone could catch their breath, Wade pulled a gun—of course, he did. Cowards never fight fair. “I’ll blow your fucking brains all over this field,” Wade spat, his hand shaking with barely contained rage.
“Then fucking do it,” Rip’s voice was cold, unflinching.
Ryan stepped forward, gun drawn, badge visible. “Reserve agent, Livestock Association.” His voice rang out, calm and lethal. “I’ll shoot you where you stand if you don’t put that fucking pistol down.”
Wade chuckled darkly. “Reserve agent? Duttons still running that scam?”
Rip’s eyes never left him. “We don’t know you.”
Wade smirked. “You wouldn’t. But your boss does. And his pretty little daughter over there does.” The way his gaze slid toward me made my skin crawl, but I held my ground. “Tell him Wade Morrow says ‘hello.’”
My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. “My dad wants what you took from him, you asshole.”
Wade gave me a smirk that didn’t touch his eyes. “We’ll see each other again, real soon.”
“You better hope I never see you again,” Rip growled, taking a step closer to him, his fists clenched at his sides.
Wade turned his back, voice dripping with venom. “Next time, fight me fair.”
Rip’s voice was low, dangerous. “Shit, I’ll fight you fair. Get down off your fucking horse.”
“Save that for a rainy day,” Wade shot back, turning his horse around.
Ryan kept his gun trained on Wade as he walked toward him, voice unwavering. “I need proof those buffalo are brucellosis-free.”
“If you’re man enough, come and get it,” Wade sneered, flicking the reins of his horse. “Come on.”
Clint, now a few paces behind his father, looked me up and down, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Still look good on horseback, Alex.”
I couldn’t hold back the anger any longer. “Fuck you, Clint.” I shot back, my voice sharp.
Wade and Clint spurred their horses, riding off with one last glance at us, leaving the field behind them in unsettling silence.
Colby broke the tension. “Why would they leave buffalo here?” he asked, staring out at the herd, his eyes darting to the fence. “They’re gonna tear this place apart.”
“I think that’s the idea,” I muttered, my stomach twisting.
Ryan was still watching me, his gaze sharp but cautious. “Alex,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “What the hell happened with him?”
I shook my head, brushing the thought aside. "Nothing worth talking about."
Rip let out a frustrated grunt. "Well, that 'nothing' just rolled up with a damn buffalo herd. So if there’s somethin’ we need to know, now’s the time."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair, my fingers trembling just slightly. "Clint’s just a cocky little shit who thinks he’s bigger than he is. He used to hang around the ranch when we were kids, thinking he was something special." I glanced at Rip, my voice quieter as I added, “Wade used to work at the ranch.”
Rip’s expression darkened. “That fucker went to prison, didn’t he?”
I nodded, feeling a flicker of heat rise in my chest. “For takin’ what no hand should take, especially when they-” I patted my chest, making sure Rip understood exactly what I meant, “are supposed to be all in. And Clint’s just as slimy as he was back then.”
Ryan’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Did he hurt you?”
The question hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked me that, but this was different. I met his eyes, the concern there so raw and genuine it made my chest tighten. He wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he already knew something was off.
I exhaled through my nose, trying to keep my voice steady. "Not in the way you mean."
Ryan’s fingers tightened around the reins, his gaze not leaving me. I could tell that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but he held his ground. For now.
The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy. Neither of us said anything else, but it felt like the words we weren’t speaking hung in the air.
—--
I walked into the bunkhouse, the familiar scent of sweat and leather mixing with the heavy scent of dust. The noise of the day—the confrontation with Wade and Clint, the damn buffalo, the weight of it all—felt like it was closing in on me. I just needed a moment to let it all go.
But the second I stepped through the door, the music hit me like a wave. The sound of a country song—something with a good beat—poured out of the bunkhouse, filling the space. My body relaxed a little as the chaotic day faded into the background.
And then I saw him.
Jimmy was back.
I stopped, momentarily stunned, before a wide grin spread across my face. "Laramie? What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, my voice laced with surprise and excitement.
She leaned back against the counter, her signature playful grin lighting up her face. "When Mia told me her new boyfriend worked at the Yellowstone," she said, “I knew I had to come.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in my shoulders easing. I walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "It’s been too damn long," I said, squeezing her tightly.
“I know,” Laramie replied, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “It’s been almost two years since you left the rodeo circuit.”
“Has it really been that long?” It dawned on me all that had happened since I came home to take a break from the rodeo and be with my family. The last couple of years had flown by in a blur, and I hadn’t even realized how much had changed until now.
“It has been too fucking long, girl,” I exclaimed, my hands on her shoulders as I pulled back to look at her. The sight of my old friend, standing there in front of me, felt like a piece of the past I didn’t realize I’d missed.
“We keep running into your old friends everywhere today,” Colby chuckled from the corner, clearly amused at the unexpected reunion.
“We helped ourselves to your beer,” the dark-haired woman—who I guessed was Mia, Jimmy’s new girlfriend—said with a mischievous grin. “I hope you don’t mind.”
I raised an eyebrow. I’d need to figure out that story later, but for now, I could appreciate her boldness.
“We can see that,” Colby said, rolling his eyes. “They come with you, Jimmy?”
“Yeah, this was not my idea,” Jimmy said, his voice tinged with resignation.
“Fuck it,” Teeter suddenly announced, throwing her hands in the air before starting to dance. “It’s Friday night somewhere.”
“No, today is Friday,” Colby muttered. “It’s Friday right now.”
“Then Friday’s your lucky fucking day,” Teeter shot back, shimmying her hips in Colby’s direction with a grin that practically begged for a reaction.
I couldn’t help but smirk at the back-and-forth between the two of them. “She’s growing on you, isn’t she?” I cocked a brow at Colby, unable to resist teasing him.
“She’s not growing on me,” Colby shot back, but I could hear the hint of amusement in his voice. “Okay, fine. She’s got a couple of moves and stuff. It’s kinda like she’s a dancer. She studied.”
“Where in the fuck did she study dancing?” Ryan exclaimed, his eyes wide. “The fucking sheepers’ cabin?”
Laramie swayed over to Lloyd, her presence always commanding attention. I smirked again, watching as she charmed him like she always did. Same girl, new place.
“Fucking barrel racers,” Jake muttered under his breath, clearly trying to suppress his laughter.
“You’re getting the joke now, aren’t you, Jimmy?” Ryan chuckled, shooting a glance toward Jimmy as he watched Laramie work her magic.
“So which one is yours?” Laramie asked with a coy smile, her eyes scanning the room, landing on each cowboy like they were potential contenders.
“That one,” I motioned toward Ryan, a proud grin on my face.
Laramie’s eyes immediately followed my gesture, and she took her time scanning his body, her smile widening as she took in the view. “I can see why you waited around for that one,” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes.
I shot her a playful glare, but there was no mistaking the pride I felt in the way she looked at him. He was mine, and damn proud of it.
Ryan pulled me into his lap, a grin tugging at his lips. "Your friend is interesting."
"You have no idea," I smiled back, teasing him a little as I settled in.
Laramie, ever the hostess, lined up some shots on the table and passed them around. The energy in the room was buzzing, everyone finding their groove as the night wore on.
"I don’t understand," Ryan shouted over the noise, his voice tinged with confusion as he watched Jimmy getting cozy with Mia.
"Honestly, man, neither do I," Jimmy replied, not even looking up from where he was sharing a kiss with Mia.
Ryan let out a low whistle. "That is shocking to me," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.
I couldn’t help but laugh at Ryan’s surprise. “What’s wrong, cowboy? It’s like you've never seen two people dumb and in love.”
“We’re not like that are we?” he asked.
“Yes, you are fucking worse,” Colby called over.
Ryan raised an eyebrow at Colby’s comment, but before he could respond, I turned toward him and pressed a kiss to his lips, silencing him for a moment. The kiss was quick, but enough to remind him of where we were—together, in this mess of a world we’d carved out.
Colby whistled, “God, you two are like a walking Hallmark movie.”
Ryan pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Colby. "You know, I’m starting to think Colby’s the real romantic here."
"Don’t flatter yourself," Colby shot back with a grin, taking a swig of his drink. "I’m just here for the entertainment."
I watched as Teeter danced at him. Not with him but at him. And he was watching her intently, “Looks like you are enjoying a front-row seat.”
Colby groaned but still kept his eyes glued on the sway of Teeter’s hips.
I raised an eyebrow, watching the scene unfold. "Seems like Colby’s getting the best show of the night," I teased, leaning in toward Ryan.
Ryan smirked, his gaze flicking between me and Colby. "I think Colby’s got a thing for Teeter’s... 'style.'"
Colby groaned again, clearly trying to stay focused on whatever conversation he was having with Jimmy, but his eyes kept drifting back to Teeter's wild, unrestrained dance moves. "She’s gonna break something," he muttered, though there was a definite hint of admiration in his voice.
"Can’t deny it, can you?" I chuckled, leaning back against Ryan. "You’re more interested in Teeter’s moves than you care to admit."
Colby shot me a side glance but said nothing, instead opting to take another swig of his drink, pretending like he wasn’t entirely absorbed in the situation. But the way his eyes followed Teeter's every step made it obvious—he was hooked.
Teeter, for her part, was oblivious to Colby’s growing fascination, completely lost in the music as she spun and swayed. But every time her gaze met his, there was a playful glint in her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“You know,” I whispered to Ryan, “I think Colby’s about to fall hard.”
Ryan snorted, watching Colby shift uncomfortably in his seat. “He might need a crash course in how to handle Teeter before it gets messy.”
I just shook my head, amused by how easily Colby was falling for her chaotic energy. "It’s gonna be fun watching him try."

Chapter Text

“Don’t start anything while you’re out there, please,” I told Ryan. He was going out with my brother and father to confront the Morrows.

“I won’t, baby,” he said as he strapped on his Kevlar Livestock agent vest. “It’s just a show of force.”

“You sure that’s all it’s gonna be?” I eyed him, “That’s a lot of protection you got on, cowboy.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, “Now you go have fun with your friends.”

“Yes, sir,” I gave him a wink and headed out to the truck. Lloyd and Jimmy had loaded up our horses in the trailer. I was riding out with Mia and Laramie to the fairgrounds to practice barrels. Girls' Day is what Laramie called it, but with Lloyd and Jimmy tagging along to help with our gear.

“You know I don’t run barrels, right?” I cocked my head at the arena.
“Oh, I know. You’re way too disciplined for barrel racing,” Laramie teased with a smirk. “That’s why Mia and I will show you what we got first,” she motioned between the two of them, “then you can show us what you’ve been working on.”
The truth was, I hadn’t been working on much—just running the same routines from my last few shows. I hadn’t competed, so I hadn’t pushed myself.
And maybe that was the problem.
“I saw this trick rider last week jump through fire,” Mia said. “You ever do anything like that?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. I’d seen girls on the circuit pull off stunts like that. “Too dangerous.”
Even as I said it, I felt a flicker of something—was it doubt? Or the itch to prove to myself that I still had more in me?
I watched as the two cut around the barrel like they were walking. Leaning against the gate, with Denim’s reins in my hands. He shifted beside me, like he thought he had something to prove too.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered to him.

“Will you toss me a water, babe?” Laramie said sweetly to Lloyd. Who obediently grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and tossed it to her.

“Two dances,” Lloyd grumbled, “and here I am saddling their horses, sitting in the bleachers watching ‘em.”

“Y’all didn’t.. Uh…?” Jimmy asked, I cocked my head to hear the answer to that question.

“Of course not, she ain’t even 25 years old,” Lloyd answered. I was relieved to hear the answer.

“Thank God,” I muttered.

I sucked in a breath and lead Denim into the arena. My heart thumped wildly in my chest. I double-checked his cinching and straps. “Alright, buddy. You ready for this?” I slipped my leg into the strap and hung onto the pummel as he started to gallop around the arena. Everything outside of the thumping of his hooves on the dirt faded away. I laid across his back, lifting myself up into a handstand before seating myself in the saddle.

The more I moved, the more I felt like me again. Every trick flowed effortlessly, each motion instinctual, Denim responding to my cues without hesitation. No fire, no gimmicks—just skill, just trust. Who needed flash when you had talent?
As I slowed Denim to a trot, Laramie leaned against the fence, arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face.
“Felt good, didn’t it?” she asked.
I exhaled, patting Denim’s neck. “Yeah, it did.”
“You gotta get back out there, Alex.” Her tone wasn’t pushy, just honest.
“Maybe,” I said, but the word felt hollow.
I thought about Ryan, about what we had built since I came back. The quiet mornings, the shared laughter, the kind of love that had settled deep in my bones. Things changed the last time I was on the road—distance had a way of unraveling even the strongest ties. But now, we were stronger. More committed.
Still… could what we had survive if I left again?
My phone rang, pulling me from my doubts. Kayce.
“Commissioner Dutton,” I smirked as I answered the phone, “How can I help you?”
“You busy?” Kayce’s voice was serious. He’d been far too serious lately.
“What do you need?” I asked sincerely.
“Can you meet me at the reservation?” he asked. “There’s a missing girl.”
“I’m on my way,” I told him. I looked over at Lloyd. “Can you make sure Denim gets settled in the barn for me? I gotta help my brother.”
“Everything alright?” he asked.
“I hope it will be,” I responded.
“I’ll take care of him for you, darlin’,” he replied.
Lloyd’s reassurance was enough for me to swing down off Denim without hesitation. I handed him the reins, giving my horse a quick pat before heading for my truck.
“Be careful,” Laramie called after me, her tone less playful now.
“I always am,” I threw back, though we both knew that wasn’t exactly true.
Sliding behind the wheel, I wasted no time peeling out of the lot, dust kicking up behind me.
Kayce wouldn’t call me for something like this unless it was serious. And if a girl had gone missing on the reservation, I knew exactly what kind of trouble we might be walking into.
I pressed harder on the gas.
I just hoped we weren’t already too late.
I pulled the truck to a stop. A sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Kayce, Ryan, and Agent Hendon were leading horses from a trailer.

“I saddled one up for you,” Ryan handed me the reins.

“Thanks. How did everything go this morning?” I asked.

“It went better than expected,” he responded.

“That’s good thinking,” the reservation police officer told Kayce.

“Miss Dutton,” the Chairman of Broken Rock Reservation said to me, “Wish we were meeting under different circumstances. But I appreciate you’re coming out to help.”

This man was supposed to be my father’s enemy. But after everything that had happened over the last few years. Their feud seemed slight.

“Yeah, me too,” I told him. “Wish there was more that I could do.”

“It all helps,” he responded.

We gathered around the officer as he called out, “Alright, listen up! Everybody stays ten feet apart. Don’t just look for Sila,” he put a name to the missing girl’s face, “you look for clothes, footprints, a set of keys, anything. If you find something, do not touch it. Just raise your hand and shout ‘Hey!’ and one of the officers will come to you. Alright, let’s go.”

I climbed on the back of my horse, silently scanning the ground, looking for any sign of the missing girl. I lost track of the miles we rode, not finding anything. My heart sank when I saw the coyote in the distance.

My stomach twisted as I nudged my horse forward, my throat dry. The coyote stood motionless for a moment, watching us approach before slinking back into the brush.
Ryan must have seen it, too, because he turned in his saddle, calling out, “Kayce!”
Kayce was already headed in our direction, his expression grim. I swallowed hard and swung down from my horse, boots hitting the dirt with a dull thud.
“Over here!” I shouted, just like the officer had instructed.
The others closed in, but I didn’t move. My eyes locked on the patch of disturbed earth near where the coyote had been. Pieces of fabric, dirty and torn, peeked out from beneath the brush.
I clenched my jaw.
I’d been hoping we’d find signs she was still alive.
Instead, we’d found proof she wasn’t.
“Tell them to stay back,” Chairman Rainwater said, his voice heavy with sorrow as he addressed the officer. “The scene is yours, Ben. Let’s go tell her mother.”
The weight of it settled deep in my chest, sharper than I expected. If my father weren’t an important, wealthy white man, that could have been me.
—---

I sat next to Ryan on his bunk, the glow of the old TV flickering across the room as Guy on a Buffalo played. After the kind of day we’d had, we needed something light and ridiculous. And this? This was peak ridiculous.
“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jimmy chuckled, pointing at the screen as the man on the buffalo clumsily maneuvered through the wilderness.
“You’ve done a lot of stupid things, Jimmy,” I teased, laughing at both him and the absurdity of the show. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s so good,” Ryan added, grinning.
“You just don’t appreciate quality filmmaking,” Colby chimed in, his arms crossed like he was defending some kind of cinematic masterpiece.
Teeter leaned forward, eyes fixed on the screen with a lopsided grin. “I feel like he kinda looks like some kinda sexy Jesus on that buffalo, ridin’ off into the sunset.”
Colby shot her a look. “No one understands what you’re saying.”
“You understand what I’m saying, baby,” she fired back with a playful wink.
“How is he even staying on that thing?” Jimmy asked, eyes squinting at the screen like the answer might reveal itself.
“Well, he can’t buck,” Lloyd answered, his arm casually slung around Laramie’s shoulders.
“Really?” I turned to him, genuinely curious.
“They can’t buck, and they can’t rear up,” he continued. “But they can roll over on your ass.”
“I need this whole dynamic explained to me,” Ryan said, glancing between Lloyd and Laramie like he had walked into the middle of an unsolvable mystery.
“Well, when two people like each other very much—” I started, smirking.
“It must be the wobble of the earth,” Colby cut me off, deadpan. “Creating a magnetic shift—”
“Hey, this is where he gets shot,” Lloyd interrupted, nodding toward the screen.
“Hey, look out!” Jimmy shouted at the TV, like the guy had any chance of hearing him.
Teeter suddenly perked up, pointing at the screen. “Hey, we outta ride them buffalo out there on that field.”
“What field?” Laramie asked.
“Out back, behind the corral,” Teeter said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Where are your corrals?” Laramie asked, clearly trying to make sense of the sudden buffalo discourse.
“There’s thirty or so back there,” I added, earning a confused look from Ryan.
“Whoa, she speaks and they understand her?” he motioned between me and Teeter like we were speaking some ancient dialect. “How is that even possible?”
Mia let out a laugh.
“It’s the wobble of the earth, I’m telling you,” Colby repeated, shaking his head like we were all fools for doubting him.
“Girl brains work on their own frequency,” I said, throwing Ryan a smirk. “Don’t try to understand it.”
“Wait—what buffalo?” Lloyd asked, his brow furrowing.
“The resort put ‘em out there,” Ryan explained. “And they got this mean old bastard watching them.” He glanced at me. “What was his name, baby?”
“Wade Morrow,” I said, watching as Lloyd’s expression shifted the second he heard it.
“Yeah, they’re his buffalo,” Colby confirmed.
A beat of silence passed before Lloyd suddenly grinned. “Who feels like ridin’ a buffalo?”
“Not me,” Ryan answered instantly.
I quirked a brow at him. “Where’s your sense of adventure, cowboy?”
“I would, but—” Jimmy gestured to his neck brace. “Doctors say I gotta take it easy.”
“I’m not supposed to drink and ride buffalo,” Colby added with a solemn nod. “It’s a whole thing.”
“Fuck it, I’ll ride the buffalo,” Teeter declared, standing up like she was preparing for battle.
“We’ll ride the buffalo, and you ladies can watch,” I said, already grabbing my jacket.
“This is gonna be fun,” Mia grinned, standing with me.
“Wait—this is happening?” Colby scrambled off his bunk, looking mildly panicked.
“Looks like it,” Ryan smirked, shaking his head.
And just like that, our night took a sharp left turn—from watching a guy on a buffalo to actually riding one.
“I’ve done some dumb shit in my life,” Colby muttered as he climbed down off his bunk, trailing behind us.
“This is gonna be dumber,” Ryan shot back, shaking his head.
I glanced at Lloyd, the self-appointed expert in this madness. “Alright, so what’s the best way to do this?”
“Well, you can’t rope ‘em by the neck—you’ll crush their larynx,” Lloyd explained like this was common knowledge. “Gotta rope ‘em by the horns.”
“And then what?” Ryan asked, already regretting being here.
“Then you pull ‘em to a stop, jump on, and off you go,” Lloyd said like it was as simple as saddling a horse.
“I’m just here to watch,” Ryan clarified.
“Alex, you go first,” Laramie turned to me, daring me to back down.
“Fuck it,” I shrugged, grinning. “Somebody catch me a buffalo.”
Mia and Laramie burst out laughing.
“We can’t be sober for this,” Colby declared, taking a swig from his flask.
“Shit, what a baby bunch,” Teeter snorted.
And with that, we took off into the field, swinging lassos like we had a clue what we were doing. It was chaos—buffalo snorting, horses dancing beneath us, and us hollering like idiots.
Ethan and Teeter were the first to pull one to a stop. The massive beast huffed, nostrils flaring, but it didn’t bolt. I didn’t give myself time to hesitate—I hopped off my horse and ran straight for it.
The buffalo lowered its head, almost like it was inviting me on.
So I climbed on.
For a split second, I felt like a damn legend. Then it took off, jolting beneath me as it tried to shake me loose. I gripped tight, laughing wildly as it darted, twisted, and finally—finally—sent me flying into the dirt.
I hit the ground hard, but I was still laughing.
“You alright, baby?” Ryan called, already making his way toward me.
“That was awesome,” I grinned, brushing dirt off my jeans as I got to my feet. “Who’s next?”
“Atta girl,” Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head like he’d seen it all before.
“Fuck me, baby,” Teeter whooped, already swinging her lasso as we galloped back into the field, hungry for round two.
The night was young, and so were we—stupid, reckless, and absolutely loving every second of it.
—--

“I cannot believe you did that,” Ryan chuckled as we walked back into the bunkhouse. He handed me a beer before sitting on the edge of his bunk.

“I’m full of surprises, cowboy,” I smirked as I straddled his hips.

“Watch your head, baby,” he laid back so I wouldn’t wack my head on the top bunk.

“Wouldn’t have to worry about my head if you’d come back with me,” I nodded toward the house.
Ryan smirked, his hands settling on my hips. “Tempting, but I like it right here.”
I let out a soft hum, running my fingers through his hair. “Guess I’ll just have to convince you.”
“Oh yeah?” His grip tightened, eyes dark with amusement. “And how do you plan on doing that, little troublemaker?”
I leaned down, my lips brushing against his. “You’ll see.”
I rolled my hips slowly grinding into him. He smirked pressing up into me, “I’m not quite convinced.”

I leaned down trailing kisses along his jaw, “If we were in my bed I could ride you like I want to.”

Ryan let out a low chuckle, his hands sliding up my back. “That so?”
I nipped at his earlobe before whispering, “Mhm. And you wouldn’t have to worry about keeping quiet either.”
His grip on me tightened, a quiet groan rumbling in his chest. “Damn, baby,” he muttered, shifting beneath me. “You drive a hard bargain.”
I smiled against his skin. “So, are you convinced yet?”
Ryan exhaled sharply, his fingers digging into my hips. “Hell yeah,” he rasped, “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
“Where are you sneaking off to?” Laramie cocked a brow, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.
“Gonna take my chances riding a cowboy,” I shot back, tugging Ryan by the hand.
“Save a horse, right?” She giggled.
“Something like that.” I tossed her a wink over my shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”
Ryan let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening around my fingers as we stepped out of the bunkhouse. The night air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the heat simmering between us. I wasted no time slipping my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me. My lips met his in a kiss that was anything but gentle—hard, hungry, and full of everything I wanted to do to him.
His hands gripped my waist tight, pressing me flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his body firm against mine. By the time I pulled back, I was breathless, my heart hammering.
“You ready?” I murmured, my fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.
Ryan’s smirk was downright sinful. “Lead the way, baby,” he drawled, then narrowed his eyes playfully. “How drunk are you?”
“Only a little,” I admitted, giggling as I stumbled slightly. “But I’d want to fuck you stone sober.”
His thumb brushed my cheek, his expression softening for just a second. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.
As soon as we stepped inside, he spun me around, pressing me against the door. His hands roamed my sides, his lips dancing just beneath my ear. “Still sure about this, baby?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
I tangled my fingers in his shirt, pulling him closer. “More than sure,” I whispered. “Now quit talkin’ and kiss me.”
“So bossy when you’re drunk,” Ryan murmured against my neck, his lips trailing warmth along my skin. His smirk was damn near smug as he hooked an arm beneath my knees and lifted me effortlessly into his arms.
I bit my lip to stifle a giggle, the weightlessness making my head spin. The last thing I wanted was to wake my brothers—or my sister.
Ryan carried me through the quiet house with steady, purposeful strides, shifting me slightly as he reached my bedroom door. He nudged it open with his shoulder, stepping inside before easing me down onto my feet. The door clicked shut behind him, the room swallowed in shadows and the soft glow of the moon spilling through the window.
My fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it free from where it was tucked into his jeans. His breath hitched, just a fraction, as I worked the buttons with practiced ease.
“You in a hurry, baby?” he teased, his hands skimming down my sides.
“Just evening the score,” I murmured, my lips brushing his jaw. “You got me all flustered downstairs.”
His low chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh sweetheart,” he drawled, his hands slipping beneath my shirt, fingertips teasing bare skin, “you haven’t seen flustered yet.”
I pressed my lips to his shoulder, trailing soft kisses across his warm skin as I pushed his shirt down his arms, letting it slip to the floor. The heat of him, the steady rise and fall of his breath, sent a rush of anticipation through me.
Ryan’s fingers worked the buttons of my top, his touch both eager and unhurried. The fabric parted, his hands sliding beneath it, mapping familiar territory.
I grabbed him by the belt, giving a playful tug as I stepped backward toward the bed. His smirk deepened, but he let me lead, his hands settling on my hips as he followed.
“Still bossy,” he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.
I smirked right back, pulling him even closer. “And you love it.”
“You know I do, baby,” his eyes darkened as he watched me undo my belt, pop the button on my jeans and slid them down my thighs. Trying to keep from falling as I toed off my boots.
Ryan chuckled, his hands settling on my hips to steady me as I kicked off my jeans. His gaze was heavy, lingering on every inch of newly exposed skin.
“You’re impatient tonight,” he teased, his voice low and rough.
I smirked, reaching behind me to unhook my bra, letting it slide from my shoulders. His eyes darkened further, hunger flashing across his face.
“You still have these on,” I grumbled, tugging at the waist of his pants.
He caught my hands, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my knuckles before letting them go. “Then why don’t you do something about it?”
I pulled at his belt, yanking it free of his jeans before tugging at the button, I lowered his zipper agonizingly slow. My eyes locked on his as I pushed them down his hips. He shook his head and kicked off his boots stepping the rest of the way out of his pants.
“Much better,” my arms found their way around his neck again, my lips pressed against his as I turned us, then pushed him backward onto the bed.
Ryan landed on the mattress with a low chuckle, his hands immediately reaching for me as I climbed onto his lap. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles over my bare thighs, but his eyes were anything but lazy—dark, intense, burning with something that sent a shiver down my spine.
“You got me right where you want me, huh?” he murmured, his smirk teasing.
“Damn right I do,” I breathed, rolling my hips just enough to feel the way his breath hitched.
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes as I rolled my hips again, his length gliding over my clit with each movement. I let out a groan as I teased myself with him.
Ryan let out a low curse, his grip on my hips tightening as I kept up the slow, teasing rhythm. His breath was ragged, his restraint hanging by a thread.
"You're killing me, baby," he groaned, his fingers digging in just enough to make me shiver.
I smirked, eyes still closed as I lost myself in the friction, the heat building between us. "I thought you liked a little torture."
He exhaled a sharp breath. "Not when it's me suffering."
I opened my eyes, locking onto his dark, hungry gaze. A smirk tugged at my lips as I leaned forward, my hair falling around us like a curtain.
"Don’t worry, cowboy," I murmured, voice laced with promise. "I know how to make you feel better."
My hand slid between us, fingers wrapping around his throbbing length. I teased the tip with featherlight strokes, feeling him twitch beneath my touch. His breath hitched, his grip tightening on my hips as I lifted myself just enough to position him at my entrance.
Slowly, I sank down, inch by inch, until he filled me completely. A deep moan escaped my lips, my body shuddering at the delicious stretch. His hands flexed against my hips, fingertips pressing into my skin as I settled over him.
“Fuck,” he rasped, his voice thick with need.
I rolled my hips, savoring the friction, the way his breath stuttered beneath me. Every slow, deliberate movement sent a shiver through me, building heat between us. I braced my hands on his chest, nails grazing his skin as I found my rhythm, teasing us both with the steady, intoxicating pace.
My hips rolled, and a shudder ran through me as my walls tightened around him, the pleasure coiling tighter with every movement. His grip on my hips turned bruising, his restraint unraveling as he thrust up into me, deeper, harder—hitting that perfect spot that sent my body spiraling.
A sharp cry left my lips as the tension snapped, waves of pleasure crashing through me. My fingers dug into his chest, my body trembling as I rode out the high, gasping his name like a prayer.
Ryan rolled me onto my back, his body pressing firmly against mine as the aftershocks of my release still rippled through me. His breath was hot against my neck, his movements desperate, hungry—driving into me with a force that stole what little breath I had left.
My nails raked down his back, leaving faint trails along his skin as he pushed me toward the edge again, my body responding instantly to the relentless pace. His rhythm faltered, a strangled groan escaping his lips as he buried himself deep one final time, his release spilling into me.
For a moment, neither of us moved, our bodies tangled, hearts hammering in sync. His breath was ragged against my skin, his grip on me unyielding, as if letting go wasn’t an option.
—--
I was still asleep when Ryan slipped out of my bed. I clung to the warmth of his side of the bed for an hour or so longer before I finally got up. I showered and looked at my phone as I brushed my teeth.

Hey baby, didn’t want to wake you. You looked so beautiful sleeping there. Had to get to out to the field. Love you.

A soft smile tugged at my lips as I read his message. My heart swelled, warmth spreading through my chest. I ran my thumb over the words before typing a quick response.
Love you too, cowboy.
Setting my phone down, I rinsed my mouth and finished getting ready. The house was quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that only came in the early morning hours before the day truly started. I padded barefoot to the kitchen, the scent of coffee lingering in the air. Pouring myself a cup, I leaned against the counter, staring out the window toward the fields.
I could just make out Ryan in the distance, working alongside the others, his movements sure and effortless. The sight of him, so at home out there, sent a warmth through me that had nothing to do with the coffee in my hands.
Maybe I’d ride out there later. Or maybe I’d just let him come find me when the work was done. Either way, I knew where I belonged.

“What’s going on with you, Alex?” Jamie’s voice asked from the kitchen island. I was so lost in my own bliss I didn’t even notice him sitting there.

“Just trying to be happy,” I turned back to look at him, “as long as I can. What are you working on?” I quirked a brow. “Don’t tell me, it’s some deep government secret you can’t tell me about 'cause I won’t understand it, right?”
Jamie sighed, rubbing his temple as he glanced at the stack of papers in front of him. “It’s not a secret, Alex. Just politics.”
I snorted, taking a sip of my coffee. “Same thing.”
His lips twitched like he wanted to smile but was too weighed down by whatever was on those pages. “It’s a land dispute. A pretty big one.”
I rolled my eyes. “When is it ever not a land dispute?”
Jamie leaned back in his chair, studying me. “You seem different.”
I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. “Maybe I just don’t want to be miserable like the rest of you.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s not fair.”
“No?” I crossed my arms. “Dad’s been fighting the same war since before we were born. Kayce’s drowning in it, and you—” I motioned to the documents. “You’re knee-deep in the legal version of it. I get it, Jamie. But I don’t want that to be my whole life.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “I hope you get to keep that happiness, Alex. I really do.”
Something in his voice made me pause. He wasn’t just humoring me—he meant it. And for the first time in a long time, I saw something in Jamie’s eyes that wasn’t ambition or resentment. It was exhaustion. Maybe even regret.
I softened. “You should try it sometime, you know. Being happy.”
His laugh was short, humorless. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
I took another sip of my coffee, watching my older brother drown in responsibilities I had no interest in carrying. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
The door swung open hard, slamming shut behind him. I started to say Good morning, but the look on Dad’s face stopped me cold. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with something more than anger—disgust, maybe. Hatred? Whatever it was, Jamie was in for it.
Jamie, oblivious, looked up from the papers in front of him. “Oh, good. I wanted to talk to you about something. Market Equities made an—”
Dad cut him off with a sharp, bitter laugh. “Of all the promises I’ve made in my life, son…” His voice was dangerously low, edged with something I hadn’t heard in a long time. “If I didn’t love your mother so much, I’d break it. I swear to God, I would.”
Jamie stiffened, eyes darting up in confusion. “Did something happen? I don’t understand.”
I took a cautious step back, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. Whatever my brother had done, it was bad.
Jamie, sensing the growing storm, inched around the kitchen island, using it as a barrier. He was crowding me into the counter now, as if I could somehow shield him from our father’s wrath.
Dad rounded the island, relentless. “What happens in thirty years when you, your brother, and your sisters are too old to fight for this place? When Tate has to fight for it alone?”
Jamie swallowed hard. “What—what are you talking about?”
Dad’s voice grew harsher, his fury barely contained. “Lee wouldn’t marry. Didn’t want kids. I doubt you ever will, either.” He shot Jamie a glare like he was looking at a stranger. Then, his eyes flicked to me. “Now your sister can’t. And she can’t—because of you.”
The world seemed to tilt under my feet.
Jamie went pale, the realization hitting him like a freight train. “Dad, wait.” He shoved past me, putting me between him and our father.
“Quit moving,” Dad barked.
I stood there, stunned. Trying to piece together what he was saying, why Jamie was so scared.
Jamie stumbled over his words, panic setting in. “I didn’t—I didn’t—fuck.” His hands trembled as he scrubbed them down his face. “She came to me. She was scared. I was scared.”
Dad’s rage exploded. “How could you take that from her, Jamie?” His voice shook the room. “Who the fuck did you think you were?”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Kayce’s voice cut in as he entered the room, eyes scanning the scene. “What’s going on?”
Dad didn’t even look at him. “Ask your brother.” Then he turned and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
I turned to Jamie, my stomach twisting. “Jamie?” My voice came out unsteady, pleading for answers.
Jamie didn’t answer. He turned, eyes wild, and drove his fist straight through the stained glass window of the door.
Kayce lunged for him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “What the hell, man?”
Jamie’s breath came in ragged gasps, his shoulders shaking. And then, like something inside him cracked wide open, he sobbed. Loud, gut-wrenching, broken.
“All I do is give,” Jamie choked out, voice raw. “I hate him. I fucking hate him.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw movement in the doorway.
Beth.
She leaned against the frame, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched our brother unravel.
And suddenly, I understood.
Whatever Jamie had done—whatever Dad was furious about—Beth had been waiting for this moment.
And from the look on her face, the fallout was exactly what she wanted.
I left my brothers behind, shoving past Beth without so much as a glance. I couldn’t deal with this—not now. Not when, for the first time in so long, I had felt like my life was finally falling into place. But the illusion I had built—the fantasy that we could ever be a happy, whole family—was starting to crumble.
Barefoot, I stepped out into the cool grass, my breath hitching as I spotted my father. He stood there, shoulders heavy, head bowed as if the weight of the whole world had finally become too much.
I slowed my steps, watching him stare out over the land, the very thing he’d sacrificed everything for.
“Everything I’ve fought for,” Dad muttered, voice rough, “was for nothing.”
“It’s not for nothing, Dad.” My voice was quiet, but the words carried. I could feel the burden he bore, the weight of the legacy he had tried so hard to secure for us—only to watch it slip through his fingers.
His gaze didn’t waver from the horizon. “You’re so caught up in dreaming, sweetheart,” he said, softer now, almost tired. “And not working on what’s right in front of us.”
I swallowed hard. “Having a bunch of grandkids running around here—that was your dream, Dad.”
His lips pressed into a thin line before he exhaled, nodding. “I know.” He let out a hollow chuckle, shaking his head. “Seeing a part of me live on in you, your brothers, your sister… and in their children. That’s all I ever wanted.” His voice was thick with something I couldn’t quite place—grief, maybe. Defeat. “But I don’t even know if that’s what you want.”
I hesitated, my heart hammering. “That’s because you never asked.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, but I didn’t regret them. “I haven’t had a chance to stop fighting long enough to think about if I want kids. Or if he does.”
Dad finally turned his head, meeting my gaze. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
“Don’t wait too long, honey.” His voice was quieter now, resigned. “You only have so much time.”
I stood there, staring at the man who had built an empire only to realize he might not have anyone left to inherit it. And for the first time, I wondered if he was right.

Chapter Text

“Mornin’,” I groaned as Ryan slid out from under me in his bunk. I stretched, already missing his warmth. “Time to get up already?”
He chuckled, buttoning his jeans. “We could’ve stayed in your bed last night—then you wouldn’t have to wake up so early.”
“And let you sneak out at the crack of dawn?” I smirked, propping myself up on my elbow. “Not a chance. I like watching you get ready.” My eyes trailed down his body as he tucked in his shirt and buckled his belt. I gestured toward him with a lazy wave of my hand. “All of that is fun to watch.”
Ryan grinned, eyes twinkling. “Glad you like what you see, baby. We can sleep wherever you want.”
I reached for him, ready to pull him back into bed. “I love you—” I paused, wrinkling my nose. “But first, I need to brush my teeth.”
Ryan just smirked, shaking his head. “Come find me after, sweetheart.”
I stretched as I climbed out of bed, weaving through the bunkhouse as the guys got ready for the day. Teeter shimmied into her jeans, Mia stretched out lazily on Jimmy’s bunk, and in the corner, Laramie was still curled up in Lloyd’s double bed.
“Don’t get up,” Lloyd murmured, tucking the blankets around her. “Stay as long as you want.”
“Hey, baby,” Teeter drawled, shooting me a grin. “I wish some bronc would break my back so I could lay around in bed all day bumpin’ fuckin’ uglies till noon.” She cut a sly look toward Colby. “Don’t that sound nice?”
Ryan chuckled as he buttoned his shirt. “Just a matter of time.”
Shaking my head, I made my way to the bathroom, pushing the door open. Teeter followed close behind.
“I think you’re starting to wear him down,” I teased, smirking at her in the mirror as I brushed my teeth.
“Inch by fuckin’ inch,” she smirked right back. “He’s a hard nut to crack. But I’m patient.”
Ryan was waiting by the door when I stepped out of the bathroom.
“Hey, you,” I murmured, rising onto my toes to kiss him.
He grinned against my lips. “Minty.”
I rolled my eyes as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I gotta head out—Kayce called,” he said. “Think you can keep this bunch outta trouble while I’m gone?”
“No promises,” I smirked, arching a brow. “Be careful.” Livestock Agent work. Never a dull moment.
“I always am, baby.” He leaned in, brushing his lips over mine again, lingering just a little longer this time. “Needed one for the road.”
I watched as he walked away, shaking my head with a smirk. Damn, I was a lucky woman.
For the first time in a long while, the bunkhouse was quiet. The guys were off doing something, and Jimmy and Rip were taking a rank son of a bitch out to see if Sid Syner’s boy could buck the rodeo out of him.
I took advantage of the rare stillness, pouring myself a cup of coffee before settling at the table with my laptop. Last night’s ride with the girls had reminded me of something—I missed performing. Putting on a real show. And I wanted to try something different.
I wasn’t planning on jumping through fire or anything reckless. But Roman riding? That had my attention.
I knew Denim well enough to know he wouldn’t take kindly to working with another horse by his side. For this to work, I needed two horses that moved in sync—with each other and with me.
I needed two horses with Denim’s style but none of his sass. There was only one man who could find exactly what I was looking for—though he’d try to swindle me in the process. I picked up my phone, already bracing myself for the conversation.
“Well, girl, I was expectin’ your call a long time ago,” Travis drawled the moment he answered. “You know you still got a place with my crew.”
“Yeah, I know. But that’s not why I’m callin’,” I said, cutting straight to the point. “I need a pair of horses. Not one of your five-million-dollar beasts, either. They’ve gotta be able to work together.”
I could practically hear the dollar signs ringing in his head.
“I’ll see what I can come up with,” he said smoothly. “How soon you wanna see ‘em?”
“I’m in no rush. Next time you’re up this way,” I told him, leaning back in my chair. “I’m gonna see about workin’ with some of the ranch horses first. Might not even need you.”
Travis let out a knowing chuckle. “Oh, you need me, Alex. In more ways than one.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not for that, I don’t.”
“Right, right. Forgot—you’re in love.” His voice was all tease, but there was a hint of something else beneath it. “I’ll call if I find a pair worth your time.”
“Appreciate it, Travis.” I ended the call before he could get another smart-ass remark in.

—-------------------------------------

“Sweetheart,” Dad said as we pulled into the diner’s parking lot, “I’m surprised you wanted to come with me.”
I shrugged, a small smile tugging at my lips. “We used to come here all the time after Beth and Jamie went off to school. Guess I’m feeling nostalgic.” Then, lowering my voice, I added, “And they have the best chicken-fried steak.”
Dad chuckled as he put the truck in park. “Don’t let Gator hear you say that.”
I smirked. “Secret’s safe with me.”
We stepped inside, the familiar scent of coffee and fried food wrapping around us like a warm memory. Without thinking, I slid onto the same barstool I used to sit on as a little girl. Dad took his usual seat beside me, just like he always had.
“Doc letting you eat steak again?” the waitress, Maggie, asked.

“Yep, I got a clean bill of health,” Dad told her. “I can eat whatever the hell I want.”

“You still like it rare?” she asked.

“Yep, just pull it out of the cooler, whisper fire, and throw it on my plate,” he answered.

“What’ll you have, Alex?” she gave me a smile.

“I’ll have the steak too, just battered and fried and covered with a ton of gravy, please,” I almost missed being able to swing my legs freely on the stool.

Maggie chuckled as she jotted down our orders. “Some things never change.”
Dad smirked. “Why mess with a good thing?”
I leaned my elbows on the counter, glancing around the diner. It still looked the same—checkered floors, faded menus above the grill, and the comforting hum of morning conversations. It felt like stepping back in time.
“You’re looking good, John,” Maggie said as she poured Dad a cup of coffee. “Retirement must be treating you well.”
Dad scoffed. “Retirement?” He shook his head. “Don’t use bad words at the breakfast table, Maggie.”
She laughed. “Figured as much. You’d shrivel up and die if you weren’t running that ranch.” She turned to me with a wink. “And you? Still giving these boys a run for their money?”
I smirked, reaching for the sugar. “Always.”
I turned at the sound of the bell above the diner door, my stomach sinking. Breakfast with my father was about to take a sudden nosedive. Clint and Wade Marrow strode inside like they owned the place. Dad saw them too. His jaw tightened as he stirred his coffee, his movements slow and deliberate.
I felt Clint’s eyes on me before he even spoke. He slid onto the stool beside mine, wearing that same cocky, shit-eating grin. Wade took the seat on the other side of my father, boxing us in.
“Mornin’, Alex,” Clint drawled, leaning in just enough to make my skin crawl.
I glared at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Than make you squirm?” His breath was hot against my ear. “I know how you squirm.”
Dad set his cup down with a quiet clink against the saucer. “I don’t believe in coincidences,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “One thing you ain’t is stupid. So for you to set foot in this state again, much less work the land beside mine, tells me one of two things. Either you got a death wish, or your boyfriend in prison fucked all the common sense right outta you.”
Clint shot up from his seat, ready to square off. He grabbed Dad’s shoulder, a mistake he didn’t get the chance to regret.
I was done playing nice. I snatched the water glass off the table and smashed it right into Clint’s face. He reared back with a furious snarl, fist drawn, but before he could swing, my father’s punch sent him crashing onto the diner floor.
Dad stood over Clint’s crumpled form, watching as he groaned on the diner floor. “Nice to see you had a child who lived, Wade,” he said, his tone cold as steel. “Though he sure drew the short straw with you for a father. I gave you a job, a place to call home, and you stole the one thing a cowboy never fucking steals. And now you’re here—and you ain’t stupid.”
Wade met his stare without flinching. “I’m here ‘cause I was hired to be here, and you can not like that all you want,” he replied. “Hell, that’s probably the reason they hired me in the first place. But any time you feel like wrestling a bear instead of a cub, pick the barn, John.” He leaned down, gripping Clint’s arm and hauling him off the floor.
Clint wiped at his bloody nose, then turned his eyes on me. A smirk tugged at his lips. “I guess you like it rough now, huh?”
My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “Go crawl back in the hole you slithered out of,” I snapped.
Dad’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Wade,” he said, locking eyes with him, “you have something that belongs to me.”
Wade didn’t so much as blink. “Come and get it.”
Dad gave a slow nod. “I plan to.”
Without another word, Wade and Clint turned and stomped out of the diner, the door slamming shut behind them.
I let out a slow breath, forcing my shoulders to relax. Then I sat back down and picked up my fork.
“Might as well finish my breakfast.”
—--------------
My phone rang just as we pulled through the gates of the Yellowstone.
Kayce.
Why was he calling in the middle of the day?
I hesitated on the porch as Dad stepped inside, swiping to answer.
“Hello?”
“Alex, meet us at the hospital,” he said.
My stomach dropped.
“What happened?” My voice shook.
“Ryan was shot,” Kayce said. “He had his vest on, but EMS is taking him in to get checked out.”
“I’m on my way.”
I couldn’t think—I just moved. I shoved through the door, grabbing my keys, but my truck was blocked in.
“Dad, give me your keys. I need to go now.”
He turned at the urgency in my voice, eyes scanning my face, my shaking hands.
“Sweetheart,” he said, calm but firm, “what happened?”
I could barely get the words out. “They shot him. They shot Ryan.”
Dad's expression hardened. “You don’t need to drive, honey. I’ll take you.”
I didn’t argue. There wasn’t time.
The drive to Bozeman stretched endlessly, every mile heavier than the last. My leg bounced restlessly, my fingers gripping my phone so tight my knuckles turned white.
“He was wearing his vest,” Dad said, like that was supposed to make me feel better.
“I know.”
But it didn’t stop the panic clawing up my throat.
We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and before Dad could even throw the truck into park, I had the door open, jumping out.
“Alex—” Dad called after me, but I didn’t stop. I bolted through the sliding glass doors, scanning the waiting area until I spotted Kayce.
His face was tense, his arms crossed over his chest, but he wasn’t panicking. That had to be a good sign, right?
“Where is he?” I demanded, barely able to catch my breath.
Kayce stepped toward me, hands up like he was ready to stop me from barging through the hospital. “They’re checking him out now,” he said. “He’s awake, talking, just bruised up pretty bad.”
I exhaled sharply, my body still trembling from the adrenaline.
“He asked for you,” Kayce added, giving me a small nod toward the hallway.
I didn’t wait. I pushed past him, weaving through the corridors until I found the room number. My fingers hovered over the handle for half a second before I forced myself to push it open.
Ryan was sitting on the hospital bed, his shirt off, a deep bruise already blooming across his ribs where the vest had taken the hit. He glanced up as I walked in, his lips twitching into a tired smirk.
“Hey, baby,” he drawled. “You should see the other guy.”
“You fucking scared the shit outta me,” I felt the tension start to leave my body as I sat on the foot of his bed. I took his hand in mine as I scanned him over, checking for any other injuries.

“I’ll be fine, baby,” he gave my hand a squeeze, “hurt like hell but I’m ok.”
I exhaled shakily, my fingers tracing over his knuckles. “You don’t look okay,” I muttered, my eyes still scanning him, as if I’d find some hidden wound the doctors had missed. The sight of that deepening bruise on his ribs made my stomach twist.
Ryan chuckled softly, then winced. “Hurts to laugh,” he admitted. “Vest took the worst of it, but I’ll be sore as hell for a while.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and met his eyes. “Who did this?”
His expression darkened slightly. “Cattle thief,” he said. “Didn’t like us asking questions, took a shot through a fucking wall.”
I shook my head, my jaw tightening. “Bastard’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”
Ryan gave my hand another squeeze, his thumb brushing against my skin. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m still here.”
I closed my eyes for a second, grounding myself in the warmth of his touch. When I opened them again, I shifted closer, leaning in just enough to press my forehead against his.
“You ever scare me like that again,” I murmured, “and I swear to God, Ryan, I’ll be the one kicking your ass.”
His lips twitched up into a grin. “Noted, baby.”
The doctor came in his face unreadable. “Just bruised. Not broken,” he looked over at me, “You the girlfriend?”

“I am,” I don’t think I’d ever been referred to as that before, but it fit.

“Make sure he takes it easy for a few days,” the doctor said. “If you’re ready, the nurse will bring your discharge papers in.”
I nodded, squeezing Ryan’s hand once more before the doctor turned to leave. I watched him go, the weight of everything still settling in my chest.
Ryan shifted, sitting up a bit straighter, his face contorting with the effort. “I’ll be fine. Don’t make it worse by hovering,” he said with that familiar teasing tone, though I could hear the exhaustion beneath it.
I gave him a soft, tired smile. “I’ll hover all I want. You got shot, Ryan. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a minute.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, leaning back against the pillows with a resigned sigh.
The nurse came in shortly after with the discharge papers, her smile friendly but brief. “You’re free to go,” she said, handing the paperwork to me.
I signed without hesitation, my focus entirely on Ryan as I helped him sit up a little more.
He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “You know, you’re making this look like you’re the one who got shot. All this concern’s starting to make me feel guilty.”
I smirked, tucking the papers into my bag. “Good. You should feel guilty.” I stood, offering him a hand. “Now, let’s get you out of here. The sooner you’re home, the sooner I can actually make sure you’re okay.”
Ryan smiled, taking my hand, though his movements were slow. “As long as it means I get some rest and a little more of that hovering.”
I held his hand as we walked down the hospital hall. Kayce was still in the waiting room.
“Told Dad to head back home,” Kayce said, “Y’all ready?” I saw the looks they shot to each other. There was more to the story they didn’t want me to know.
“Kayce, just tell me what happened and quit trying to sugarcoat it,” I said as we walked out to his truck.
“If your brother hadn’t told me to move,” Ryan answered, “it would have been a lot worse.”
I felt my stomach drop at Ryan’s words, his tone heavy with the weight of whatever had happened.
Kayce sighed, glancing over at Ryan before looking back at me. “It was close, Alex. Real close. We’re still piecing together everything that went down, but I don’t want you to worry too much.”
I shot a look at both of them, my hand tightening around Ryan’s as we got into the truck. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I asked, trying to keep the worry out of my voice but failing miserably.
Kayce’s jaw clenched. “We didn’t want you freaking out.”
Ryan let out a low laugh, though it was more strained than usual. “Freaking out? She’s already there, Kayce.”
I was silent for a moment, the weight of the situation finally settling in as I processed what they were telling me. I couldn’t shake the image of Ryan getting hurt, of what might have happened if he hadn’t listened to Kayce.
“Next time, don’t leave out the details,” I finally said, my voice tight. “I can handle it. But don’t keep me in the dark. Not again.”
Ryan gave my hand a gentle squeeze, the quiet apology in his eyes enough to ease some of the tension in my chest. “I’m sorry, Alex. We just didn’t want to add to the stress.”
Kayce stayed quiet, the weight of my words lingering in the truck as we made our way home.
“The guy who did this,” I looked at Kayce, “what happened to him?”
Kayce’s voice was quiet, “I killed him.”
I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved at the sound of his voice. Kayce had killed people who had deserved it more times than I knew about, but each one chipped at his soul.
“You did what you had to do, Kayce,” I told him. I knew he wouldn’t believe me.
—--
“You are not staying in the bunkhouse tonight,” I told Ryan as I helped him down from Kayce’s truck.
“Why not?” Kayce asked, giving me a slight grin, “Y’all don’t do much sleepin’ when he stays here.”
“When did you become so funny, Kayce?” I wrinkled my nose at him.
“I’ve always been funny,” he responded.
“Funny looking,” I shot back.
“Then so are you 'cause you look just like me,” he chuckled.
“I’m much better looking than you,” I said.
Ryan chuckled softly, leaning into me for support as we made our way toward the house. “You two are a real piece of work,” he said with a grin, clearly amused despite everything.
Kayce raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep it interesting around here.”
I shot him a playful glare. “I’m serious, though. You’re staying in my bed tonight. You’re not going back to the bunkhouse and risking pushing yourself too hard.”
Ryan sighed, but he didn’t argue, his tired eyes showing he was too worn out for another fight. “Fine, fine. But only because I know you’re not gonna let me hear the end of it.”
“Damn straight,” I said with a smirk as I opened the door. “Get comfortable, I’m getting you settled. Kayce, stop making me laugh so hard. I’m trying to focus.”
Kayce raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Hey, don’t blame me. Blame your own sense of humor.”
Ryan shook his head, a small laugh escaping him as we walked into the house. “I think I might be stuck between two comedians.”
“Lucky you,” I teased, helping him sit on the couch. “You’re just lucky I love you.”
Ryan gave me a tired smile, his hand finding mine as he leaned back against the cushions. “I’m pretty damn lucky.”
—-
I kept my promise, hovering over Ryan, fussing over every little detail until I was sure he was as comfortable as he could be. I adjusted the pillows, made sure the blankets weren’t too heavy, and even ran my hand over his chest just to reassure myself that he was really here—alive and breathing. Only then did I finally settle beside him, curling into his warmth, my head resting lightly on his chest where I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart. The sound grounded me, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the lingering fear clawing at the edges of my mind.
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I tilted my head to look up at him.
“I’m sure, baby,” he murmured, his fingers slipping through my hair in slow, comforting strokes.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the feeling of his touch soothe me, but the fear still sat heavy in my chest. “I don’t ever want to know what it’s like to live without you again,” I admitted, my voice shaking despite my best effort to keep it steady. “I don’t think I’d survive it.”
Ryan’s hand stilled for a second before he tightened his grip, his other arm wrapping around me as if he could hold me together through sheer force of will. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, voice low and firm.
“You better not,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest, needing to feel him, needing to remind myself that he was here. That he was still mine.
I bit my lip as I thought about my father and what he said to me in the field.
You only have so much time.
I didn’t know if a family was what Ryan wanted. I didn’t really know if that’s what I wanted. I know I want him. I’d be content enough.
“You got quiet all of a sudden,” he said.
“I was just thinking about something my Dad said,” I confessed.
“What was that?” he asked.
“I think he wants more grandkids,” I told him, “what do you think about that?”
Ryan's fingers continued their lazy strokes through my hair, but I felt a slight pause at my question. He took a breath, his chest rising and falling beneath me.
“Well,” he said slowly, “I think your dad’s got a lot of opinions.”
I let out a short laugh, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Yeah, no kidding.”
Ryan shifted slightly, angling his head to look down at me. “But if you’re askin’ what I think about it—not what your dad thinks—I’d say… I don’t know. Never really let myself think too hard on it.”
I nodded, biting my lip again. “Me either.”
There was a beat of silence, nothing but the sound of our breathing and the faint rustling of the blankets as Ryan’s fingers traced slow circles against my back.
“I know I want you,” he finally said, voice steady, sure. “That part’s easy.”
I lifted my head to look at him, meeting his gaze in the dim light. “That’s how I feel, too.”
He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb lingering against my cheek. “Then maybe that’s enough for now.”
I exhaled, some of the weight on my chest easing. “Yeah. Maybe it is.”
—------------------
I slipped out of bed carefully, trying not to disturb Ryan, but the warmth of my absence must have woken him. He let out a low groan, rubbing at his eyes before wincing as he sat up too fast.
“You stay where you are, cowboy,” I warned, pausing by the bedside. “I’ll be right back.”
Ryan chuckled softly, voice still rough with sleep. “Doc didn’t confine me to bed, baby.”
“No, but I did,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “And I think we both know I’m scarier than the doc.”
He smirked, the corners of his mouth twitching up even as he let his head fall back against the pillow. “I ain’t gonna argue with that.”
“Smart man,” I said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Now stay put.”
“Alright, baby,” he murmured, his fingers catching my wrist for just a second before he let me go. I lingered, just for a moment, watching him settle back into the pillows. His breathing evened out again, his body still tired from everything he’d been through.
I knew he hated being fussed over, but I wasn’t about to let him play tough when he needed to rest. With one last glance back at him, I padded toward the door, already making a mental list of what he’d need to take it easy today. Whether he liked it or not, he was stuck with me hovering.
Softly, I made my way down the steps, careful not to wake anyone else. Though judging by the warm, buttery scent of biscuits and the sizzle of bacon, I wasn’t the first one up.
“Morning, Gator,” I greeted with a smile as I stepped into the kitchen.
“Morning, Miss Alex,” he responded, giving me a nod while expertly flipping bacon in the pan. “Made you some cold brew—it’s in the fridge.”
“See, this is why I love you,” I grinned, grabbing a cup and pouring myself a generous serving. The first sip was bliss, the chill waking me up almost instantly.
Gator chuckled, shaking his head as I moved to the counter to help him chop fruit.
“Can you grab me that tray thingy up there?” I gestured toward the top shelf. Without missing a beat, he reached up and pulled it down for me.
“Thanks,” I said, loading up a few bowls of fruit before turning to the biscuits and bacon. I stacked a plate high with both, making sure there was enough for Ryan to actually eat and not just pick at.
I scanned the kitchen, feeling like I was forgetting something. Before I could even ask, Gator placed a coffee cup and saucer on the tray, along with a carafe of coffee.
“You’re a mind reader,” I said, flashing him a grateful look.
He smirked. “More like I know how y’all are about coffee.”
With the tray balanced on my arm, I carefully climbed the steps, nudging the door open with my hip. Just as I stepped inside, Ryan was emerging from the bathroom, rubbing a hand over his face.
I shot him a playful glare. “And just where do you think you’re going?”
He held his hands up in defense. “I had to take a piss,” he said, voice still rough from sleep. “Promise, I didn’t exert myself much.”
“Back to bed, cowboy,” I ordered, raising a brow.
Ryan sighed but smirked as he walked back toward the bed. “Yes, ma’am.”
I set the tray down on the nightstand, slipping back onto the mattress beside him. “Good. Now eat.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for a biscuit. “Guess I’m under house arrest, huh?”
I leaned into him, stealing a piece of bacon from his plate. “Damn right.”
Ryan eyed the plate of food before looking up at me, one brow quirked in suspicion. “Did you cook this?”
I smirked, popping a piece of fruit into my mouth. “I cut the fruit. Gator made everything else. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to poison you.”
He gave a small chuckle but still hesitated before taking a bite. I watched as his expression shifted—first to surprise, then to approval.
“That is good,” I said, nodding in agreement. “I think I might marry Gator… you know, if you don’t ask me first.”
The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what I had just said.
Ryan froze, fork halfway to his mouth, his gaze locking onto mine. “Is that what you want, baby?”
“What?” I scrambled, suddenly flustered. “I was just joking.”
His lips curled into a knowing smirk as he set his fork down. “No, you weren’t.”
I swallowed hard, feeling my face heat. “I—”
Ryan reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. His voice softened. “You thinking about forever with me?”
I let out a breath, my heart pounding against my ribs. “I don’t know… I just know I don’t want a life without you in it.”
He squeezed my hand gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Then I guess I'd better make sure I stick around, huh?”
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “Damn right, you better.”
—----
We spent the entire day tangled up in blankets, wrapped in the kind of easy silence that only came with being completely comfortable with someone. No ranch work, no stress—just us, stealing a moment of peace. At some point, I might have made him sit through The Twilight Saga.
By the time we were halfway through Breaking Dawn, Ryan was staring at the screen with a look of absolute disbelief. “Okay, I get the vampire thing now,” he said, rubbing his temple like he was trying to make sense of something impossible. “But why the hell do they sparkle? That makes no fucking sense.”
I grinned, stretching out beside him. “Creative choices,” I shrugged. “Their skin is covered in crystallized venom, I think.”
Ryan shot me a skeptical look. “Crystallized venom?” He shook his head. “So, what? They’re just… walking disco balls that bite people?”
I laughed. “Pretty much.”
He exhaled dramatically, staring at the ceiling. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, baby. If I ever end up in some supernatural bullshit, I’m picking the wolves.”
I smirked, propping myself up on my elbow. “Oh yeah? You gonna run around shirtless with a pack of other guys and howl at the moon?”
Ryan smirked back. “Only if you’re watching.”
I rolled my eyes, but the warmth in my chest was undeniable as I snuggled closer. “Good choice, cowboy.”
After the credits rolled, I turned my attention to Ryan instead of the screen. He hadn’t looked completely disinterested the entire time, which was more than I could say for Kayce and Lee when I dragged them to see the movies in theaters all those years ago. That felt like a lifetime ago. Unlike them, Ryan didn’t grumble or complain—he actually seemed interested, asking questions instead of tuning it out.
I smiled, stretching lazily. “Since you’ve been so good,” I teased, “I guess I can let you out of confinement so you can go play with your friends. As long as you take it easy.”
Ryan smirked, tilting his head at me. “Play with my friends, huh? What am I, a damn kid?”
“Well,” I mused, tapping a finger to my chin, “you did just sit through five movies about sparkly vampires and shirtless werewolves without throwing a fit, so I’d say you earned some recess time.”
He chuckled, reaching out to pull me closer. “You sure you’re ready to get rid of me already?”
I pressed my palm to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my fingers. “Not even a little,” I admitted softly. “But I know you’re getting antsy, and if I keep you in bed any longer, you might start whining.”
Ryan laughed, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “I don’t whine, baby.”
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed, unconvinced. “Just promise me you’ll take it easy?”
He nodded. “I promise.”
“Good,” I said, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sitting up. “Now go on before I change my mind.”
We got dressed and walked out to the bunkhouse. Colby pulled up in the Tracker looking beat all to hell. Then I saw Teeter. My heart sank. Her face was cut and bruised, and it looked like Colby had tried to staple the skin together.
“Alex!” he called over to me. “She needs your help.” Colby had always been easygoing. Even when things seemed to be going to hell around us. But this time, his voice was shaking.
“Get her inside,” I told him, and ran into the tack room to get my bag. I had sutures and some lidocaine. I hoped that would be enough.
“What the fuck happened?” Rip’s voice called out from behind me.
“It was those dude-string cowboys,” Colby answered as he struggled to hold Teeter up. Rip hoisted her up in his arms and carried her inside. “They ran us down on horses, tried to trample us to death.”
I followed behind them, hoping my hands weren’t shaking. I helped wash her up and get dressed. Then I had Teeter sit down in a chair.
“This is gonna hurt like a son of bitch,” I told her as I pushed the needle in her cheak. I tuned out the sounds of the men around me, making plans to handle this situation. I focused on Teeter and her face. I let out a calming breath as I pulled the staples out. My fingers moving with ease as I stitched her up. I’d stitched up cows and pigs while helping the vet. But I’d never done it on a person, on a friend.
“Almost finished,” I tried to reassure her, “you’re gonna have a gnarly scar, but I think it’ll be small.”
Teeter barely flinched as I worked, her jaw clenched tight, her pink-stained hat lying on the table beside us. She was tough as nails, but even she had her limits. Colby hovered nearby, his fists clenched at his sides, like he was barely holding himself together.
Rip paced behind us, silent but seething. I could feel the rage radiating off him in waves.
“You’re doin’ good, Teeter,” I murmured, snipping the last suture and dabbing her skin with antiseptic. “You’ll be cussing me out in no time.”
She gave me a weak smirk, her good eye twinkling with mischief. “Ain’t no cussin’ when you’re helpin’ me, Alex. But soon as I’m up, I’m gonna beat their asses myself.”
I smiled despite the knot in my chest. “I’d expect nothing less.”
Rip finally spoke, his voice like gravel. “They still up there?”
Colby nodded. “Last I saw.”
I exhaled slowly, pressing a bandage over the stitches. “Teeter stays here,” I said firmly. “She needs to rest.”
Teeter shot me a glare. “The hell I do.”
I raised a brow. “You wanna pop those stitches and have me do this all over again?”
“I’m going,” Teeter said, her jaw set with determination. “I’ll risk it.”
“If you’re going, I’m going with you.” I tied off the last stitch and met her eyes, my tone leaving no room for argument.
“It ain’t yer fight,” she countered, shaking her head.
I scoffed, tossing the used needle into the medical kit. “They did this to you, Teeter. Right here, on my father’s ranch—on my ranch. That makes it my fucking fight.” I stood up, my hands curling into fists. “And I’m not letting any of you talk me out of it.”
Around us, the bunkhouse was already coming alive with movement. The men didn’t need to say anything—I knew exactly what they were about to do. Boots pounded against the wooden floors, hands grabbed for weapons, and horses were being saddled. The air was thick with something heavy and inevitable.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
I felt my father’s presence behind me before he even spoke. When I turned to face him, I could see it in his eyes—this wasn’t what he had trained me for. This wasn’t what he wanted for me. But I wasn’t backing down.
“Let’s go outside,” Dad said, his voice calm but firm as he gestured to Kayce and Rip.
I nodded, refocusing on Teeter as I wrapped the last bandage over her stitched-up wound. “Good as new,” I murmured.
Colby hesitated before speaking. “Hey… you don’t have to come.”
Teeter shot him a look, fierce despite the pain in her face. “I wouldn’t miss this for the fuckin’ world.”
“All right, get up, let’s go,” Rip called out, his voice carrying over the tense energy in the room.
I grabbed a rifle off the rack, my grip steady as I checked the chamber. Before I could sling it over my shoulder, Rip was suddenly there, pulling it out of my hands.
“No.”
I snapped my head toward him, narrowing my eyes. “Who are you to tell me no?” My voice was cold, challenging.
Rip exhaled through his nose, leveling me with a look that carried more weight than words. “I’m someone who cares about you, Alex. And this—” he gestured toward the chaos unfolding around us, “—this is something you can’t be a part of and still be who you were before.”
My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “I may not have handled things the way you have,” I said quietly, my voice dangerously steady, “or taken as many people to the train station as you have…”
His jaw twitched.
“Yeah,” I continued, my gaze unwavering. “I know about that. I’ve known for a long time. I figured out a long time ago what it takes to keep this place safe.” I took a step closer, meeting his stare head-on. “I’m not standing by anymore. I won’t just watch you do it.”
Rip studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. But he didn’t argue.
Because he knew—this time, there was no stopping me.
The walk to the barn was silent, heavy with unspoken resolve. Ethan and Jake were already there, our horses saddled and ready. No words were needed. We all knew the plan.
I held back in the cover of the trees, keeping my mare still and quiet, her ears flicking at the tension in my grip. Walker rode the fence line, playing the decoy, an easy lure for men as arrogant as the Marrows. It didn’t take long—like starving wolves catching scent of a wounded deer, they took the bait, spurring their horses in pursuit. That was our cue.
We emerged from the shadows like specters, thundering across the open field in pursuit. My heart pounded against my ribs as my mare surged forward, muscles coiling and releasing beneath me with every stride. I angled left, boxing them in, forcing them toward the clearing where we wanted them.
“I’ll shoot every one of you sons of bitches!” Wade roared, his voice lost beneath the thundering hooves and snapping reins.
Rip was faster. His lasso cut through the air with deadly precision, snaring Wade clean around the torso. With a hard yank, Rip’s horse never lost momentum, dragging Wade from his saddle. The bastard hit the ground hard, his screams muffled by the dust and trampling hooves.
But I had my sights set on Clint. That smug son of a bitch. I could see the panic flashing in his eyes as he recognized what was coming for him. Lloyd was right beside me, matching my pace stride for stride.
“Get it, girl,” he called over, voice rough with encouragement.
I didn’t hesitate. My lasso found its mark, the loop tightening around Clint’s throat as I jerked him clean off his horse. His body slammed into the hard-packed earth, the sickening crack of skull against stone echoing through the clearing. He never even had time to scream.
Lloyd pulled up beside me, spitting onto Clint’s lifeless body. “Got off easy, you piece of shit.”
I met his gaze, giving a curt nod as I coiled my rope back up. I should’ve felt something—guilt, satisfaction, even relief. But all I could taste was rage, burning hot and unrelenting.
With Clint dead, our focus shifted back to Wade. Rip and the others had him pinned against a thick tree trunk, a rope already looped over a sturdy branch above. Wade stood on his toes, desperate for any relief from the tightening noose around his neck.
“I need a name,” Rip growled, voice low and dangerous.
Wade coughed, struggling against the rough fibers biting into his skin. “What name?”
“The motherfuckers that hired you,” Rip snapped. “I’m not askin’ twice. Next time, I’m startin’ with cuttin’ pieces off.”
Wade’s resolve crumbled. He gasped, eyes darting wildly between us before spitting out the answer. “Rourke. That Market Equities son of a bitch.”
Rip’s lip curled. “Now let me down,” Wade pleaded, voice raw with desperation.
“Why the hell would I do that?” Rip’s gaze darkened. “I’m gonna kill you, but first—I’m takin’ something back.”
He grabbed Wade’s shirt and tore it open, exposing the branded ‘Y’ scarred into his chest. Rip’s voice was steel when he spoke. “You don’t deserve to wear this brand.”
He flicked his gaze toward Walker. “Over here. You prove yourself, and you have our trust. Or I can take something from you, too.”
Walker hesitated only a second before stepping forward. He met Wade’s terrified gaze and shrugged. “Mister, I don’t know you. But if you’re wearin’ that brand, you must be a bad man. And if these sons of bitches want it back? You must be even worse.”
Walker drew his knife, steady hands cutting through flesh with practiced ease, peeling the brand from Wade’s chest. Wade’s screams filled the air, blending with the scent of blood and fear.
The rage was still there, still thrumming in our veins. It demanded payment. Ryan pulled the rope, lifting Wade from his feet. His body jerked, fought, kicked. He pissed himself, choked, and finally stilled.
Rip watched him dangle, his voice calm when he finally spoke. “Y’all wanted revenge. Now you got it.” His gaze swept over the rest of us, landing on me. “But there’s a price to pay for revenge. And now you gotta pay it.”
I met his eyes and nodded. I knew exactly what he meant. And I wanted it.
Night had settled around us. The campfire burned hot, the branding iron glowing white with heat. I watched as Rip branded each of the men, their jaws clenched, teeth gritted, as the sizzle of the ‘Y’ burned into their flesh.
“Alex,” Rip said, his voice steady.
I nodded and dropped to my knees in front of the flames, my heart pounding as I pulled my shirt open, sliding my bra strap aside.
“You ready?” Rip asked.
I locked eyes with him, swallowed hard, and nodded.
The brand pressed against my skin, and the searing pain ripped through me. But I didn’t flinch.

Chapter Text

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the bunkhouse, staring at the brand on my chest. The skin around it was red, irritated, and tender to the touch. But it was there—a permanent reminder of what I did, what we did.
“Put some of this on it, baby,” he murmured, stepping behind me. He started to hand me the burn cream but hesitated, deciding to apply it himself. His fingers were gentle, careful, as he smoothed the cool ointment over the raw skin, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
“I wish you hadn’t,” he admitted, his gaze dark and wistful as it trailed over the mark. “They were perfect.”
“So was yours,” I countered, my eyes drifting to the red ‘Y’ seared into his chest. A symbol of everything we had given and everything we had lost.
Around us, the others took turns applying the cream to their own brands, each one wearing the same silent acknowledgment of what had been done. We were connected now, tied to this place in a deeper, darker way than we had been just days ago. A brotherhood forged in pain, in loyalty, in blood.
I winced slightly as my bra strap settled against the edge of the ‘Y’ before buttoning up my shirt, the sting a lingering reminder of the cost we had paid.
The door swung open, and the barrel racers stumbled in. Their gazes flickered to us, their expressions shifting. Laramie’s eyes widened in awe, fascinated by the marks on our skin. Mia, on the other hand, curled her lip, disgust flickering across her face before she turned away.
I met her stare head-on in the mirror, unflinching. Let her look. Let them all look.
“How’s your face?” I looked over at Teeter as she pulled on her ball cap.
“I think it’ll be fuckable soon enough,” she cast a smirk in Colby’s direction. I saw how the nightmare they’d experienced brought them closer. “Else I’ll just have to have him fuck me from behind.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “I knew you’d wear him down eventually.” I cast my eyes over at Ryan. “Cowboys around here are hard to crack, but when they let you in, they don’t let you go.”
—-------
It was supposed to be a lazy day at the ranch. The cattle were grazing in the field they were meant to be in. Beth and Dad had gone to Helena to meet with the Governor and Jamie to see what could be done with the Market Equities threats.
Lazy days don’t last.
They never do.
My phone rang. Rip. I could count the number of times he called me on one hand.
“You find the thing you were looking for?” I asked. I knew he was going to propose to my sister. He wanted his dead mother’s ring to do it with. It was sweet in a morbid kind of way. The kind of sentiment Beth would appreciate.
“Yeah,” he answered, his voice tight. Then after a beat, “Have you talked to your Dad or Beth?”
I frowned. “Not since they left. Why?”
“I’ve been trying to reach them, but they ain’t answering.”
“Dad hates his phone,” I tried to reassure him. “You know that.”
Rip wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, I know. But he wouldn’t send me to voicemail.”
My stomach twisted. Rip wasn’t the kind to worry without reason. He didn’t call just to chat. If he was reaching out, it meant something was off.
“Mother fucker, I gotta go, there’s a horse down in the field,” he cursed, his voice sharp. Then the line went dead.
Rip never said goodbye. But that wasn’t what made me uneasy. It was the way he’d asked about my father. Like his gut was telling him something was wrong.
And I trusted Rip’s gut.
I heard the squeal of an unfamiliar vehicle outside. My body tensed as I ducked down, sliding the rifle from under Ryan’s bunk. I loaded it, clicking the shells into place with steady hands.
Slowly, I moved toward the door, tucking the rifle into my shoulder and holding it up, ready. My pulse pounded in my ears as I caught sight of a dark van pulling up. The doors swung open, and six men wearing clown masks spilled out armed with military-grade weapons.
They weren’t friendly.
I inched my way out of the bunkhouse door, every muscle coiled with tension. Then, a shot rang out from the house.
“Stay behind me,” Ryan said, pressing himself against the wall. I nodded, my breath shallow. I was out of my element. There was no time to discuss our options, no time to second-guess. Another shot was fired.
Lloyd.
I turned my head just in time to see one of the masked men crumple to the ground near the corral, Lloyd’s rifle still aimed, smoke curling from the barrel.
The fight had begun.
Ryan held his finger over his lips and pointed at one of the masked men standing just feet away from us. I nodded, tightening my grip on the rifle. In a flash, Ryan lunged, his arm crushing the intruder’s throat as I swung the butt of my rifle into the man’s face. The sickening crunch of bone echoed in my ears.
Another shot rang out.
Ethan tumbled off his horse, clutching his side, his face twisted in pain. A fresh wave of rage surged through me. I didn’t hesitate. I raised my rifle, locked onto the shooter, and squeezed the trigger.
He didn’t have a face anymore.
Smoke clung to the air—thick, acrid, curling from the barrels of our rifles and from my grandfather’s cabin. Rip’s cabin.
Everything was a blur. Time seemed to stand still even as it rushed past me in violent flashes. My heartbeat roared in my ears, my breath shallow and quick.
The ground trembled beneath me, but whether it was from the gunfire, the pounding of hooves, or the weight of what we had just done, I couldn’t tell.
I locked my eyes on Monica’s, who stood in the field across from me, clutching Tate tight to her chest to shield him from the nightmare that unfolded. I stood there frozen for a moment, counting the bodies that littered the ground. Five…there were six.
“There’s one more,” I called out.
“He’s in the house,” Monica said. I tried to focus on her words.
“That’s all of them…” I muttered, the weight of my rifle felt heavier in my hands.
The tension in the air was thick, the quiet after the storm settling over the field like a shroud. My heart was pounding in my ears, but I forced myself to stay still, to keep my eyes on Monica as she held Tate protectively. There was something about the way she gripped him, that motherly instinct, that made me feel both protective and helpless at the same time.
Monica’s voice trembled slightly, though she tried to keep it steady. “You need to get him out of here. The last one... I think he’s still alive.”
I looked toward the house. My fingers tightened around the rifle, a reminder of how close we had come to losing everything. “You sure? I don’t see him moving.”
“He’s in there, Alex. Please, don’t let him get away.”
The plea in her voice broke through the fog of my thoughts. I nodded, turning my gaze back to the house. One more left. I wasn’t going to let him slip away.
I took a deep breath, my hands steadying as I made my way toward the door.
I slipped quietly inside, the man who made it inside had bled out on the kitchen floor. I nudged him with my boot to make sure he was really gone.
“That’s the last one,” Lloyd echoed behind me. Jake was beside him, and they lifted his body and dragged him outside.
“Give me the rifle, baby,” Ryan’s voice called out to me. I relaxed my grip and handed it over to him. His arms wrapped around me as I buried my face in his chest.
Ryan’s embrace was a steadying force, grounding me as the weight of what had just happened started to settle in. My muscles ached, my chest tight with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. I let myself melt into him, the scent of him—comforting, familiar—easing the knot in my stomach.
“You did good,” Ryan murmured, his voice soft but firm, like he was trying to reassure both of us. His hand stroked my hair gently, like he could hold me together with just that touch.
I swallowed hard, trying to push back the emotions threatening to surface. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Ryan.”
His grip tightened, just enough to remind me that he was there, that I wasn’t alone in this. “I know. But we’re still here. We made it through. You kept them safe.”
The sound of the bodies being dragged outside echoed faintly through the house, but I wasn’t thinking about them anymore. I was thinking about us, about what came next. The aftermath, the quiet that followed the chaos, and the decisions we’d have to face moving forward.
“We’ll figure it out,” Ryan whispered, like he could hear the questions swirling in my mind. And for a moment, that was enough.
“Y’all stay here,” Lloyd called as he ushered Monica and Tate back inside, his tone commanding but low. “Ryan, Colby—keep watch. Just in case.”
I glanced over at him, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Is everyone OK?” It was a dumb fucking question—of course, no one was OK. Everyone was shaken, everyone was hurting, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Everyone alive?” I added quickly, regretting the first question as soon as the words left my mouth.
Lloyd’s gaze flickered to the kitchen floor, and for a second, I could see the weight of the situation in his eyes. “Yeah. Teeter took Ethan to the vet,” he said, his voice quieter. “Your father was shot. He’s been airlifted to the hospital. When we’re sure this place is clear, we’ll take you to him.”
I nodded, my gaze fixated on the pool of blood slowly spreading across the kitchen floor. It felt like everything was still, like the room was frozen in time, but inside, I was anything but calm.
—-----------------------------
Days blurred into weeks, and weeks slipped into months. My father remained in a coma, unresponsive, trapped somewhere between life and death. Beth’s office building had been reduced to rubble, her world shattered with it. She’d lost another assistant in the explosion. She was healing—physically, at least—but there was a hollowness to her now, something that didn’t seem to lift.
Kayce... Kayce had taken bullets, his body a battlefield from the men who’d tried to take our father down. He’d done what needed to be done, but it had cost him more than just blood.
He wasn’t the same after that. The fire that once sparked in his eyes had dimmed, and the smiles that used to come so easily were gone, replaced by a kind of silence that spoke louder than any words could.
Me, I was holding it together. There wasn’t time to break down—not when there was a ranch to run and lives on the line. I figured it out, even without Jamie or Beth to help. I’d spent years watching my father, Beth, and Jamie do what needed to be done, and now it was my turn. The lessons sank in deeper than I realized. I couldn’t let them take it from us, not when everyone else was fighting just to stay alive.
I sat behind my father’s desk, the familiar weight of it pressing down on me in a way it never had before. It felt different now, almost like it had grown heavier with responsibility.
Then, my phone rang. Beth.
I hesitated for just a moment before grabbing it, my hands trembling slightly. I sucked in a breath, bracing myself for whatever news she was about to give me. My pulse raced as I swiped to answer.
“Daddy’s awake,” she said, her voice quieter, calmer than it had been in weeks. I could hear the relief in her words, though it was wrapped up in something deeper, something we both needed more than we’d realized. “He wants to come home. I need you to help me get a room ready for him. A nurse.”
My heart hitched, the weight that had been pressing on my chest for months easing just a little. I felt like I could finally breathe again. “When?” I asked, my voice steadier than I expected.
“Day after tomorrow,” she said.
“I’ll have it done,” I promised, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Love you, Beth.”
“I know,” she sighed, the familiar edge to her voice almost soothing in its bluntness. “Love you too, Alex.”
We weren’t the type of family that needed to say it all the time, not with the way we showed it. But after everything, after all that had happened, I couldn’t leave it unspoken. I needed her to hear it, to know I meant it with everything I had.
And just like that, the heaviness of it all didn’t seem quite so suffocating.
—---
I stood in the doorway of my father’s room, taking in the cold, sterile reality of it. Machines hummed softly, IV lines snaked from poles, and a hospital bed dominated the space where his old one used to be. He was going to hate it. Every last piece of it. But it was the price of bringing him home, the compromise the doctors had made.
And then there was the nurse. Maggie. Some overly chipper girl with a permanent, too-bright smile. He was going to hate her too.
“Alex,” Beth called from downstairs, her voice carrying through the house. “We’re home.”
I stepped into the hallway just in time to see the EMTs maneuvering my father’s stretcher through the front door. They struggled up the stairs, nearly losing their grip. My heart lurched.
“Hey! That’s precious cargo you’ve got there,” I snapped, stepping aside but keeping a sharp eye on them. “Be careful.”
My father’s gaze met mine as they carried him past, his expression unreadable beneath the exhaustion. I reached out and squeezed his hand, grounding both of us in the moment. “Welcome home, Daddy.”
The second they rolled him into his room, his face twisted in irritation. His sharp eyes scanned the equipment, the wires, the bed that wasn’t his.
“Get this shit outta here,” he grumbled, his voice hoarse but laced with that signature Dutton stubbornness. “Alex. Beth. I fucking mean it.”
Beth sighed, already exhausted before the real battle had even started. I stepped forward, arms crossed, ready for the fight I knew was coming.
“Can’t, Dad,” I said firmly. “It’s either this bed or the one back at the hospital. And I want you here, where I can keep an eye on you.”
His scowl deepened, but he didn’t argue. Not yet, anyway. He just let out a slow, aggravated breath, settling back against the pillows like a man resigned to war.
This was going to be a long recovery—for all of us.
“Get some rest, Dad,” I said, giving him one last look before stepping out the door. He muttered something under his breath, already irritated, but I let him be. If grumbling kept him alive, so be it.
Beth was waiting for me on the porch, a cigarette perched between her fingers. We stood in silence for a moment, staring out at the land we had almost died to protect. The sky was painted in hues of deep orange and violet, the kind of Montana sunset that should have felt peaceful. But all I could feel was the weight of everything that had happened.
“How long do you give him?” I asked, arms crossed as I glanced over at her. “Before he sends that chipper bitch packing?”
Beth took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the cooling evening air. “Day, tops,” she said flatly, her lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
I huffed out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”
For a moment, it was just us, the silence stretching between cigarette drags and unspoken truths. We weren’t the same people we were before all this.
“Kayce still out there?” I asked, my eyes tracking the faint rustle in the brush. He was out there—I knew it before Beth even answered. Since coming home from the hospital, he’d barely left his post. Always watching, waiting for another ambush.
They had made it to our home, crossed that sacred line, and shattered what little sense of security we had left. Robbed us of our sanctuary. And Kayce wouldn’t let that happen again.
Not after what they made Tate do.
Not after what they made all of us do.
Beth didn’t say much, just took another slow drag of her cigarette and nodded. She didn’t have to say anything. We both knew Kayce wasn’t coming inside anytime soon.
“You’re fired!” Dad’s voice thundered from the other side of the door.
I barely flinched. Just sighed and muttered, “Didn’t even last the day.”
A moment later, the door swung open, and Dad stepped onto the porch. He was shaved, dressed, looking like himself again—but there was something different. A weariness in his eyes I had never seen before. It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was deeper, heavier. The kind of weight a man carries when he’s lost too much.
“You two should stay in the lodge until we have this figured out,” he said, his voice rough but steady.
Beth shook her head, her tone flat. “Rip and I moved into the foreman’s house.”
Dad nodded. “Good. That’s closer. The cabin’s too remote.”
Beth stilled. I watched her swallow hard, the moisture in her eyes barely held at bay.
“The cabin is gone, Daddy,” she said, her voice quieter than I’d heard it in a long time. “They killed that too.”
A muscle in Dad’s jaw ticked, his fingers curling into fists. “What else did they decide to kill?”
I placed a steadying hand on his arm, helping him ease into the porch chair. “It’ll still be there tomorrow,” I said gently. “You’re home. That’s all that matters for today.”
“We’ll talk defeat tomorrow,” Beth agreed, exhaling a slow breath. “I want to end this day on a victory.”
Silence settled over us, thick with everything left unsaid. Then, from the shadows, Kayce emerged, moving toward the house. He was still dressed in full camouflage, dirt smudged across his face, his expression unreadable.
But I knew that look.
He was still at war.
Even now, even here—he hadn’t come home yet. Not really.
—---
“I’m going out. Won’t be back ‘til late,” Beth announced as she stepped off the porch, the gravel crunching beneath her boots.
I frowned. “Where are you going?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to look that snake in the eye and confirm what I already know.”
I exhaled sharply. “He wouldn’t do that to us.”
Beth stopped mid-step, her laugh cold and humorless. “You mean he wouldn’t do this to you.” She shrugged off her jacket, the dim porch light catching the scars etched into her skin—scars that were as much Jamie’s fault as anyone else's. “When are you gonna wake up to who he really is? Time and fucking time again, he has let us down.”
I didn’t argue. Because deep down, I knew she was right.
Not about Jamie being behind this—not completely. But about the person he was turning into.
He had called me. He had called Kayce. He had even called the hospital. But not once had he called Beth. He wouldn’t give her that. Wouldn’t let her hear it from him.
And when he spoke to me, he asked about the ranch more than he asked about our father.
Jamie would always be my brother. No matter what he did, no matter how far he drifted from us, that fact wouldn’t change. He had spent his whole life trying to prove he belonged—first to our father, then to the rest of us, and finally, to himself. But when he discovered he was adopted, I think he thought that truth would break the bond between us. That we’d stop seeing him as one of us.
I never had to question my place in this family. Jamie did. Maybe that’s why he always seemed like he had something to prove.
I remembered a day, long before I understood what made us different.
“Why can’t I have bright blue eyes like Jamie?” I had asked my mother when I was five, staring up at her with the hazel eyes I’d inherited from my father.
She had smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Jamie’s special, honey,” she said softly. “God gave him to me.”
I didn’t understand what she meant at the time. I just accepted it the way children do, as if it were some simple truth of the world, no different than the sky being blue or the mountains standing tall.
But now, looking back, I wondered if she had said it more for herself than for me.
My father cleared his throat behind me as he stepped back outside, pulling me from my thoughts. His boots scraped against the wooden planks as he groaned, gripping the railing before stepping off the porch.
“Where are you going, Dad?” I asked, quickly following after him. I reached out, catching his arm to steady him when he wavered slightly.
“Bunkhouse,” he answered, his tone firm but tired. “Need to talk to them.”
I frowned. “That’s a long walk. You just got out of bed two days ago.”
“Guess that’s why you’re gonna have to walk with me, sweetheart,” he grumbled.
I let out a slow breath, shaking my head. Stubborn old bastard. But I didn’t argue. Instead, I tucked my arm around his, matching his pace as we made our way across the yard. His steps were slower than they used to be, but his grip was steady, his determination unshaken.
He wasn’t ready to sit on the sidelines. And no matter how much I wanted to force him to rest, I knew better than to try.
The bunkhouse was quieter than it used to be. Everything had been quieter since the attack. The hands had fought for this land—fought for us—like it was their own. And in some ways, it was. They had shed blood for it, lost sleep over it, and carried the weight of it just like we had.
When we stepped inside, all eyes drifted toward us, the low murmur of conversation fading into silence. It wasn’t just me they were staring at—it was him. John Dutton didn’t make appearances in the bunkhouse, not unless it was for a reason. And this time, it wasn’t for discipline or orders.
I felt my grip on his arm relax as he stepped away from me. I lingered near the wall, watching as he crossed the room, his presence commanding even in his weakened state.
“No picnic working here, huh?” Dad started, his voice carrying through the room. The hands exchanged glances, a few nodding, but no one spoke.
He let out a slow breath. “I’m here to say I’m sorry. And I’m here to say thank you.”
That caught their attention. The hands straightened slightly, their gazes locked onto him.
“I’m sorry people came after you to get to me. That’s not what you signed up for. I’m sorry you went through that.” He paused, his eyes sweeping the room, landing on each of them in turn. “Now, to thank you. And I mean it from the bottom of my heart: thank you for fighting back. Thank you for protecting this place,” he glanced at me, “for protecting my family. I’ll never forget it.”
For a long moment, no one spoke. Some of the men nodded, others looked away, like they weren’t sure what to do with his gratitude. But I could see it mattered.
Dad clapped his hands together. “Now, you stop worrying about fighting. Worry about cowboying. You leave the fighting to me.”
He moved toward the kitchen, his steps slower but steady. When he caught sight of the overflowing trash can, beer cans stacked haphazardly on the counter, and empty boxes littering the floor, he let out a long-suffering sigh.
“Good Lord,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Looks like you boys could use some beer, huh?”
I smirked, watching as he yanked open the fully stocked fridge. Some things never changed.
Letting out a breath, I settled into the chair next to Ryan, finally letting myself relax, even if just for a moment.
Dad pulled a beer from the fridge, popped the cap off, and took a long swallow like it was the first decent thing he'd had in weeks.
“Dad…” I started, knowing full well he wouldn’t listen to my warning.
He cut me a look before Lloyd spoke up. “You alright to drink, boss?”
Dad smirked, leaning back against the counter. “Lloyd, I’ve come to the conclusion that the only thing on this earth that can kill me is me.” He took another sip, his expression lighter than it had been in a long time. Then he turned toward the table, eyes scanning the group. “Any of you dipshits feel like losing a week’s wages to the boss?”
That got a round of laughter, the kind that came from men who thought they had a chance—until they didn’t. They liked to think they could bluff their way into a bonus, but Dad had been playing cards longer than most of them had been alive.
His gaze drifted over to Laramie as she leaned into Walker, then landed on Ryan, whose arm was already draped over my shoulders. A flicker of something crossed his face—curiosity, amusement, maybe even approval, though he wouldn’t say it outright.
“Can someone explain to me how this whole deal is working out?” he asked, nodding toward the tangled web of relationships in the room.
Jake smirked. “Well, that’s what you’d call a constant state of evolution.”
Dad chuckled. “Well, look at the big words from Jake,” he said, pulling up a chair.
“We playing Hold ‘Em now?” Ryan asked, sliding the deck to Lloyd.
“Depends on how much money you want to lose, cowboy,” I teased, shooting him a wink.
Colby grinned. “Just so you know, when we play cards, we talk a lot of trash. So don’t go getting your feelings hurt, alright?”
Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “If one of you boys thinks you can insult me, give it your best shot.”
Ryan chuckled. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Alright, the game’s Hold ‘Em,” Lloyd said, dealing out the cards.
I tossed my money into the pot, watching as my father analyzed his hand. He looked more at ease than I’d seen him in months, like the weight of the world had lifted—if only for the night.
—--------------
Ryan’s hair had gotten longer over the past few months, and I still hadn’t decided if I liked it. But when he looked down at me with that same easy smile, none of that really mattered.
“So, when do you plan on talking to my father?” I asked, running my fingers through the tousled strands.
“Talk to your father about what?” he smirked as he climbed out of bed, stretching before reaching for his jeans.
I propped myself up on my elbow, watching him get dressed. “I know what you’re planning. I just don’t want you to be disappointed with the size of my dowry. Might just be a sack of potatoes and a broodmare.”
He paused, one boot in his hand, brow lifting. “Who told you? Was it Colby?”
I smirked. “I’m not divulging my sources, cowboy. I took an oath.”
“Yeah, it was Colby,” he sighed, shaking his head before crossing the room. His hands found my waist as I knelt on the bed, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I’m just waiting until your dad’s feeling better,” he murmured.
“That might take longer than I’m willing to wait,” I whispered, tracing my fingertips along his jaw.
Ryan’s lips curved into that slow, knowing smile before he dipped his head, his mouth grazing the spot on my neck that turned my thoughts to static.
“Let me do this my way, baby,” he whispered against my skin.
I sucked in a breath, the heat stirring low in my stomach. “You drive a hard bargain.”
He gave my ass a playful swat. “Get dressed, Travis is bringing horses to show your dad.”
“You know the way to my heart,” I teased, climbing out of bed.
As I pulled my nightgown up over my head, I felt his gaze linger. The air between us thickened for a second before I smirked and turned away, grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a shirt from the closet. My fingers brushed over one of his good shirts hanging there, a quiet reminder of how much time we spent together. We split our nights between my room and the bunkhouse, but his best shirts—the ones he didn’t want to wrinkle—always ended up here.
I glanced over my shoulder to find him still watching me, that familiar heat in his eyes.
“Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t make it outside in time to see those horses,” I warned.
Ryan grinned, running a hand through his hair before reaching for his hat. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He eyed me for a moment, seeing the shirt that I wore fit tight across my chest, exposing a little more cleavage than I normally did for ranch chores, but didn’t say anything out loud.
“What’s that look for?” I cocked a brow.
“You’re going to be a distraction,” he smirked slipping his arms around me.
“That’s the idea,” I tilted my hat back and stepped up on my toes to press a soft kiss to his lips, “Easier to talk Travis down if he’s looking at my boobs.”
Ryan chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening just a little. “Can’t say I love the strategy, but I can’t argue with the logic.”
I smirked, adjusting my hat as I stepped away from him. “Travis is a businessman, but he’s still a man. A little distraction never hurt negotiations.”
Ryan smirked, shaking his head as he grabbed his belt off the chair. “You sure know how to play the game, baby.”
“That’s the plan,” I shot back, pulling on my boots. “Now come on before my dad wonders if you finally talked me into running off to Vegas.”
He grinned at that, tossing his arm around my shoulders as we headed out. “If I had, we wouldn’t be coming back.”
Travis and his team unloaded the horses, each one more impressive than the last. Their coats gleamed in the sunlight, muscles rippling as they stepped off the trailer with the confidence of champions.
“Well, your new crew is a hell of a lot prettier than your old one,” I called out, eyeing the riders. Most of them were women—tall, lean, and sharp-eyed, each one looking like they belonged in a magazine as much as they did in a saddle.
“Goddamn, I love when Travis comes to the ranch,” Jake muttered, practically drooling.
Travis caught my eye, then glanced at Jake, smirking. So much for using my assets to negotiate—I had competition.
“So, you’re from where? Texarkana?” Travis asked Teeter, squinting at her like he was trying to place an old memory.
“Yeah, Texarkana,” she answered, chewing her gum like she had all the time in the world.
“Which side of the river?”
“North.”
Travis barked out a laugh. “That ain’t Texas, that’s goddamn Arkansas. Stop tellin’ people you’re from Texas.”
Teeter just shrugged. “Whatever you say, man.”
Rip strolled up, arms crossed over his chest. “You ever sell that five-million-dollar bastard?”
Travis smirked. “I try to leave every show with an empty trailer.” He nodded toward a sleek new saddle perched on the fence. “Had Andy Masci make you something special.”
Rip cocked a brow behind his dark sunglasses. “Yeah? What for?”
“Little wedding present,” Travis grinned.
Rip huffed a laugh. “How’d you figure that out, motherfucker?”
Travis threw up his hands. “I’m a horse trainer, brother. When a woman goes off the market, I get a fucking email.”
One of his girls led a pair of horses over, their hooves thudding softly against the packed dirt. Travis gave me a once-over, then gestured to the horses.
“Alex, I do appreciate the effort, but I think these two will do what you need.”
I stepped up onto the fence, leaning forward just enough to make my point. “Suppose I can’t talk you into a two-for-one special?”
“You could try,” Travis said, looking down at me with a knowing smirk. “Can’t say how much it’ll work.”
Before I could push my luck any further, the sound of hoofbeats drew his attention past me. I turned to see Dad and Kayce riding in from the fields, their silhouettes framed by the late afternoon sun.
“I don’t think the doctor cleared you for riding,” I said, narrowing my eyes at my father.
Kayce gave me a look—one I knew all too well. He’d already had this argument and lost.
“I didn’t ask him, sweetheart,” Dad said simply as he swung down from his horse, landing with a grunt.
None of us pressed the issue. Instead, we all turned our attention to Travis, watching as he worked his horse with a level of skill that was damn near mesmerizing.
“Goddamn,” Kayce muttered, eyes locked on the stallion as it spun and surged forward with effortless power. “He just gets the livestock, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Rip responded, almost in awe. “What are y’all shopping for?”
“I need a pair for Roman trick riding,” I answered, my excitement creeping into my voice.
“The hell is that?” Rip asked, brow furrowed.
“It’s when you stand on two horses and ride around the arena,” I explained.
Rip looked at me like I’d lost my damn mind. “That sounds… interesting.”
“It’s fucking awesome,” I corrected him.
Dad sighed, shaking his head. “Sweetheart…”
I braced myself. I knew that tone.
“I don’t need you to buy me a pony, Dad,” I said before he could go any further. “I’m not eight years old anymore.”
“I know that,” he admitted. “Just thought you were done with all that.”
I crossed my arms, leveling him with a look. “I’ll still be doing it when I’m eighty.”
Dad exhaled sharply, his expression caught somewhere between pride and exasperation. “I’d just like to see you live that long.”
“I know what I’m doing, Dad,” I assured him, my voice softer now.
He nodded, but I could still see the worry lingering in his eyes.
“What exactly are you looking for?” I quirked a brow, steering the conversation away from the worry still lingering in his eyes.
“Legacy,” he answered simply. Then, after a beat, he continued, “You know the King Ranch down in Texas?”
I nodded.
“They got 825,000 acres.”
Kayce nodded too, following along.
“The land down there is so thick with oil,” Dad went on, “you could stab the damn ground with a shovel and strike it. So how’s that ranch still there? That’s the real question.”
“Yeah,” Kayce said. “You’d think some big oil company would’ve bought them out by now.”
Dad pointed a finger at him. “That’s because they got ahead of it. Started their own oil company, bred their own cattle, hell, even bred their own horses. There ain’t a single horse in that arena you can’t trace back to the King Ranch.” His gaze moved between us. “That’s what we’re gonna do. Outside of this valley, who even knows we’re here? I’m gonna make sure the whole damn world does.”
“You want to put Travis on the road?” I asked.
Dad nodded, then looked to Rip. “You know him best. What do you think?”
“That fucker doesn’t do anything but win,” Rip said, then glanced at me. “Just like you.”
Kayce wasn’t convinced. “Can we trust him?”
I smirked. “He puts the whore in horse trainer.”
Rip chuckled. “If he’s riding for the Y, he’ll be true to it. But he’ll fuck over everyone else, sir.”
Dad took a slow breath, then stepped toward Travis, who was still mounted.
“Hey, John,” Travis greeted with a knowing grin.
Dad motioned toward the horse he’d been working. “How’s he priced?”
“Through the roof.”
“Well, what if I put him on the road with you? How’s he priced then?”
“Price stays the same, but you’ll earn it back in less than a year,” Travis answered without hesitation.
“I’ll take him,” Dad said, no room for argument. “Now show me more.”
Travis’s grin widened. “How many you want?”
I shook my head slightly, already seeing the gleam in his eyes.
“When people see horses,” Dad said, “I want them thinking of the Yellowstone.”
Travis nodded knowingly. “John, you know the deal—there’s no money in the oak. All the money’s in the acorn. I’ll find you a stud. Give me three years.”
Dad shook his head. “Don’t have three years. Just get me in now. Find me acorns on the way to that winner’s circle.”
Travis studied him, then asked, “You want cutters?”
“I want all three,” Dad replied.
Travis let out a low whistle. “John, that’s gonna cost a lot of money. A few million to do it right.”
Dad didn’t hesitate. “Can you win it back?”
Travis leaned forward in the saddle. “If we’re doing this, then let me do it right. I’ll get you the best of the best in all three, and I’ll stack checks on your desk as thick as a damn phone book.”
Dad gave him a firm nod. “Do it.”
Travis didn’t waste a second. “Alright. I’ll start making calls.” With that, he turned his horse and rode off.
Kayce exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t afford to do this.”
Dad didn’t waver. “Yeah, well, we can’t afford not to, son.”
I took a breath, stepping forward. “Dad?”
He turned, already bracing for a fight. “I don’t need you to try to talk me out of it, honey.”
“I’m not gonna try to talk you out of it.” I hesitated just long enough for him to notice. “I just… I want to be a part of it. This is my legacy, too. I want to invest in it.”
Dad studied me for a long moment, then finally, he nodded. “Alright then, you’re in.”
That was all I needed to hear.

Chapter Text

It was the next afternoon when Travis showed back up at the ranch. He wasn’t kidding about getting the best of the best. Each horse and rider had stacks of credentials to back up all the flash with.

“No low-cut shirt today, Alex?” Travis grinned as he led our new horse into the arena to show off.

“Figure I should save it for someone who would appreciate it,” I called up to him.

“Oh, I appreciate it,” he smirked as he climbed up on the horse.
“You appreciate yourself more,” I shot back, folding my arms as I leaned against the fence.
Travis chuckled as he adjusted his reins. “Damn right. No one loves me like me.”
Kayce shook his head beside me. “You sure about putting him on the road, Dad?”
Dad smirked, watching as Travis settled the horse with an ease that only came from years of experience. “Man knows his job.”
And he did. The second Travis gave the cue, the horse took off, moving like poetry in motion. Every step was precise, every turn sharp and controlled. He made it look effortless, and if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought the horse was reading his mind.
“Goddamn,” Rip muttered under his breath.
“Yeah,” I agreed, watching closely. “That’s the kind of horse I need.”
Travis slowed the horse to a stop, patting its neck before glancing back at me. “You want to take him for a test ride?”
I was already stepping up onto the fence. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“Try not to fall off,” he teased, sliding out of the saddle.
I snatched the reins from him as I swung into the seat. “Try not to be jealous when I do it better.”
"I’ll try to contain myself," Travis chuckled, watching me closely as I took the reins.
I clicked my tongue, giving the horse a gentle nudge with my heels. "Alright, big boy, let’s see what you got." The horse’s muscles twitched beneath me, his energy palpable as we began to move.
The animal was pure power—every stride was like a pulse of raw strength. But he was responsive, obedient to my every shift and click. I guided him right, feeling him gather speed, then left, his body bending with precision. He practically cornered on a dime, as if he’d been trained to read every small movement I made.
I wasn't Travis. I didn’t have his natural flair or seamless grace, but there was something just as satisfying about the control I had over this beast. As we moved together, I felt a rush—an exhilarating, almost addictive feeling. The wind whipped past me, and for a brief moment, everything else faded.
It wasn’t just about riding; it was about freedom. The kind of freedom you could only find when you were in sync with something as wild and untamed as the horse beneath you.
The world slowed down, the dirt kicked up behind us in a haze, and I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in a long time. The thought of the road ahead, the opportunities, the legacy—it all felt within reach, just like the power beneath me.
I glanced over at Travis, who had a smirk on his face, but his eyes showed a hint of approval. “Not bad, Alex. You might just make a real cowboy out of you yet.”
I guided the colt into a steady gallop, feeling his power beneath me, his movements fluid and responsive. Travis leaned on the fence, watching with a smirk as he gestured toward me.
“So I got Alex on this Metallic Cat colt,” he said, nodding in my direction.
I slowed the horse to a trot, running a soothing hand along his neck. “You let him call you that?” I muttered to the colt. “Don’t worry, big guy, we’ll figure out a better name for you.”
Travis let out a bark of laughter. “Twilight Sparkle was already trademarked,” he shot back.
I rolled my eyes but kept my focus on the horse beneath me. He was a hell of a ride—athletic, smart, and built for greatness.
Travis turned his attention to my father. “But listen, I want y’all to buy this one and put him on the road. I don’t know how big of a name you’re looking to make, but if you really want to shake things up, you oughta let me call Bobby Patton and see if he’ll sell you a share of Metallic. Now that would make a splash.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed as he considered it, but his smirk gave him away. “When you jump in a pool for me, Travis, you do a cannonball.”
Travis grinned like he’d been waiting for this moment. “I’ll do it,” he said without hesitation. “Cannonball it is.”
He wasn’t bluffing—Travis played to win. And if we were going all in, he was ready to make damn sure we didn’t just make a name for ourselves. We’d make history.
I leaned against the railing, watching as Rip made his way toward the arena, a wild-haired kid trailing beside him. It was like looking through a window into the past—like seeing Rip himself all those years ago when he first stepped onto the ranch.
After a brief, quiet conversation with my father, Rip gave the kid a nod and gestured toward the barn. No fuss, no ceremony. Just like that, we had ourselves a new stall cleaner.
The kid’s shoulders were tense, his steps hesitant, but there was something in his eyes—a mix of wariness and quiet determination. I’d seen that look before. Hell, we all had it once.
Rip didn’t slow his stride, and the boy hurried to keep up. He’d learn quick enough: you either kept pace around here, or you got left behind.
I saw everything that happened on the ranch. Even when no one else noticed, I did.
Jimmy had tried to ride again—the same day our whole world fell apart. And now, he was back, moving stiffly, a brace strapped tight to keep his body aligned. He wasn’t going to ride broncs again, not for a long time. Maybe not ever.
Dad wasn’t keeping him here. He was sending him to Texas with Travis.
Jimmy sat at the bunkhouse table, just listening as everyone chatted. His shoulders slumped under the weight of disappointment, of failure. He was leaving the only home he’d ever known, and he knew it.
I watched him, studying the quiet defeat in his face. It would be good for him, I thought. Texas would strip him down, break him apart, and build him back up the right way. It would make a man out of the boy sitting across from me.
“Shit, Jimmy, you look like you need a beer,” Jake said, popping the cap off his bottle. He squinted at him. “Can he even drink?”
“He shouldn’t drink,” Mia cut in before Jimmy could open his mouth, arms crossed tight like she was guarding him from himself.
Jake shrugged. “All right, whatever. More for us.”
“Did you see those fucking horses today?” Ryan asked, leaning back in his chair. “Goddamn, what I would give to ride one of those sons of bitches.”
“Careful, cowboy,” I smirked, tilting my beer to my lips. “That’s a lot of power to have between your legs.”
Ryan turned to me, eyes flashing with mischief. “Baby, you know exactly how much power I have between my legs.” He pulled me closer, his hand settling low on my hip.
Jake let out a loud laugh. “You’d get your ass dashboarded right into the dirt.”
“Bullshit!” Ryan shot back. “Fuck you, coming from a guy who gets bucked off a seesaw.”
Across the bunkhouse, Teeter’s head snapped up. “I heard ridin’, and I heard fuckin’,” she drawled. “What are we doin’?”
Colby didn’t miss a beat. “Playin’ cards.”
—-------------------
I brushed past Ryan as he stood at my bathroom sink, toothbrush in his mouth, and stepped into the shower. We’d found our rhythm, as much as two people like us could—our lives messy, tangled, but still moving in sync.
“Baby, I should probably sleep in the bunkhouse,” he called over the sound of running water.
I lathered up, letting the hot spray cascade over my body. “Why the hell would you want to sleep there when you can be here with me?”
Ryan spat into the sink and leaned against the vanity, arms crossed, his eyes flickering to my silhouette through the fogged-up glass. He didn’t even try to hide that he was watching me, and I smirked to myself as I ran my hands over my skin.
“It’s just—” he hesitated, shaking his head like he needed to clear his thoughts. “Your dad is across the damn hall.”
I rinsed off and stepped out, reaching for a towel. Wrapping it around me, I met his gaze in the mirror. “He knows you’re mine, cowboy. And he knows I want you here. You’re not some stranger sneaking around, taking advantage of his little girl.”
Ryan scoffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah? Then why does he look at me like I’ve corrupted you?”
I laughed softly, stepping closer, slipping my arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms. “You’re reading too much into it. He looks at Rip the same way half the time—and Rip and Beth have been off and on for twenty years.” I tilted my head, pressing a teasing kiss to his jaw. “Besides, if you’re sleeping in the bunkhouse, then I’m sleeping in the bunkhouse.”
Ryan groaned, closing his eyes for a second before resting his forehead against mine. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”
“Maybe,” I grinned, “but you’d die happy.”
“Let’s get out there and do some cowboy shit,” Ryan said, flashing me that easy grin that always made trouble seem worth it.
We dressed quickly, moving in sync, and by the time we stepped outside, the cool morning air had shaken off the last traces of sleep. The ranch was already alive with the sound of hooves, the murmur of voices, and the rhythmic clatter of work being done.
The first job of the day was cleaning the arena—Travis was coming back to show off his horses. I had my own reasons for being out there, though. Yesterday, I’d been too caught up in my father’s vision, too focused on the future he wanted to build, to really take a good look at the pair Travis had set aside for me. That was changing today.
The gear I’d ordered for the trick had finally arrived, and now, with the morning light creeping over the valley, there was only one thing on my mind.
I wanted to see if I could still do it.
I stood by my horse, absently running my hand along his neck as I waited for the others to get ready. Something caught my eye, and I frowned, stepping closer. The cinch was all wrong—loose in places it shouldn’t be, twisted where it needed to be flat.
“Hey, kid,” I called over to Beth’s new stray, motioning him closer. “Tell me what’s wrong with this.”
He hesitated, eyes darting over the saddle like the answer might magically appear. “Um…”
I sighed. “When I asked you to saddle a horse for me, you didn’t mention you didn’t know how.” My tone wasn’t angry, just firm. “If I hadn’t double-checked, I could’ve been hurt. Or someone else could have. It’s okay not to know things, but you have to speak up. Me or one of the boys will show you how.”
“Gotcha,” he muttered, nodding.
“It’s not ‘gotcha,’” Rip’s voice cut through the morning air like a whipcrack. I glanced over my shoulder to see him standing behind me, arms crossed, wearing that unreadable expression that usually made grown men straighten up real quick. “It’s ‘Yes, ma’am’ or ‘Yes, sir.’ Learn some fucking manners.”
“Yes, sir,” the kid responded, his posture stiffening like Rip’s presence alone added a few pounds of weight to his spine.
I loosened the straps, smoothing them out with practiced hands, then motioned for him to watch closely. “Alright, see this? You want it flat, snug, but not cutting off his damn circulation. Always double-check it before you step up. A loose cinch can land you in the dirt real fast.”
He nodded, watching intently as I secured the saddle properly. I had to give him credit—he was paying attention.
“What’s your name?” I asked, glancing at him.
He hesitated for a beat. “Everyone’s just been calling me ‘boy.’”
I huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, they do that,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m Alex. Beth is my sister.”
“Carter,” he finally said, standing a little taller when he said it.
“Nice to meet you, Carter,” I told him, giving his shoulder a quick pat before stepping back. “Now, go finish mucking the stalls. If you get done early, you might just get to see some fucking badass horses.”
His eyes lit up a little at that, and without another word, he turned and jogged off toward the barn, leaving me to finish up with my horse.
—---
The arena was set, the dust settled, and Gator had laid out a feast fit for a king—or at least a crew of hungry cowboys.
“Y’all wanna go look at some shit?” Teeter asked, glancing between me and Laramie.
“Sure,” I nodded, stretching my arms.
“Hell, yeah,” Laramie added, already moving before the words finished leaving her mouth.
We wandered toward the line of trailers, stopping in front of the massive, high-end 18-wheeler that had hauled in Travis’ prospects. The thing gleamed in the sunlight, looking as expensive as the bloodlines it carried.
“What did this fucking thing cost?” Teeter muttered, eyeing the rig like it personally offended her.
“That is sexy,” Laramie whistled, running a hand along the side.
“That is sexy,” I nodded my head toward the horse being led down the ramp—a stallion so finely built he could’ve been sculpted out of marble.
“What do them fucking things cost?” Teeter asked, still staring.
I smirked. “More than the fucking truck.”
Teeter let out a low whistle, shaking her head.
“This is gonna be worth watching,” Laramie grinned, her eyes lighting up as the riders swung into their saddles, adjusting their reins with the kind of easy confidence that only came from years of experience.
I smiled at her excitement, feeling the same buzz in my own chest. This wasn’t just horses. This was something bigger.
Travis led out a pair of matching brown-and-white paints, their coats gleaming under the afternoon sun. They were stunning—strong, agile, and perfectly in sync, their bits clipped together so they moved almost as one. My eyes flicked to the saddles, noticing the gear I’d bought had already been fitted to them. Travis had wasted no time.
“You ready to take them for a spin?” he asked, handing me the reins with a knowing smirk.
I exhaled, steadying the nerves buzzing under my skin. “Alright, boys, let’s show ‘em what we can do.”
Travis stepped in to help me mount the horse on the right. I settled in, adjusting my weight and feeling out the gelding beneath me. I’d been practicing, but not on these two. They didn’t know my cues, and I didn’t know their rhythm yet. Still, they followed my lead as I nudged them forward into the arena, their movements smooth and effortless.
The real test was about to begin.
I stayed seated on the horse to the right as we rounded the arena, focusing on keeping them in perfect sync. Each movement was a calculated effort, guiding them with gentle shifts, making sure they stayed together. My heart raced with a mix of adrenaline and concentration. I lengthened their reins, pushing them into a steady gallop before rising up into a standing position on the horse’s back.
The crowd’s murmurs faded into the background as I circled the arena. The wind whipped around me, my body finding its balance on the shifting back of my mount. I glanced briefly at the second horse, moving in time with the first, and pushed myself further—daring to stand on both at once.
It was when I tried to balance on both of them simultaneously that the harmony between the horses began to break. They shifted apart, their steps faltering, as if sensing the imbalance in my attempt. I felt the pull of their movements diverging, and in a split second, I lost my center of gravity.
I recovered just in time, sliding back into a seated position on the right horse, heart pounding. The horses continued moving, and I could feel the tension in the air shift. My focus sharpened. I could do this. I just had to learn how to push them both in a way they could follow—together.
I ushered the horses out of the arena, the adrenaline still buzzing through my veins. They were perfect—more than I had expected, but I couldn’t let Travis see that on my face just yet. I knew with more practice, more time working with them, I could make a real show out of these two. They were talented, responsive, and they’d only get better with me at the reins.
"Alright, I’m sold," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, as if I hadn’t just been caught in a split-second slip.
Travis laughed, a full, amused chuckle. "Girl, you’re even graceful when you’re about to fall on your ass," he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.
I shot him a glare, trying to hide the smile creeping onto my face. "I meant to do that."
"Sure you did," he winked, shaking his head as he held the reins out for me. "Let’s see what you can really do when you’ve got 'em locked in."
"Just add them to the bill," I told him, letting out a deep breath as I followed him into the barn. I was still riding high off the session, but there was no time to gloat. These horses needed to settle in.
He led them into the stall, their hooves clicking softly against the barn floor. "You didn’t name them something stupid, did you?" I asked, half-joking, but a little serious. I didn’t want to end up with some ridiculous name like "Metal Cat" or whatever the fuck that horse’s name was.
He shot me a grin over his shoulder. "I’ll leave the stupid names to you," he teased, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "You’re lucky I like you," I muttered, shaking my head. "Otherwise, I’d be giving them names like 'Thunderclap' and 'Hot Mess.'"
He chuckled as he patted the horse’s neck. "Well, they’ve got some class, so they’ll need a name to match."
“What about Goose and Maverick?” I asked, a grin tugging at my lips. “Top Gun.”
“Could work,” he said, giving me a quick once-over. “Now get back out there, see what else your daddy’s buying.”
“Ass,” I shot back, rolling my eyes as I walked out of the barn.
The hands were clearly in awe of the horses on display. I leaned against the fence next to Ryan, watching them. “See anything you like?”
He looked down at me, his eyes glinting. “I do now.”
“Such a charmer, cowboy,” I teased, slipping my arm around his waist as his draped over my shoulders. “Someone’s gonna snatch you up.”
“I’m already snatched, baby,” he replied with a grin that made my stomach flip.
“Those are some damn good horses right there,” I heard Jake comment, his voice full of admiration.
“Just once I’d like to ride a horse like that,” Colby sighed, watching the pair of them move with fluid grace.
Ryan shot him a sly grin. “If you tried to stop a horse like that, it’d lawn-dart you straight into a cattle trough.”
“What? No way,” Colby shot back, his voice incredulous. “Have you tried trotting past a mirror lately? You look like a drunk cat trying to fuck a football.”
Ryan blinked. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”
Mia didn’t even glance at Jimmy as he asked, “Can I talk to you?” The silence between them was thick—like she didn’t want him to leave, but he couldn’t seem to get out of his own head long enough to say no.
Mia turned back to us, trying to break the tension. “Hard to believe you could sell one of those and buy a truck.”
Ryan leaned back, hands in his pockets, and smirked. “You can sell one of those and buy a house.”
I watched Jimmy walk into the barn, his movements familiar now. He’d grown up a lot since that first day, the green kid who tried to ride my horse like he knew what he was doing. But even though he’d come a long way, he still wasn’t quite there yet—not quite a man, not yet sure of his worth. Texas would show him that.
He just had to figure it out for himself, like we all did.
Travis spun his horse in tight circles, his movements smooth and effortless. I couldn’t help but watch, captivated by the skill.
“That’s a spinning motherfucker right there,” Jake muttered, impressed.
“Yee-fucking-haw,” Laramie added, her voice full of awe.
“That’s the difference between five thousand bucks and three hundred thousand right there,” Travis called back, clearly enjoying the show he was putting on.
“Travis, let me run and stop just once,” Ryan piped up, eyes gleaming with challenge.
“You bet,” Travis shot back, “For three hundred thousand dollars.”
“Come on, just once,” Ryan pressed.
“This is a ‘you break it, you buy it’ kind of situation here, brother,” Travis laughed. “and you can’t afford to buy it. Only race car drivers get to ride race cars.” He trotted over to Ethan and Jake, his voice lowering as he switched gears. “Is the gimp all packed up?”
“The gimp?” Mia’s eyebrow shot up.
“Jerry,” Travis clarified. “No, Jimmy.”
“Yeah, Jimmy’s gonna be ready to go,” Jake answered with a grin.
“We’ll get outta here around sundown,” Travis told them, turning his attention back to the rest of the crew.
“Y’all going with them?” Ryan asked, a trace of curiosity in his voice.
“Yes, sir. Right as soon as Ethan and I get the rest of these colts finished,” Jake replied, his voice steady with purpose.
“Where y’all heading first?” I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it out loud.
“Well, we gotta go to Scottsdale first,” Jake said, rolling the words off his tongue.
“Then we swing into Vegas, meet the cutters,” Ethan added with a grin, the excitement clear in his eyes.
“You lucky son of a bitch,” Ryan muttered, shaking his head.
“Then we gotta go to Fort Worth,” Jake finished, a spark of anticipation in his voice.
“Fuck, that’s the stockyards, man. My old stomping grounds,” Teeter laughed.
“Then we drop dipshit off at the Four Sixes,” Jake continued, shaking his head.
“He’s going to the Four Sixes?” Mia asked, her voice full of disbelief.
“He won’t last a week,” Ryan said, the certainty in his tone clear.
“Have some faith, cowboy,” I replied, giving him a teasing smirk. “Jimmy may surprise you.”
I watched Mia walk off from the corner of my eye, the tension between her and Jimmy still lingering like an unspoken truth. There was something more to the story, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to dig into it.
“Be careful, Jimmy,” I said, watching him carry his bags toward Travis’ truck. “Travis is a dick, but he can teach you a lot about horses while you’re down there. When you’re ready, you can come back.”
He gave me a small nod, eyes downcast, as if he was still processing everything. I stepped forward, ready to hug him, but hesitated when I remembered all the hardware he was wearing. Instead, I extended my hand, offering him a firm handshake.
He looked at it for a moment before shaking it back, his grip surprisingly strong.
—--
I sat atop my horse, looking down at the cattle spread out before me. The whole damn herd had pinkeye.
I let out a slow breath, rubbing my jaw as I watched them blink against the irritation, heads shaking, some of them rubbing their faces against each other or the ground. This wasn’t just a headache—it was a full-blown problem. Left untreated, it’d spread fast, and before long, we’d have blind cattle stumbling around, getting themselves hurt or worse.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Hey Lloyd we’re gonna have to treat all of them.”
“Let’s push ‘em into the arena, we’ll run ‘em through the chute,” Lloyd called out.
“You don’t want these sick sum’bitches in the arena,” Walker called back, “Let’s just doctor ‘em right here.”
“Well, I fucking said so,” Lloyd shouted back. There had been tension between the two, building since Walker came back. Since Laramie decided it was Walker’s bed she wanted to cuddle up in and not Lloyd’s.
“Hey, I didn’t know you was boss when boss is gone,” Walker said.
“Hey, I’m always the boss when the boss is gone,” Lloyd responded.
I was growing tired of the back and forth, “Look, he’s right, we should just take care of them here.”
“Push ‘em in the fucking arena,” Lloyd said sharply. “We start dragging them in the pasture, they’ll scatter to hell and gone.”
“If we take them in there, every animal we have will get it,” I told him. He wasn’t listening to me. Because to him, I was just trying to take Walker’s side over his.
I sat back in my saddle, lips pressing into a firm line as the herd was pushed into the arena despite every instinct telling me it was the wrong call. The cattle hesitated at first, sensing the unease in the air, but eventually, the combined effort of the riders and the dogs got them moving. Dust kicked up in thick clouds, settling on my skin and coating my throat as I watched them shuffle inside.
Lloyd and Walker were still eyeing each other like a couple of bulls ready to lock horns. The tension between them was damn near tangible, thick enough to choke on. It wasn’t just about the cattle or who was calling the shots—it was about pride, about a woman, and about the way things had changed since Walker came back.
I rolled my shoulders, gripping my reins a little tighter. “We'd better work fast before this turns into a bigger mess than it already is,” I said, hoping to steer the focus back to the problem at hand.
Ryan rode up beside me, tipping his hat back as he watched the cattle settle in. “Hope you got a ‘told-you-so’ locked and loaded,” he murmured. “Cause this ain’t gonna go smooth.”
I didn’t answer, but my gut told me he was right.
“Hey, Lloyd,” Rip called as he rode past the arena, “What in the fuck are you doing?”
“Running them through the chute,” Lloyd answered.
“A couple of them have pinkeye, I can see it from here,” Dad told him.
“They all do, we gotta doctor the whole damn herd,” Lloyd responded, “Thought this would be faster.”
“Faster ain’t better, every damn animal in this place will get it,” Rip said.
I groaned in frustration, muttering, “I just fucking said that.”
“You listen to me you move those fucking heifers out, and do your fucking job,” Rip shouted.
“Let’s go, push ‘em back out,” Lloyd called. “That means you, too, Walker.”
“Hell, you're the boss. Hear that, boys? Boss is gonna let us do some real cowboy shit today,” Walker grinned swinging his lasso.
I knelt over the cattle, injecting them with antibiotics as Colby marked the treated ones with a white X with chalk paint.
The sun bore down on us as we worked, sweat dripping down my back as I moved from one sick animal to the next. The herd shifted uneasily, some of the cattle flinching under the needle, but most were too sluggish from the infection to put up much of a fight. The smell of dust, sweat, and livestock filled the air, mixing with the sharp scent of the antiseptic we were using to clean their eyes.
Ryan rode up alongside me, tipping his hat back as he watched. “You doing alright down there?” he asked.
I wiped my forearm across my forehead, smearing dirt and sweat. “Peachy,” I muttered, standing up to stretch my back before moving to the next cow.
Laramie and Teeter had joined in, keeping the herd contained as best they could while we worked. It was slow, exhausting work, but at least now we were handling it the right way.
Walker nudged Lloyd as he rode past, smirking. “See, wasn’t that hard to listen, was it?”
Lloyd shot him a look that could’ve set dry brush on fire. “You keep running that mouth and you’re gonna be missing a few teeth.”

“You sure about this?” I asked, watching Teeter stir a bubbling concoction in the crockpot. The thick aroma of spices filled the air, but I still had no idea what the hell it was. I wasn’t exactly an expert in the kitchen—cooking was about as foreign to me as a ballet recital—so I stuck to handing her whatever spices and chopped vegetables she asked for, hoping I wasn’t contributing to a disaster in the making.
“Used to make this shit all the time,” Teeter said, tossing in a handful of something dark and fragrant. “Y’all need to quit eatin’ that junk. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Ryan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, looking skeptical. “You’re wasting your time, Teeter. No one’s gonna eat a thing you cooked.”
Colby groaned from his spot at the table. “When does Gator get back?”
“Thursday,” I answered.
“Thursday?” Colby’s head dropped back with a dramatic sigh. “I’m gonna be dead by then. I can already feel my organs shutting down.” He turned toward Walker, hopeful. “Walker, you know any hunger songs?”
Walker didn’t even glance up. “No.”
Teeter rolled her eyes and lifted a spoonful of whatever she’d been making, blowing on it before holding it out to me. “Tell ‘em.”
I hesitated for half a second before taking the bite. Warm, rich flavors hit my tongue, the perfect balance of heat and seasoning. I blinked in surprise and swallowed. “Shit, this is actually good.”
Colby squinted at me, unconvinced. “I think y’all are in cahoots.”
Teeter slid a full bowl in front of him, and he immediately pushed it back. “Oh, uh… no, I’m good.”
“Come on, baby,” Teeter said, nudging it back toward him. “I keep cooking, you keep not eating. I need you strong for later.” She winked.
Colby looked between her and the bowl like it might explode.
“Fuck it,” Ryan said, grabbing a bowl for himself. “I’m so hungry I’d eat anything right now.” He scooped up a big bite and shoveled it into his mouth, chewing slowly. Then his eyes went wide.
“Told you it was good,” I said, smirking.
Ryan pointed his spoon at Teeter, still chewing. “This is fucking great.”
Colby groaned, grabbing his bowl back. “If I die from this, it’s on all of y’all.”
We all watched as he reluctantly took a bite. A beat of silence, then he exhaled and went for another spoonful.
Teeter leaned back, smug. “Told y’all. Ain’t my first rodeo.”
The rest of the guys crowded around the crockpot, jostling for space as they filled their bowls with whatever the hell Teeter had cooked. The rich, savory smell filled the bunkhouse, but none of us were entirely sure what we were about to eat.
Ryan lifted a spoonful, eyeing it warily. “What do you call this?”
“Sum bits,” Teeter answered casually, ladling another heaping portion into her own bowl.
Jake, mid-bite, suddenly gagged and spit his food back into the bowl. “For fuck’s sake,” he sputtered, reaching for his water bottle.
Colby frowned. “What does that mean?”
Teeter grinned, completely unfazed. “Means it’s good for you, honey.”
Jake, still coughing, shot her a look. “Literally everything from the cow that nobody wants is in that.” He took a swig of water, swished it around his mouth, and spit it into the sink.
Ryan paused mid-chew, glancing at his bowl. “So, like…the whole cow?”
“You mean everything in the cow?” Colby asked, hesitantly poking at the contents of his bowl.
“Evidently,” Ryan shrugged and kept eating. Whatever it was, it hadn’t killed him yet.
Across the table, Ethan suddenly blanched. “Ew. I think I got an eyeball.”
Colby nearly dropped his spoon. “That’s disgusting.”
Ethan held it up for verification, and sure enough, a small, round piece of something that definitely shouldn’t be in food wobbled on his spoon.
“That’s just extra protein,” Teeter said, completely unfazed.
I shook my head, unwilling to let the mystery-meat revelation ruin my meal. I scooped a careful bowl, making damn sure I recognized everything in it before taking a bite.
“Tastes good to me,” Walker said with a shrug, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.
Ryan nodded in agreement, swallowing another bite. “Hell, I ain’t gonna ask questions if it tastes this good.”
Colby sighed in defeat, finally bringing his spoon to his mouth.
Walker carried a bowl over to Lloyd, I suppose it was meant as a peace offering. Lloyd’s face said he wasn’t interested.
“What, you ain't eatin’?” Walker asked, his voice laced with amusement as he eyed Lloyd’s untouched bowl.
Lloyd’s glare was sharp enough to cut through steel.
“You wanna fucking dance, old man?”
The tension snapped the second Walker let his spoon clatter to the floor. Before he could react, Lloyd’s boot connected with his ribs, sending him sprawling across the room.
“Hey! Fucking stop it!” I yelled, but there was no stopping it now.
Walker recovered fast, launching himself at Lloyd with fists flying. He tackled him to the floor, his knuckles slamming into Lloyd’s chest and jaw with brutal efficiency. The scrape of boots against the floor and the sharp grunt of impact filled the room as they went at it like two bulls in a pen, too far gone to hear reason.
Another punch from Lloyd sent Walker hurtling straight into me. I barely had time to react before the impact knocked me backward over a chair. My head hit the ground hard, the sharp crack of pain exploding in my skull. Walker landed right on top of me, driving the air from my lungs with a force that left me gasping.
“Fuck—” I wheezed, trying to push him off.
Ryan and Colby were already on Lloyd, wrestling him back before he could go in for another swing. He fought against their grip, his chest heaving, still itching for blood.
Walker scrambled to his feet, jaw clenched, eyes burning with fury. Jake and Ethan stepped in, blocking his path before he could throw himself back into the fight. The room was a powder keg, one wrong move away from exploding all over again.
Then the bunkhouse door slammed open.
Rip stormed inside, his heavy boots thudding against the floor. The second I saw the look on his face, I knew shit was about to go from bad to worse.
“What’s the rule about fighting, Lloyd?” His voice was deadly calm, the kind that made your stomach drop before the real storm hit.
Lloyd barely had time to straighten before Rip’s fist came flying. The brutal punch connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling over the table in a crash of dishes and curses.
“Goddamn you for making me do this,” Rip muttered, shaking out his hand as he loomed over Lloyd’s crumpled form. The room went deathly silent. No one dared to move.
“You alright, baby?” Ryan extended his hand to help me up.
“I’ve had better nights,” I told him, rubbing my head.

Chapter Text

The barn was quiet when we got there, the kind of silence that sat heavy in the air. No one said much, but we all felt it—the weight of last night still pressing down on us. The fight. Lloyd. Walker. The kind of shit that didn’t just disappear come morning.
Lloyd had always been a fixture on the ranch, as much a part of it as the fences and the land itself. I couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t here. He’d taught most of us what we knew, been the steady hand when things got rough. But last night, he’d crossed a line. He let his pride take the reins, let something dark fester until it finally boiled over.
And I wasn’t even sure anymore if it was about Laramie. Maybe it had been at first. Maybe she made him feel like he wasn’t just some old relic left out in the sun too long. Like he still had something to prove. But now? Now it felt like something else. Something bigger.
Walker wasn’t innocent either. He never had been. But Kayce had given him a second chance, one that most cowboys who’d seen what happened on this ranch didn’t get. That alone made some of us uneasy.
I glanced at Ryan, then Colby. No one spoke. Just the sound of horses shifting in their stalls, the creak of the barn settling around us. We had work to do.
We led our horses from their stalls in silence, the usual morning chatter replaced by an unspoken agreement to keep to ourselves. Saddles creaked, hooves shuffled against the dirt, and the steady rhythm of routine took over, but it didn’t feel the same.
The kid—new and eager, still trying to carve out a place for himself—scurried around, looking for something, anything, to do. I could see the uncertainty in the way he hovered, watching us for cues, waiting for someone to tell him where he fit in. But no one did. Not today.
I’d teach him if I could. Hell, on any other day, I probably would’ve given him something to do, shown him the ropes like someone once did for me. But right now, I didn’t have it in me. Not when the weight of last night still sat heavy on my chest, pressing down like a bad omen.
So I tightened my cinch, adjusted my reins, and swung into the saddle without a word. Let the work pull me forward, hoping maybe, just maybe, it’d lighten the load.
I lined up with the rest of the hands at the edge of the arena, waiting for Rip to give direction. The air was thick with dust and something heavier—something that had nothing to do with cattle or work. I watched as Lloyd loaded panels in the ring, his usual quiet authority stripped away. He was the low man now.
“You alright, baby?” Ryan’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I nodded. “Not seeing stars anymore, if that’s what you’re askin’.”
“That, and I’ve never seen you go so long without talking,” he said, studying me.
“Sometimes it’s okay to just be silent, I guess,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.
Ryan tilted his head slightly, eyes sharp with understanding. “Don’t stay trapped in your head too long, baby,” he warned.
Before I could say anything back, Dad rode up. “You got me something saddled?” he asked Rip, stretching his legs like he was already preparing to be in the saddle.
“We’re just rounding up the two-year-olds,” Rip told him. “We’ll be back in a half hour. Then the real fun begins.”
Dad chuckled, swinging easily onto his horse. “I ain’t lookin’ to break any colts. This is the only fun I get to have.”
And just like that, he rode out ahead of us, leaving nothing but hoofbeats and his usual no-nonsense energy in his wake.
The sight of wild horses—or as close to wild as they could be—galloping through the pasture lifted my spirits in a way nothing else could. Their manes and tails streamed behind them, muscles rippling beneath sun-warmed coats as they moved like ghosts across the land.
I couldn’t help myself. They were beautiful, majestic—everything that made this place feel alive.
Kicking my horse into a faster pace, I rode alongside them, the thundering of hooves pounding in my chest. The wind whipped through my hair, and for a moment, I wasn’t just another ranch hand. I was part of the stampede, running wild and untamed.
As we funneled them toward the arena, a sharp whistle from Rip signaled the next step. The work wasn’t done, but damn if this wasn’t the kind of work that made me feel free.
“All right, Jake,” Rip called out, rattling off our assignments. “You’ve got the sorrel filly with the bald face and four stockings. Ethan, you’re on the bay colt—Blaze. Ryan, Colby, you’ll take the buckskin filly and the dun colt. Walker, you’re on the red roan with the blaze. And Alex, you’ve got the steel gray colt.”
Dad’s phone rang. He answered with a nod, his expression darkening. “Jesus. All right, we’re on our way.” He hung up and looked over at Ryan. “Let’s go work for the state.”
“What happened?” Ryan asked, already moving toward him.
Dad shook his head. “I don’t even know how to explain.”
As Ryan passed, I shot him a smirk. “Leaving all the real work for us, cowboy?”
“Gotta do my duty, baby,” he said with a grin. “Don’t fall off.”
I smirked, adjusting my grip on the reins. “I never do.”
Ryan chuckled as he jogged after Dad, leaving the rest of us with the colts.
“Alright, let’s get to it,” Rip called, and just like that, the moment was gone.
I turned my attention to the steel gray colt standing in the pen, ears flicking back and forth, watching me with wary eyes. He was a beauty, all muscle and raw potential, but there was fire in him too—a defiance I recognized all too well.
"Easy, boy," I murmured, stepping in slow. "Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you."
The colt snorted, shifting his weight, testing me. The others were already working their horses, but I took my time. This wasn’t about breaking. It was about earning trust.
I didn’t have time to wonder what Dad and Ryan were walking into, but something about his tone stuck with me. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
The loud crash of the panel behind me sent a jolt through my spine. I snapped my head around just in time to see Walker hitting the dirt, his red roan kicking up dust as it bolted across the arena.
“You alright?” I called over, watching as he pulled himself up, brushing the grime off his jeans.
“Just a little buckaroo,” he muttered, already moving to grab the reins and climb back on.
I shook my head, biting back a chuckle. Some men just didn’t know when to take it slow. But what caught my attention next wasn’t Walker—it was Lloyd, standing rigid, his cold stare locked onto him like a loaded gun.
That fight wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
The last thing I wanted was to get caught between them again, so I turned my focus back to my own horse. The steel gray colt shifted beneath me as I tightened his cinch, his ears flicking back, testing me. I ran a steadying hand along his neck. “Easy, boy.”
Taking the horn in one hand and the reins in the other, I slid my foot into the stirrup, applying just enough pressure to let him feel my weight. He tensed but didn’t shy away. I took that as a good sign.
“That’s it,” I murmured, swinging my leg over.
He rocked beneath me, testing, debating whether or not he wanted to accept this arrangement. My hips moved with his uncertain sway, keeping my seat as I let him work through it.
“I’m in this for the long haul,” I told him, my voice calm but firm. “You can make it easy on both of us if you just let it happen.”
He snorted, ears twitching back toward me. A challenge. A test.
I grinned.
“Alright then,” I whispered. “Let’s dance.”
I trotted the steel-gray colt over to Rip, giving him a confident nod. “I think this one’s a keeper.”
“Nicely done,” Rip said, his approval gruff but genuine.
Swinging down, I gave the colt a final stroke along his sleek neck. “I’ll let you figure out your place here alone.” He’d earned it. Some horses needed space to settle in, just like some men.
Leaving him in the corral, I leaned against the fence, watching as Ethan worked with his bay. That horse wasn’t making it easy, but Ethan? He had a way about him—calm, controlled, like he was speaking a language only the colt could hear. It was damn near poetry, the way he bent the horse’s will without force, just patience.
“Alright, Ethan!” I called, tipping my hat.
“If you got bucked off, we’d have had Teeter get on there instead,” Jake teased, smirking as he swung his leg over the fence.
“I think it’s beer time,” Mia chimed in, dusting off her jeans.
Teeter nodded. “It’s beer o’clock, I think.”
With that, we strolled back toward the barn, the weight of the day’s work settling into our bones.
When we stepped into the bunkhouse, Ryan was already waiting, a case of beer cracked open on the table. He leaned back in his chair, smirking as he raised a bottle.
“How was your day, dear?” I teased, plucking a beer from the case.
“Pretty damn quiet compared to yours,” he chuckled, watching me over the rim of his bottle. “Now, come on over here and tell me how you tamed that steel beast.”
“Same way I tamed you,” I shot back with a smirk. “With a roll of my hips.”
Ryan’s lips curled into that cocky grin I knew too well. “I’ll have to remind you how not tame I am later.”
“Promises, promises,” I teased, tipping my beer back.
The bunkhouse had settled into an easy rhythm, everyone gathered around the TV, watching a rodeo event. The familiar twang of the announcer’s voice filled the room as a rider lined up for his turn.
“Come on, Shad,” Colby called out, leaning forward as the cowboy on the screen prepared to rope. “Y’all hurry the fuck up—you’re gonna miss it!”
Ryan walked over, carrying an armload of beers. “That’s your cousin?” he asked Colby as I took a few from him, passing them out like a good hostess.
“Yep,” Colby nodded, eyes locked on the screen. “Come on, baby. Clean run, clean run.”
I dropped onto the couch next to him, my gaze locked on the rider. There was something about rodeo—precision, adrenaline, the raw skill it took to bring an animal under control in seconds. Ryan settled behind me, perching on the back of the couch, his hands kneading my shoulders as he watched.
The rope snapped tight, the steer caught clean.
“That’s how you do it!” I whooped, flashing Colby a smug grin. “Guess talent didn’t make it that far down your branch of the family tree.”
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “Clearly, the ability to rope ain’t hereditary.”
“Man, fuck y’all,” Colby laughed, shaking his head. “I can out-rope your fucking ass.”
Ryan raised a brow. “In what fucking world can you out-rope me?”
“In any world. Literally any fucking planet,” Colby declared. “Take me to outer space, and I’ll out-rope you there too.”
Jake snorted. “What kind of fucking roping are you gonna do in outer space?”
“He forgot about that little thing called gravity,” I said, stifling a laugh.
“What the fuck are y’all talking about?” Teeter shouted from across the room. “Roping in fucking space?”
“He is,” Jake pointed at Colby, shaking his head.
“That’s fucking insane,” Teeter scoffed.
Colby waved them off. “Just a buncha haters.”
Ryan took a swig of his beer and gave me a look, then said to Colby, “I still can’t believe you have the same DNA as that man.”

—------------------
I slipped out of Ryan’s bunk early. He rubbed his eyes looking up at me, “Where you going, baby?”
“Back to the house,” I whispered.
Ryan reached for my hand, his fingers trailing lazily down my wrist. “You sure you don’t wanna stay a little longer?” His voice was thick with sleep, low and rough in the quiet of the bunkhouse.
I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I’d love to, but I think my dad’s lonely,” I whispered. “Kayce and Monica moved out, and Beth’s staying in the foreman’s house with Rip. He’s in that big house all by himself.”
Ryan sighed, rubbing his face before propping himself up on one elbow. “Guess that means I gotta let you go, huh?”
I smiled. “Just for today.”
He smirked, pulling me down for one last kiss. “You better come back, baby.”
I brushed my fingers through his hair. “You know I will.”
I stopped at the bunkhouse door, glancing back at him as he settled back in his bed to sleep.
The cool Montana air cut through my jacket as I made my way back to the house, the chill biting at my skin and making me pull the fabric tighter around my shoulders. The sound of bacon sizzling in the kitchen reached me before the smell did, but when it hit, I couldn’t help but smile.
Gator was back.
“Morning, Miss Alex,” he greeted, a wide smile spreading across his face as he flipped a pancake. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a bit. Coffee’s on the table.”
I sighed with relief, the thought of a real meal after days of frozen pizza and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and whatever the fuck Teeter made was almost too much to bear. “I’m sure glad you’re home,” I said, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. “Been living on frozen pizza and PB&J for days.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, his hands moving expertly around the kitchen as he worked. “You really need to let me know when I’m gone longer than a day or two, Miss Alex. Can’t have you living like that.”
“I know, I know,” I said with a grin, stepping into the dining room. "It's just been a mess around here."
Gator just smiled, his calm demeanor enough to soothe the hectic energy I’d been carrying around with me. I moved to the dining room table and poured myself a cup of coffee, taking in the warmth of the room as it surrounded me. There was something about Gator’s presence that felt like home.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Dad said as he settled into his seat at the head of the table, his voice gruff but warm.
“Morning, Dad,” I replied, from my seat beside him.
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to the empty spot beside me. “Where’s Ryan?” he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.
“Still in the bunkhouse,” I told him with a slight smile. “I think you scare him.”
“I should,” Dad grinned, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous gleam. “I’m your father and his boss.”
I chuckled, stirring my coffee. “I know. But you know I love him, so that should count for something.”
Dad shook his head in amusement. “Loving cowboys ain’t easy.”
I smirked, meeting his eyes. “Loving me isn’t easy either.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling. “True. But that’s part of the deal, isn’t it?”
“It’s what makes it all worthwhile,” I said, leaning back in my chair. The conversation was easy, like it always was with Dad—no matter how complicated life seemed, there was always something comforting about these simple moments shared between us.
Beth slid into her seat across from me, opening her laptop with practiced ease after filling her coffee cup. Gator came in then, setting down a platter piled high with pancakes and crispy bacon.
"Do y’all need anything else?" Gator asked, his eyes flicking between us.
"No, thank you," I beamed at him, my stomach already growling in anticipation. The breakfast spread in front of me was a thing of beauty—pancakes I could clearly identify, crispy bacon that smelled irresistible. I couldn’t help it; I loaded my plate with the food, diving in before it even hit the surface.
“Not hungry?” Dad asked, glancing over at Beth as she stayed focused on her screen.
“No, I’m intermittent fasting,” she said without looking up.
“What’s that mean?” I asked, my mouth full of bacon.
“Uh… nothing but coffee and cigarettes ‘til noon,” she replied, shrugging. “And then I can eat whatever the hell I want until I start drinking at six.”
Dad raised an eyebrow, clearly perplexed. “I’d like to meet the doctor that came up with that diet.”
Beth didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve adapted it to suit my lifestyle,” she said, clicking away at her laptop with a smirk.
Dad shook his head, muttering under his breath as he dug into his food, clearly not understanding, but also not really caring to challenge her on it. I just rolled my eyes, stuffing another forkful of pancake in my mouth. It was way too early to be debating diets.
“What are you working on today?” Dad asked, his tone casual but his eyes never leaving the table.
“Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission on this one, Dad,” Beth replied without missing a beat. “If you don’t mind.”
“I do mind,” he said, his brow furrowing as he shot her a pointed look.
“I’m taking the job at Market Equities,” she stated, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.
I raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “How exactly is that supposed to help us?”
Beth didn’t hesitate. “It’ll help us when I run it into the fucking ground.”
I sighed, knowing that tone. “What are y’all doing today?” she asked, brushing off the tension.
“Probably work with the two-year-olds some more,” I said, keeping it simple. I figured what I did had little interest to her, but I didn’t feel like getting into it.
Dad gave her a thoughtful look before responding, “I’m battling my conscience.”
Beth smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I’d offer advice, Dad, but I’ve never been in that situation.” She gave him a teasing look.
Dad chuckled at her response, shaking his head. “You’re one of a kind.”
“I gotta go,” she said, standing up and grabbing her coffee cup. “Off to ruin lives.”
“What kind of dilemma are you working through, Dad?” I asked, eyeing him over my coffee cup. “My conscience is still partially intact.”
He let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “One of those cattle protesters,” he muttered. “She’s a real piece of work.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should show her how we do things here,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It’s not cruelty, not in the way people like her think.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” he replied, his tone still heavy with frustration. He stood up, pulling on his jacket. “Be careful out there. And tell Ryan to come see me later.”
“OK, Dad,” I said, nodding as I stood.
—--
I showered and changed quickly, the cool Montana air giving me a bit of a jolt as I headed back out to the arena. The sounds of hooves and voices carried in the wind, and when I rounded the corner, I could already see the hands working with the colts again.
Ryan was in the thick of it, sitting atop one hell of a rank son of a bitch. The horse twisted and bucked beneath him, trying to throw him off, but Ryan sat tall, his grip firm. I couldn't help but smile, shaking my head at the sight.
"You sure you wanna be doing that, cowboy?" I called out, half-amused and half-impressed, as I walked closer.
He shot me a grin, not even flinching when the horse bucked harder. “Better this than being stuck inside all day.”
I laughed, watching as the colt fought every step of the way. "Guess you're a glutton for punishment."
"Someone's gotta keep the rest of these horses in check," Ryan said, his voice steady even as the horse twisted again, trying to buck him off.
I stood there for a moment, watching the struggle between man and beast. There was something about the way he moved, the way he controlled the horse, that made my chest tighten with admiration. It wasn’t just skill; it was patience, determination—things that made him stand out even more in a place like this.
“Just don’t break anything, cowboy,” I called out, already knowing that even if I said it a thousand times, he wouldn’t listen.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Ryan called back, a cocky grin on his face, “I’ve got this.”
“It’s all in the hips,” I called over to him.
The struggle continued, but it was clear that he was going to win. As always.
“My dad wants to talk to you, by the way,” I called as I headed back to my steel colt.
I couldn't help but grin as I heard Ryan's frustrated exhale. "Fuck," he muttered, still wrestling with the colt beneath him. I couldn’t tell if he was more concerned about my father or the beast he was trying to ride.
"You'll live," I called over my shoulder, heading back toward my steel-gray colt, keeping my voice light. "Just, uh, try to not piss him off too much."
I could feel Ryan’s gaze on me as I made my way back to the corral. He didn't need to say it aloud; I knew he'd rather be out here, fighting with the horses, than dealing with the serious conversations my dad always seemed to want to have.
The colt pawed the ground nervously as I approached, but I gave him a reassuring pat. “Easy now,” I whispered, steadying him as I swung up into the saddle. He was strong, stubborn, but I knew him well enough to feel his hesitation. He’d settle in time.
I glanced back to see Ryan still fighting with the colt, his grip tightening as he gave another hard yank on the reins.
Ryan gave a half-laugh, clearly not in the mood for teasing, but the fight in him never faded. “Tell your dad I’m on my way in a minute,” he called, focusing entirely on the animal beneath him.
I nodded, guiding my colt into a smooth trot, trying not to watch too closely as Ryan wrestled his mount into submission. I knew he’d get the job done, but I also knew that look on his face—whatever my dad wanted to talk about, Ryan wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.
I just hoped it wasn’t anything that’d keep him out of the saddle for long.
The Montana sky opened up, rain started pouring down. Can’t break colts in the rain. Guess that left one option for Ryan: facing my father. I slid down from my mount, ushering him undercover to take his saddle off. I glanced back at Ryan, who was still debating what he was gonna do next.
“I can go in there with you if you want,” I told him when he finally gave up on the horse.
“I think this is a conversation I need to have with him alone, baby,” he responded. “But you can walk me to the door.”
I watched as Ryan hesitated for a moment, the rain pelting down around him. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, frustration clear in the way his shoulders were tense. I knew he didn’t want to face my dad, not after the way things had been between them. But I also knew he wouldn’t back down. Not for anyone.
“Alright,” I said, stepping toward him. “I’ll walk you there. I’m not letting you face him in the rain, cowboy.”
Ryan cracked a small smile, his eyes softening for just a moment. “You always take care of me,” he said, his voice low but warm.
“You’re a pain in my ass, but I don’t mind,” I replied, a hint of teasing in my tone.
We walked together through the barn and then to the house, the rain still coming down hard outside. The world felt quieter now, the storm closing in around us. I could tell he was steeling himself for whatever my father had in store, but I could also see that stubborn spark in him—he wasn’t going to let anything break him.
I stopped at the door of the main house, watching him take a breath before he turned to face me.
“You’ll be fine,” I said, giving him a soft but reassuring look.
He nodded, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “I’ll be alright. Just... stay here, okay?”
“Always,” I said with a smile, reaching up to touch his arm. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
With a final glance, he pushed open the door and walked inside, leaving me standing on the porch, the rain soaking my jacket but doing little to cool the warmth in my chest. I wasn’t sure what my dad had planned to say, but I knew Ryan would take it head-on. It was one of the things I loved most about him
I waited a beat before walking into the kitchen. I took off my wet jacket and hat and hung them up. I walked right into another unexpected conversation.
I stood frozen for a moment, staring at the scene unfolding in front of me. The kitchen felt too small suddenly, the air thick with tension and surprise. I had expected a quiet day, maybe some peace after the storm, but now, this?
Beth was holding a knife like a damn madwoman, pacing around the island, her eyes locked on the woman standing in nothing but my father’s button-up shirt. The woman was holding her ground, her eyes just as fierce.
"Who the fuck are you?" Beth snapped, her voice full of venom.
The woman didn’t flinch. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Beth, stop," I said, my voice more weary than anything. This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my morning.
Beth wasn’t having it, though. She picked up the knife from the counter, brandishing it as she circled the woman.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was married," the woman shouted as she backed away.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to process it all. And then it clicked. The protester. The one my father had mentioned. But I hadn't expected this. I hadn’t expected her to be standing in my kitchen, half-naked, playing house with my dad.
Just as I was about to step in, my father strolled into the kitchen, looking unfazed.
"Here’s a situation I couldn’t have dreamed up in a month of Sundays," he muttered, glancing at both women. "These are my daughters," he motioned to Beth, then to me, "That one can be a little overprotective. Put the knife down, honey."
Beth wasn’t having it, though. "Dad, if you’re gonna hire a hooker, would you at least let me get you a good one?" she said, her words dripping with sarcasm.
I stared at her, feeling my blood run cold. "Beth," I said, my voice tight, trying to smooth things over.
"I do not have the energy for this," Dad said, his voice calm but resigned. "She’s a guest in our house."
"I’m calling an Uber," the woman shot back, already pulling her phone from her pocket.
"I don’t think so," I muttered under my breath, too stunned to do anything else.
The woman—what was her name?—turned to my father, her expression shifting to something less defensive. "Can you drive me into town?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "After I get dressed."
Dad looked at her for a long moment, then sighed heavily. "I’ll drive you wherever you want to go in just a minute." He didn’t seem bothered by it at all. If anything, he looked almost... satisfied?
She pulled my father into an aggressive kiss, then turned and walked down the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the house. Dad stood there, his face falling into a look of exhaustion.
"I’m too old for this shit," he muttered, rubbing his face. "I’m too old for her, and I’m too old for that look y’all are giving me. I’m just too old for all of it."
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. "You weren’t too old for some of it," I muttered under my breath.
Dad glared at me but didn’t respond. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Y’all be nice to her," he said with a hint of finality. "She held a protest at the Livestock office, threw a rock at your brother, got thrown in jail, and I bailed her out for it."
I raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t mention the rock throwing when you told me about the protester, Dad."
Beth smirked from the other side of the room. "Bet he also didn’t mention he was bringing her home to fuck her," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Beth!" I shouted, the irritation now flooding my voice. I took a calming breath, “Dad?”
"What?" Dad responded, his tone sharp.
"Ryan’s waiting for you in your office," I said, trying to get this mess over with.
Dad sighed again, clearly at his wits’ end, and gave a quick nod. "Alright, I’ll go handle this." He turned and walked toward the door, leaving Beth and me standing in the kitchen. I could still hear her laughter ringing in my ears, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter that made me feel better. It was dark, cutting.
"Well, that was something," I muttered, finally sitting down at the table, feeling the weight of the morning settle on me.
“What’s your cowboy doing here?” Beth asked turning the focus on me and not the woman half my father’s age who just waltzed through our house like she fucking owned the place.
“Dad wanted to talk to him, not sure what about?” I sat down at the island.
Beth’s gaze didn’t leave the hallway, her tone as casual as ever. It was almost as if she was in on some joke that I wasn’t a part of. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to know or if it was better to stay out of it. But, of course, curiosity gnawed at me.
“Don’t worry about the cowboy. It’s all part of the ritual.”
“What ritual?” I asked, leaning forward just a little, trying to gauge her response.
Beth smirked, taking a sip from her coffee, her eyes twinkling with that knowing gleam. “It’s better if I let you figure it out on your own,” she replied cryptically.
I rolled my eyes, but it didn’t stop the small knot of tension tightening in my chest. I wasn’t sure if I was more annoyed by the lack of explanation or by the fact that she had such control over the situation. She could always manipulate the environment to her advantage, and in this moment, it seemed like she was just having fun watching me stumble through the confusion.
I glanced down the hall where my father had gone, briefly considering if I should follow him. But no, I didn’t need to get caught in whatever mess he was dealing with—especially if it involved that woman. Instead, I focused on the more immediate question at hand.
“Is it too early to start drinking?” I asked, shifting the conversation away from whatever Beth was alluding to. The last thing I wanted was to dwell on the absurdity of it all.
Beth gave me a look, as if considering my question seriously, before grinning. “It’s never too early,” she said with a shrug, her tone as dry as the Montana air.
I let out a small laugh, though it didn’t reach my eyes. The situation with my father and the protester was a lot to process, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face any of it. A drink might help clear my head—if only for a little while.
“Good,” I said, reaching for the bottle of whiskey that was always conveniently within reach. As I poured the amber liquid into a glass, I found myself wondering what exactly was going on behind those closed doors with my father and Ryan. What kind of "ritual" was I walking into?
Beth’s smirk didn’t help ease my growing sense of unease, but at least the drink in my hand might numb it—for now.
“I’ve got a meeting,” Beth said as she grabbed her purse, glancing back toward me with that mischievous smile of hers. “Make sure the hooker doesn’t spend the night.”
“They charge extra for that, right?” I couldn’t help teasing her, the absurdity of the situation sinking in.
Beth laughed, a sharp, dry sound that echoed in the kitchen, before she turned and left without a second glance, disappearing out the door. I was left there with my whiskey and a head full of questions. The whole scene felt surreal, the tension hanging thick in the air like the scent of smoke after a wildfire. I was still processing my father’s unexpected guest—and everything that came with her.
Just as I took a long sip of whiskey to chase away the unease creeping up my spine, I heard footsteps behind me. A familiar voice broke the silence.
“Hey,” Ryan’s voice was low and apologetic as he approached, “Sorry, didn’t think that would take that long.”
I sighed, setting my glass down on the bar with a clink. “Yeah, sorry we had a little drama that delayed your meeting,” I muttered, the words coming out more bitter than I intended. I ran a hand through my hair, still trying to shake the image of my father’s protester from my mind. “So, what’s going on with you and my dad? Should I be worried?”
Ryan stepped closer, his arms sliding around me as he pulled me into his chest, warm and solid. “No, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “He gave me the keys to the trapper cabin. Thought you’d like to spend the night up there.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the shift in conversation. The trapper cabin? That was a place I hadn’t thought about in years. It was tucked away, isolated—a place my dad only really offered to the people he trusted most.
“My father is so full of surprises today,” I said with a chuckle, looking up at him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Ryan’s warmth was comforting, but the situation still felt a little too surreal to fully digest.
Ryan smirked and kissed the top of my head. “Yeah, well, when he finally likes someone, he does it all in one go. Just don’t take too long to get ready. We’ll have to get going before the rain comes down harder.”
I took a deep breath, letting the warmth of his presence sink in. Maybe the cabin would give me the space I needed to clear my head. Between my father’s strange behavior and the tension in the air, a little peace and quiet didn’t sound half bad.
“Well,” I said after a beat, looking up at him with a mischievous grin, “I guess I can’t pass up the chance for a night at the trapper cabin.”
Ryan’s eyes lit up with that same playful energy I loved. “Good,” he said, squeezing me tighter before letting go. “Get ready, and we’ll head out. I’ll take care of everything else.”
As he walked toward the door, I watched him go, still trying to wrap my head around everything. But one thing was clear—Ryan always knew how to make the chaos fade, even if just for a little while.
I raced up the steps, determined to avoid any further encounters with the mystery woman traipsing around my father’s room. I didn’t have the patience—or the stomach—to deal with whatever was going on in there. Instead, I slipped into my own room, shutting the door behind me with a sigh before heading straight to my dresser.
I pulled open the lingerie drawer, rifling through delicate lace and silk, searching for something Ryan hadn’t seen before. Something special. A set I’d bought on a whim but never had the opportunity to wear. Tonight felt like the perfect time. My fingers brushed over the soft fabric, and I smirked to myself as I set it aside before packing the rest of my bag.
It didn’t take long before I was ready. Slipping on my coat, I slung my bag over my shoulder and hurried back down the steps, excitement bubbling in my chest. The chaos inside the house faded into the background the moment I stepped onto the porch.
Ryan rode up just then, reins in one hand, his other resting easily on the saddle horn as he tugged my horse alongside him. The sight of him—completely at ease, one with the animal beneath him—made my breath catch for just a second. He belonged there, in the saddle, like he’d been born on the back of a horse.
The way he moved, the way his body adjusted effortlessly to every shift, every step—there was something about it that made me stop and stare. Almost in awe. Ryan had this quiet confidence, a natural grace that only came from years in the saddle. And damn if it didn’t make my heart race a little faster.
He caught me watching, his lips tugging into a knowing smirk as he rode closer. “You ready, baby?” he asked, voice smooth and easy, like he didn’t have a clue how good he looked up there.
I swallowed, forcing myself to snap out of it. “Yeah,” I nodded, stepping down off the porch toward him. “More than ready.”
We rode together up to the cabin, the quiet night wrapping around us like a familiar embrace. The only sounds were the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the dirt trail and the occasional rustling of wind through the trees. It was a comfortable silence, the kind we’d settled into so easily over time. Sometimes, words weren’t necessary—we just wanted to exist together, side by side, feeling the steady presence of the other.
I glanced over at Ryan, catching the way he looked at me with that easy, lopsided smile—the one that made my heart melt no matter how many times I saw it. The one that made me feel like I was the only thing in his world that mattered.
As we reached the cabin, he swung down first, his movements fluid and practiced. He turned to me, reaching up, his strong hands settling around my waist as he helped me down from the saddle. His grip lingered, his thumbs brushing against my sides in a slow, deliberate way that sent a shiver up my spine.
"Baby, I’ll get the horses settled," he said, his voice low and warm. "You go on inside."
For a second, I stayed there, my hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the solid strength beneath my palms. I thought about arguing, about insisting on helping, but the way he was looking at me—like he wanted me to go inside so he could take care of me—made me nod instead.
"Okay," I murmured, my voice softer than I intended.
He gave my waist a final squeeze before letting go, turning to lead the horses toward the small shelter beside the cabin. I watched him for a moment before stepping onto the porch, pushing open the door, and stepping inside. The warmth of the cabin greeted me instantly, and I took a deep breath, already feeling at home.
Tonight, it was just us.
I knelt by the fireplace, striking a match and touching the flame to the kindling. The fire crackled to life, casting a flickering glow across the cabin walls, chasing away the chill that lingered in the air. I stretched my hands toward the warmth, but it wasn’t just the cold I was trying to shake.
Something about this felt different. Like maybe tonight wasn’t just about us stealing a quiet moment away from the chaos of the ranch. Maybe it was about something more. Something unspoken.
I bit my lip, pushing the thought aside as I turned my gaze toward the door. The heavy wooden frame creaked as it swung open, and Ryan stepped inside, shaking the damp from his hat before setting it on the table. His eyes found mine instantly, dark and unreadable in the firelight.
I didn’t say anything. Didn’t press. I just watched as he locked the door behind him, toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his jacket. Whatever this was, I’d let him do it his way. However, he needed.
Because this moment wasn’t just about me—it was about him too.
I slid my arms around his waist, looking up at him. “Now you don’t have to worry about my Dad across the hall or waking the boys up with your antics.”
“My antics?” he smirked down at me, tucking a stray hair behind my ear, “If I recall, it was you that climbed into my bunk.”
“I’d do it again, in a fucking heartbeat,” I stepped up on my toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Ryan’s hands settled at my waist, his thumbs tracing slow circles against my hips. “Good to know,” he murmured against my lips before deepening the kiss, his smirk still lingering in the way he moved against me.
The fire crackled behind us, filling the cabin with its golden warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat simmering between us.
His fingers tightened at my waist as he pulled me flush against him, his voice low and teasing. “So, does this mean I get to be as loud as I want tonight?”
I let out a soft laugh, sliding my hands up his chest. “I think you earned that right.”
“Damn right, I did,” he growled before lifting me off my feet, carrying me straight toward the bed.
I felt his hands roaming my body as his lips pressed against mine. I pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss, I murmured, “Hold that thought.” And wiggled myself out from under him. “I’ll be right back.”
He chuckled and rolled to his back as I made my way to the bathroom, bag in tow.
I glanced at myself in the mirror, my hair stuck to the side of my face from the rain. I wasn’t prepared in the slightest for a wild romantic night. I looked at the door, he was. And he wanted me, wet hair and all.
I slipped out of my jeans and top, then changed into the sheer pink nightie I’d brought with matching cheeky boy shorts. I adjusted my boobs and looked at myself again.
Better.
I took a deep breath, smoothing my hands over the soft fabric before running my fingers through my damp hair, trying to make it look at least somewhat intentional. Not that it mattered. The way Ryan looked at me, I could’ve walked out there in an old t-shirt, and he’d still want me just the same.
Still, this was different.
I turned toward the door, my pulse picking up as I reached for the handle.
The moment I stepped back into the room, Ryan propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze raking over me in slow appreciation. His easy smirk faded, replaced with something darker, hungrier.
“Jesus, baby,” he murmured, sitting up fully. “You tryin’ to kill me?”
I smiled, feeling a little bolder under his heated stare. “That depends,” I teased, taking a slow step closer. “Is it working?”
Ryan didn’t answer with words. Instead, he reached for me, his hands finding my hips as he pulled me onto the bed with him. His voice was rough as he whispered against my skin.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the hard lines of his arms as we shifted further onto the bed.
Ryan hovered over me, his gaze roaming over every inch of me, dark and intent. The heat in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine, anticipation curling in my stomach.
“I plan on it,” he murmured against my lips before claiming them again, the kiss deep and consuming. His hands skimmed over the soft fabric of my nightgown, teasing, exploring, until he cupped my breast in his palm. His thumb brushed over my nipple in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing it to a hardened peak.
A breathy moan slipped from my lips as my back arched instinctively, pressing myself into his touch, silently pleading for more.
His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, his voice rough with need. “I love the sounds you make, baby.”
The slow grind of his hips against mine sent a fresh wave of heat through me, the hard press of him unmistakable even through the denim of his jeans. The friction of the rough fabric against my aching core pulled another moan from my lips, my fingers tightening in his hair as he kissed along my jaw, his breath hot against my skin.
His mouth trailed lower, finding the sensitive spot at the base of my throat, then lower still. He flicked his tongue over my nipple through the sheer fabric of my nightgown, teasing until I whimpered beneath him. His lips curved against my skin before he worked his way further down, each kiss deliberate, each touch a promise.
When he reached the hem of my nightgown, he pushed it up with agonizing slowness, exposing the bare skin of my stomach. His mouth followed the path of his hands, lips and tongue tasting and teasing, lingering just above the waistband of my panties. My breath hitched, anticipation curling deep in my belly as his fingers traced the lace, his warm breath fanning over my skin.
His fingers traced lazy circles over the satin and lace, his touch featherlight yet devastating. “So pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Almost don’t want to take them off you.” His smirk was wicked as he pressed a lingering kiss to my inner thigh, his stubble scraping deliciously against my sensitive skin.
“Ryan,” I whimpered, my breath catching as I lifted my hips, seeking more, needing more.
He chuckled, low and knowing, his hands firm on my hips, holding me in place. “Patience, baby,” he teased, his lips following the curve of my thigh, his fingers slipping just beneath the delicate lace, promising and torturous all at once.
“Stop teasing me,” I groaned.
“You know I’m gonna take care of you,” he smirked against my skin. His fingers slipped further, finally touching my bare skin with the lightest of touches. He chuckled softly as I squirmed under him, needing more.
“Please…” I looked down at him, my fingers curling in his hair. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as the delicate lace gave way under his grip, the sound of tearing fabric making my pulse race. My fingers curled tighter in his hair as his mouth found me, his tongue gliding over my most sensitive spot with a slow, deliberate stroke. The groan that rumbled from his chest sent a shiver through me, the vibration only adding to the pleasure building inside me.
“Fuck, Ryan,” I breathed, my back arching off the bed as he gripped my thighs, holding me exactly where he wanted me. He didn’t rush—he never did. He savored every moment, every reaction, teasing and worshiping until I was trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy.
His fingers dug into my flesh pulling me tighter to him as he buried his face deeper between my thighs. My head rolled back, my eyes squeezed shut as I felt the rush of pleasure rippling through me. My juices coated his lips and tongue as he devoured me.
I felt his eyes on me, watching as I gave myself over to the intensity of his touch, his tongue. He waited until I was starting to reach a second peak before he kissed his way back up my body. I was still trembling beneath him when his lips grazed my neck, “I got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His body pressed against mine, his heat searing into me as he nipped at the sensitive skin of my neck. My breath hitched when his hand trailed down my side, his touch grounding me even as my body still trembled from the aftershocks of pleasure.
I reached for him, fingers fumbling at his belt, desperate to feel more of him, to close the distance between us. He caught my wrist, pinning it above my head as his lips brushed over mine. “Not yet,” he smirked, his breath hot against my lips. “I wanna take my time with you.”
A frustrated whimper left me, and he chuckled, rolling his hips against mine, letting me feel just how much he was holding back. “Patience, baby,” he murmured, before capturing my lips in a kiss that stole the last of my restraint.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, the cool metal of his belt pressing into my stomach as I rolled my hips. The friction sent another ripple through me.
“Please, take your pants off,” I pleaded, “I want to feel you. You’re making me crazy.”
Ryan groaned, his restraint hanging by a thread as he pressed his forehead against mine. “You’re already crazy, baby,” he teased, his voice low and thick with hunger. But even as he said it, his hands moved to his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he unfastened it.
I bit my lip, watching as he slid his jeans down, kicking them off along with his boxers. My breath hitched as he settled back over me, his warmth, his hardness pressing right where I needed him most.
“Better?” he asked, his lips ghosting over mine.
I answered by rolling my hips again, a desperate little whimper escaping my lips. “Much.”
“Glad to accommodate you,” he responded with a hard thrust, rolling his hips so he was buried to the hilt, letting out a loud groan, as my walls tightened around him.
I gasped, my fingers clawing at his back as he stretched me, filled me completely. My body arched into his, desperate to take him even deeper.
“Ryan,” I moaned, my breath coming in shaky pants. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wider as he set a slow, deep rhythm that had me seeing stars.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his lips tracing the curve of my jaw before capturing my mouth in a heated kiss. His pace quickened, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through me, pushing me higher, closer to the edge.
I broke the kiss, my head falling back against the pillow. “Don’t stop,” I begged, my nails raking down his back, leaving marks he’d wear for days.
“Not a chance,” he growled, driving into me harder, deeper, until the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, and I shattered beneath him with a loud cry. His body tensed above me, his grip on my hips tightening as he buried himself deep one last time. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips as he spilled into me, his body shuddering with the force of his release.
I held onto him, my fingers tracing the damp skin of his back as we both caught our breath. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my lips as he pressed a lazy, lingering kiss there.
“Damn,” he muttered with a breathless chuckle, rolling to the side and pulling me with him. “Every fucking time I’m inside of you I can’t stop myself.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” I murmured as I buried my face in his neck.
I shimmied out of the ripped fabric that used to be my lace panties and placed them on his chest, “I guess I won’t wear my good underwear anymore.”
He laughed, his fingers brushing through my hair as the warmth of our bodies and the lingering high of pleasure settled between us. The rain outside had eased into a soft patter against the cabin’s roof, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly still.
Ryan picked up the torn lace, twirling it between his fingers with a smug grin. “Can’t make any promises, baby,” he said, “Might have to start buying you more.”
I rolled my eyes, stretching out against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm. His fingers trailed absentmindedly down my spine, tracing lazy patterns against my skin.
The rain outside softened into a rhythmic lull, the fire casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls. The warmth of the cabin wrapped around us, sealing us in our own little world.
“Feels good up here,” I murmured, pressing a kiss against his collarbone.
He hummed in agreement, his grip tightening slightly around my waist. “Just you, me, and the storm,” he said. “Wouldn’t mind keeping you here a while.”
I smiled against his skin, my fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. “Not sure my dad would appreciate you stealing me away.”
Ryan chuckled, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “Your dad’s the one who sent us up here. Think he knew exactly what he was doing.”
I narrowed my eyes playfully. “You think?”
“Oh, I know.” He smirked, pulling me on top of him in one swift motion. “And I plan on making the most of it.”
“You ready to go again already, cowboy?” I smiled down at him as I straddled his hips. I grabbed the hem of my gown and pulled it up over my head.
Ryan’s hands found my hips, his grip firm as he looked up at me with that easy, hungry grin. “You’re sittin’ on me like that, darlin’, and askin’ if I’m ready?” He let out a low chuckle, his fingers tracing the curves of my bare skin. “What do you think?”
I tossed my nightgown to the floor, feeling the heat of his gaze as it roamed over me. The firelight flickered across his face, highlighting the dark desire in his eyes.
“Guess I won’t make you wait then,” I murmured, leaning down to press my lips to his. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer as his mouth claimed mine with a deep, slow kiss.
His body tensed beneath me, his desire unmistakable as I rolled my hips against him, teasing us both. His breath hitched, and his fingers dug into my thighs.
I slipped my hands between us, fingers wrapping around his hardened length. I locked eyes with his as I raised up, positioning him at my entrance, then I sank slowly down on him. I bit my lip, savoring the way he filled me.
Ryan let out a deep, guttural groan, his hands gripping my hips tighter as I took him inch by inch. His head fell back against the pillow, eyes dark with need as he watched me move.
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his fingers digging into my skin. “You feel so damn good.”
I let out a soft moan, rolling my hips as I adjusted to him, feeling every thick, pulsing inch stretching me just right. My hands flattened against his chest, nails lightly scraping over his skin as I started to move.
He met me halfway, thrusting up to meet my slow, deliberate movements, his hands guiding me, urging me to take him deeper. Heat pooled low in my belly, each slow grind sending another wave of pleasure coursing through me.
“Ride me, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice rough and breathless. “Just like that.”
I obeyed, rolling my hips faster, harder, chasing the pleasure that built between us. His eyes never left me, locked onto mine, watching every gasp, every shudder that wracked my body.
I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his, swallowing his groan as the pressure coiled tight, ready to snap. “Ryan…” I whimpered, my fingers gripping his shoulders.
“I got you, baby,” he promised, flipping me onto my back in one fluid motion, his hips slamming into mine as he took control.
My nails scraped marks down his shoulders and the pressure snapped. My body tightened around him as I started to quake beneath him. Each stroke, each hard thrust pushed me further and further over the edge.
“Fuck,” he cried out as he slammed hard and deep, his hips rolling into mine as he came hard. I let out a deep moan as I felt the hot spurts of his release filling me full.
Ryan's body trembled above me, his breath ragged as he rode out his release, buried deep inside me. His arms shook slightly as he held himself up, his forehead dropping to mine while we both fought to catch our breath.
I wrapped my arms around his back, my fingers tracing the fresh scratches along his shoulders. His weight was comforting, grounding me as the aftershocks of pleasure pulsed through my body.
“You okay, baby?” he murmured against my lips, pressing a lazy kiss there.
I let out a breathless chuckle. “More than okay.”
He grinned, shifting to the side and pulling me with him so I was draped over his chest. The room was quiet except for the steady patter of rain outside and the sound of our slowing heartbeats.
Ryan’s fingers trailed lazy circles along my spine. “Every time with you, it’s like that,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Like I’m never gonna get enough.”
I smiled against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Good, because I don’t want you to.”
His arms tightened around me, holding me close as we lay tangled together in the dim firelight, the warmth of our bodies melting into one.
My fingers traced the ‘Y’ on his chest, reminding me of everything we’d been through to get here. He was a part of me, and I was a part of him.
Ryan caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my fingertips before placing it back over his heart. His pulse was steady beneath my palm, a grounding rhythm that tied me to him in ways words never could.
“You still thinking?” he murmured, his voice low and rough with exhaustion.
“Just remembering,” I admitted, my fingers continuing to trace the scar that marked him—a reminder of the past, of battles fought and won, of everything that had led us to this moment.
He let out a soft hum, his other hand running through my hair. “Hope you’re remembering the good parts.”
I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. “Only the best parts.”
Ryan’s lips curled into that easy smile of his, the one that always made my heart skip. “Then I guess we’ll just have to keep making more of those.”
I smirked, shifting up to straddle his hips again. “Good thing I’m not tired yet.”
He groaned, his hands settling on my waist. “Baby, you’re gonna be the death of me.”
I leaned down, brushing my lips over his. “Then I’ll make sure you go out happy. I think you and I should take advantage of that big bathtub in there.” I nodded my head in the direction of the bathroom.
“How can I say no to that?” he murmured as he pulled me down for another kiss. I slid off of him, inching slowly off the bed.
I wrinkled my nose as I looked at his feet, “I can’t believe you fucked me with your socks still on.”
“Baby, I had other things to focus on besides my feet,” his hand slid around my waist as he stood behind me letting out a chuckle, “and I’ve fucked you with my pants still on.”
I turned in his arms, laughing as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “True, but that was different.”
Ryan smirked, tilting his head. “How so?”
I traced a finger down his chest, stopping just above his navel. “It was hot.”
His laughter rumbled against my palm before he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Everything I do to you is hot.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. “Well, you’re definitely not getting in that tub with socks on.”
Ryan smirked, stepping back just enough to tug them off and toss them aside. “Happy now?”
I gave an approving nod, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the bathroom. The large tub sat beneath a window that overlooked the darkened landscape, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the room. I leaned over to start the water, feeling the heat warm my fingers as the tub began to fill.
Ryan came up behind me, his hands gliding over my hips before settling on my waist. “You know,” he murmured, lips grazing my shoulder, “we might get clean, but I can’t promise we’ll behave.”
I turned to face him, stepping backward into the warm water, letting it swirl around my calves as I held his gaze. “Good,” I smirked. “I’d be disappointed if you did.”

Chapter Text

I stretched out beside Ryan as the sun started to peer through the window. He shifted a little in his sleep as I slid out of bed. The fire had died out, so I shivered a little as I pulled his shirt around me. I smiled as I wrapped myself in the warmth of him that still lingered in the fabric.

I walked into the bathroom to take care of my needs, then brushed my teeth. He was still sleeping peacefully when I made it back to the room. I started to rummage through the cabinets, pulling out a box of pancake mix and started coffee.

I opened the old refrigerator, checking the date on the milk, it was still good. I gave it a sniff to make sure. I grabbed an old cast-iron skillet and dropped some butter into it to heat while I mixed the batter.

This cooking stuff isn’t so hard, I thought.

The smell of sizzling butter filled the air as I poured the pancake batter into the skillet, the edges of each one starting to bubble just right. I flipped one carefully, watching as it browned to a perfect golden hue. I couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride. Cooking had always seemed like a chore, but here in this moment, it felt oddly satisfying.
I turned the heat down as I kept an eye on the pancakes, glancing over at Ryan. He was still asleep, the light filtering through the window casting soft shadows across his face. I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me, not just from the heat of the kitchen, but from the quiet peace we had here together.
I moved quietly, making sure not to disturb his rest as I finished flipping the last pancake. The soft scent of coffee now mingled with the pancakes, and I set everything out on the counter. I glanced at the clock—it wasn't too late, but I knew Ryan would be waking soon, hungry and ready for the day.
As I poured a cup of coffee for myself, I could feel the anticipation building. We’d spent the night together, but mornings like this always felt a little more intimate. It was the quiet moments that held the most weight.
When I finally turned back toward the bed, I noticed Ryan had shifted again, his eyes flickering open. He stretched, a soft groan escaping his lips, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, tousled hair and all.
“Morning, cowboy,” I said, my voice soft but full of warmth. “Breakfast is ready.”
Ryan blinked a few times, taking in the scene—me in his shirt, the pancakes on the table, and the aroma filling the cabin. His lips curved into a lazy smile. “You’re full of surprises.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s just pancakes and coffee, nothing too wild.”
He chuckled, rubbing his eyes. “I think you’ve managed to surprise me in every way possible.” His voice was rough from sleep, but the affection in it made my heart flutter.
I carried the plate over to him, the warmth of the food and the moment grounding me. “Well, I’m glad I could surprise you,” I said softly, watching him take the first bite. "I just figured I'd give this whole domestic thing a try."
Ryan looked up from his food, his eyes locking with mine, a playful glint in them. “If this is your idea of domestic, I think I can get used to it.”
“Well there were directions on the box,” I told him, “so I figured I couldn’t fuck it up too badly.”

Ryan shook his head with a chuckle, “You didn’t fuck it up at all, baby.”

“Glad I have your stamp of approval,” I took a bite, surprising even to me, it was good. Didn’t hold a candle to Gator’s, but it was edible. “What time do we have to head back?”

Ryan glanced at his phone for the time, “Shit,” he exclaimed, “now.”

“Well,” I chuckled, “I guess no morning sex for me.”

“We can have afternoon sex,” he kissed my neck, “after I get done what I need to. Then, after supper sex,” his lips trailed over my ear.

“That’s my whole day sorted,” I smiled as his lips tickled my neck.
Ryan chuckled against my skin, the vibration sending a shiver down my spine. “Well, I’m glad to know I’ve got your day planned out.” His hands slid around me, pulling me closer, and for a moment, I let myself lean into the warmth of him, enjoying the feeling of being tangled in his arms.
But the reality of the clock caught up with us. I reluctantly pulled away, looking over at the pancakes still sitting on the counter. “Guess I’ll just have to savor this breakfast before it turns into a rushed lunch,” I teased, standing up and pulling the shirt down a little.
Ryan sat up, stretching like a cat in the sun. “Let me grab a shower real quick, and I’ll be ready to go. We’ll make it work, baby.” He gave me a wink, and I smiled, watching as he moved toward the bathroom.
I finished my coffee, feeling that buzz of energy take over me as I gathered up the dishes. The sun had risen higher, casting the cabin in a soft golden light, but the day was calling us back to reality.
Still, I couldn’t help but smile. Even if it was a quick morning, it felt like we were in our own little world, even if just for a little while. I was already looking forward to when we’d have that afternoon—one that would be full of a different kind of intimacy.
The rain had finally stopped by the time we saddled up again, our horses’ hooves clicking against the wet ground as we headed back to reality. The rest of the world, as we knew it, was waiting for us. The hands were already busy in the yard, working with the two-year-olds as we made our way back to the barn.
I dismounted and led my horse by the reins, feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment. The cabin had been a brief escape, but now, it was time to get back to the routine.
Ryan’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Let me get the horses settled, baby. You go see to your spoiled-ass rodeo horse. I’m sure Denim missed you while you were gone.”
I shot him a playful glance over my shoulder, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I’ll be sure to give him all the attention he deserves,” I teased, heading toward the barn where my loyal steed was waiting.
I walked to the back of the barn, “Morning, boys,” I called over to Goose and Maverick as they chomped at the hay in their trough. I stopped suddenly when I reached Denim’s stall, he was already saddled.

No one ever saddled him but me or Ryan.

I stood frozen, Denim’s reins in my hand, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the sign hanging from the saddle horn. Tears welled up in my eyes before I could even stop them, blurring the edges of the words in front of me. The sign read: "Will you marry me?"
It was like the world had slowed down around me, the sound of the horses grazing in the background fading into nothing. The only thing that mattered, the only thing I could focus on, was that question hanging there, bold and clear, a promise I wasn’t expecting but had hoped for.
I swallowed hard, blinking away the tears, my hand shaking slightly as I reached for the sign. My chest felt tight, like there wasn’t enough room for the emotions swirling inside me. I had no words in that moment, just a rush of thoughts, of memories, of everything that had led me to this point.
I turned to look back at Ryan, standing in the doorway of the barn, his face lit with that easy, confident smile I knew so well. He was watching me, waiting.
“Well?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with an excitement that mirrored my own.
I didn’t know what else to say except, “Yes.”
The hands that had been too busy to look up from their work before had gathered behind Ryan, hooting and hollering.

“I fucking told you she’d say ‘Yes’,” Colby clapped a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Don’t know why 'cause you still can’t rope for shit.”

Ryan brushed off Colby’s words, not responding with his usual comeback. He walked up to me as he fished a black box out of his jeans.

“El–,” he started.

“I will change my mind real quick if you say my full name in front of everyone,” I chuckled through the tears on my face.
Ryan froze for a moment, his lips curling into a grin at my teasing. “Alright, alright, no full names.” He dropped to one knee in front of me, a move so effortless and natural it almost seemed like he’d planned it. The box in his hand flicked open to reveal a simple, yet stunning ring, catching the light from the barn.
“I know we’ve got a lot of history, a lot of things we’ve been through, but I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. So, how about it, baby? Will you marry me?”
The words tumbled out of his mouth with that familiar warmth, the same intensity that had kept me by his side all this time.
I glanced over at the hands behind us, their whooping and hollering still echoing in the background. Then I looked back at Ryan—at the man who had become a constant in my life, someone I couldn’t imagine not having by my side.
“I’m not going to change my mind, cowboy,” I said softly, bending down to meet his gaze. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”
His grin widened, and I watched the tension leave his shoulders as he slid the ring onto my finger. The sound of cheering and applause from the crew behind us didn’t even faze me. In that moment, all that mattered was him and me—and the life we were about to build together.
Rip’s voice sliced through the air like a knife, cutting through the celebration that had erupted around us. “What the fuck is going on around here?” His tone was sharp, demanding attention. “Don’t y’all have work to be doing?”
The hands froze, mid-laugh and mid-cheer, their expressions shifting from jubilant to sheepish in an instant. Rip didn’t even have to move; his glare alone sent them scattering, back to their tasks like cattle suddenly aware of their herder's presence. But it wasn’t just his authority that silenced them—it was the way he carried himself, the raw power behind his words.
Once the commotion died down, Rip took a deliberate step closer to us. His eyes flicked to Ryan for a brief moment, the corners of his lips twitching, as though trying to suppress a smirk. But when he looked at me, that smirk broke free.
“You sure you want to marry this asshole, Alex?” Rip’s voice was low, the challenge barely veiled beneath the humor in his tone. His gaze was teasing, but there was something more—something like approval, lurking behind those sharp eyes.
I didn’t hesitate. The feeling in my chest, the clarity that had been there from the start, was undeniable. I smiled, my heart pounding but steady, as I looked Rip in the eye.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I said, the words solidifying my certainty in that moment. It wasn’t just about the proposal or the ring, but about everything Ryan and I had been through—and the future I saw with him.
Rip paused for a beat, as if weighing my words. Then, with a half-grin, he gave a quick nod of approval. "Well then, guess you’ve got the old bastard’s blessing."
I laughed, the sound light and genuine, before glancing at Ryan, who was watching with that familiar, crooked grin of his. The teasing between Rip and us only solidified it: this was real. This was my family, my future, and nothing could change that.
"Thank you," I said, my emotions swirling in a way I couldn't control. Lee was gone, and Kayce and Jamie had left the ranch. But there was still one brother who would never leave.
"Don’t fucking cry," Rip grumbled, his voice low.
"Shut up," I shot back, irritation thick in my voice. "Don’t be a dick."
"Can’t help it. It’s just who I am." He paused, then added, "And don’t hug me either."
I hugged him anyway.
—-----

I couldn’t stop smiling as I made my way back to the house. Beth was at the kitchen bar, sipping coffee and typing away on her laptop.
“You doing what you always do?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
“Trying to take over the world?” She glanced up at me, raising an eyebrow. “Yep.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I replied, sliding onto the stool next to hers and resting my left hand on the counter.
“Finally, he put a ring on it,” Beth muttered, not bothering to look up. “But no double weddings, Alex. That’s fucking stupid.”
“Fine, I’ll give you your own day and I’ll have mine,” I said. “Where’s Dad?”
“Office,” she replied.
I stood up to head down the hall. “Hey, you’ll make a good blushing bride. You haven’t had the blush fucked out of you yet.”
“I’ll take that as the compliment you meant it to be,” I shot back.
“Sure, you do that.” She waved me off without looking up.
I leaned against my father’s office door, watching him read through papers on his desk. “I hope I didn’t fuck up your whole system while you were… gone,” I said.
“Your organization could use some work, sweetheart,” Dad glanced up at me, “but you managed everything just fine. Between this and Travis’ horses, we might finally see some green after all these years.”
“Glad I could help.” I pushed myself off the doorframe and walked in, settling into the chair across from him. “How’s your cattle protester?”
“Her name’s Summer,” he replied. “And I wish you girls wouldn’t give her such a hard time.”
“As long as she doesn’t start calling you ‘Daddy,’ I’m good,” I shot back. “You need someone who can make you happy.”
He looked at me curiously, letting my words sink in. “Sometimes I wish you girls weren’t so comfortable with telling me shit like that.”
“We haven’t been ‘girls’ in a long time,” I responded dryly. “I’m just glad she’s not a stripper named Candy.”
He shot me a look.
“She’s not a stripper, right?” I raised an eyebrow.
“No, she’s not a stripper,” he said, with a hint of uncertainty. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“You gonna see her again?” I asked.
“I didn’t exactly plan my social calendar around her,” he replied. “Did you come in here to talk about my dating life, or did you have something else on your mind?”
“Ryan asked me to marry him,” I said, my voice steady. “And I said yes.”
“It’s about damn time.” He looked up at me, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “He make you happy, sweetheart?”
“Every day,” I answered, the warmth in my voice undeniable.
“That’s all I want for you, your sister, and your brothers,” he said.
“We will be,” I replied, with quiet certainty.
“Until you decide where you want to build your life with him,” Dad said, “You two can stay in Lee’s cabin.”

No one had been in Lee’s cabin since he died. Dad tried moving in there for a while to give Kayce space in the main house, but it didn’t last very long. Too many memories there.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “We can just stay here until we’ve figured everything out.”

“I’m sure, sweetheart,” he looked at me, “Lee would want you there.”

I nodded.

I called Kayce, and when he picked up, it was clear he already knew. Maybe it was the twin connection, or maybe Ryan had already talked to him. Either way, he was one step ahead.
I tried calling Jamie next. Straight to voicemail. I called again, but it was the same—voicemail. Frustration bubbled up, but I kept my cool and sent him a text:
I need to talk to you. Call me when you can.
It felt like one more unanswered thing in a day already full of them. But I needed to hear his voice. Needed him to know what was happening.
—----
It was getting late, and still no return call from Jamie. I’d eventually have to track him down, but that was a chore for another day. For now, I wanted to spend the evening with my cowboy.
So, I headed to the bunkhouse.
“When you and my boy get married, you gonna let him come over and lose at cards?” Colby chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
“When we get married, I might just teach him how to beat you boys at cards,” I replied, grabbing a beer from the fridge and tossing it to him and Ryan.
“I don’t lose,” Ryan said, glancing between us with a grin. “I just play better when you’re not looking.”
“Sure, cowboy,” I smirked. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“So come on, girl,” Laramie said from across the table. “Show me the ring.”
“What, this old thing?” I grinned, holding up my left hand.
Walker whistled, then looked over at Ryan. “Bet that set you back a month’s wages.”
“Worth every penny,” Ryan replied, his voice full of pride.
“Gonna be hard to rope with that thing on your hand,” Teeter chuckled. “You still gonna hang around here when you’re Sadie Sadie, married lady?”
“Where else would I be?” I raised an eyebrow. “You all would fall apart if I wasn’t around to stitch you back together.”
“Are we playing cards or what?” Colby asked, glancing around the table. “Alex, you in?”
“Sure, deal me in.” I tossed some cash into the pot. “Don’t cry when you’re broke tomorrow.”
“I won’t be the one crying,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “How many cards you want?”
“Give me two,” I said, discarding my two and watching him deal me two more.
“I’m going four,” Laramie declared, leaning back in her chair.
“Anybody named after a city,” Walker teased, “is a crooked fucking card player, if you ask me.”
“Hey,” Laramie fired back, her eyes narrowing. “Keep your comments to yourself or get in the game.” She reached over and pulled him in for a kiss, making everyone laugh.
“Hell, you know I work too hard for my money,” Walker chuckled, still smiling after the kiss.
“I gotta jump in here real quick,” Ryan smirked, looking over at them. “YOU work hard?” He looked around the table, incredulous. “Did you hear what that man just said?”
“I don’t know nothing about him working hard,” Colby chimed in, shaking his head. “I’m usually too busy working hard myself to notice.”
“Dude, you fucking kidding me?” Teeter chuckled. “Y’all wouldn’t know hard work if it crawled up your leg and sucked on your fucking pecker.”
I burst out laughing.
“Are you gonna let your girlfriend talk to me like that?” Ryan looked over at Colby, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t even start,” Colby groaned, shaking his head.
“Teeter, it’s official, isn’t it?” Ryan asked, his voice full of mischief.
“I don’t know,” she replied with a shrug. “He don’t like labels.”
I smirked. “Do y’all have a song?”
“Walker, now you can work for your money,” Ryan laughed, gesturing to him. “They need a song.”
“Oh yeah, I’ve got… Mm-hmm, they do,” Walker replied with a smirk, then started strumming his guitar. The melody began to take shape, and lyrics flowed easily. “Damn, take it easy, mama, won’t you lay your head down?”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“I ain’t your fucking mama, baby,” Teeter shot back, her eyes darting over to Colby.
“All’s I can say is, between all of y’all,” Jake laughed, shaking his head, “I’m feelin’ a big-ass shit show comin’ on.”
Walker didn’t miss a beat, his fingers dancing across the strings, the lyrics flowing through him. His gaze settled on Laramie, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s hard when you’re alone…” he sang, his voice low and teasing.
“Alone?” Laramie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “When have you ever been alone?”
I hadn’t noticed Lloyd sitting in the corner, brooding and fuming, not until he shot up from his chair, snatched Walker’s guitar from his hands, and slammed it against the wall with a violent crash.
“Hey! Hey, goddamn it, no fighting!” Ryan’s voice cut through the chaos. “No fighting, that’s the rule!”
“I ain’t fighting. I’m smashing a fucking guitar,” Lloyd shot back, his tone laced with anger.
“Fucking semantics.” I stood up from my chair, my voice sharp. “That was a shitty-ass thing to do.”
“You’re a fucking asshole!” Laramie screamed at him, fury in her eyes.
Ryan narrowed his eyes at Lloyd. “You’re done smashing it.”
Lloyd’s gaze shifted to Ryan. “I’ve known you since you were eighteen years old,” he spat. Then his eyes flicked over to me. “And you since you were born. You think you know what he is? You don’t know shit.”
“They don’t know me any more than you do,” Walker’s voice was low, but there was a fire in it as he stood, squaring off with Lloyd. “But I fucking know you. I’ve seen a thousand of you in prison, thinkin’ you’re some kind of bully ‘til a bigger bully comes along. We all know how that ends. With you on your fucking knees, bitch.”
Lloyd’s eyes darkened, and before anyone could move, he clicked his knife open and threw it with deadly accuracy. The blade lodged into Walker’s chest with a sickening thud.
“Oh fuck!” Walker shouted, stumbling back, disbelief written all over his face. Everyone jumped to their feet in panic.
“What the fuck, Lloyd?!” Laramie screamed, her voice cracking as she rushed to Walker’s side, catching his arm to steady him.
I was on my feet in an instant, moving to the other side of Walker, helping him sit back down in the chair. The room felt like it was spinning.
Ethan lunged at Lloyd, trying to stop him from making another move, but Lloyd swung violently, knocking him to the ground.
Colby and Ryan charged across the room, grabbing Lloyd by the arms to subdue him. Ryan managed to get him in a chokehold, his grip tightening until Lloyd finally passed out, collapsing in his arms. Colby and Ryan quickly cuffed him, the tension in the air palpable.
I focused on Walker, his face pale as the knife wound bled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Jake hovered behind me, his voice low and urgent. “Should we pull it out?”
“Can you get outta my light so I can see how deep it is or if anything’s gonna gush when you yank it out?” I snapped, trying to keep my focus.
“You want me to call the vet?” Jake asked, concern in his voice.
“Don’t call the vet, call a fucking doctor!” Walker barked, his face contorted in pain.
“We ain’t calling any doctor,” Ryan’s voice was firm as he took charge of the situation. He tossed Colby his keys. “Get my truck, bring it around front.”
I glanced at Walker’s wound, trying to keep him steady as everyone scrambled to move. The world felt like it was moving too fast, but I couldn’t stop to panic. Not yet.
I carefully helped Walker remove his shirt, making sure not to disturb the knife lodged in his chest. “Call the vet. I can’t tell if it hit an artery,” I said, my voice tight with urgency. “I don’t want to pull this out without knowing for sure. We need an x-ray.”
“Alright,” Jake replied, his voice low but steady.
“I’m going to…” Ryan murmured, glancing at me as he pointed toward the door. I nodded, catching a brief look of determination in his eyes before he and Colby headed out, dragging Lloyd along with them. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding in my chest.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I said, though my own voice betrayed the uncertainty in my heart. I tried to reassure both Laramie and Walker, but the shock was settling in, and I could see it in their eyes.
The vet arrived shortly after, hauling a portable X-ray machine behind him. I let out a quiet breath of relief as the X-ray screen flickered to life. The image was clear: no arteries were hit. The blade had lodged itself just under his clavicle.
“I’m aware of where it fucking is,” Walker grumbled, wincing slightly.
The vet scanned the screen one last time. “Didn’t hit the lung,” he said, his voice clinical. He turned to me. “Sterilize the site and prepare the sutures.” I nodded quickly and grabbed the supplies, but before I could act, the vet added, “The tissue is adhered to the blade. It’s going to be a messy extraction—considerable bleeding and pain. And I don’t have anything to give you for the pain.”
Walker gave a sharp laugh, his face twisted in pain. “What about Banamine?”
“We don’t know the long-term effects of Banamine on humans,” the vet replied, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Do I look like I’m gonna live to be fucking seventy?” Walker shot back, his voice low but laced with annoyance. “Just give me the damn thing and get it out of me.”
I stepped in, preparing the shot, knowing I had no time for hesitation. I gave him the injection, hoping it would dull the pain even a little. As I prepped the gauze to stop the bleeding, the vet moved in to extract the blade.
“Fuck, shit, fuck!” Walker shouted, his face contorted in agony. The pain meds hadn’t taken effect yet, and I could see the raw, intense suffering on his face.
“The blade hit the bone,” the vet said, glancing at me.
“Not according to the X-ray,” I responded, my voice firm despite the tension in the air.
“I need to check the x-ray again,” the vet muttered, as if second-guessing himself.
“Just pull it out!” Walker growled, his patience fraying.
I took a deep breath, gripping the knife handle firmly. “I got this,” I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure I did. With one sharp pull, I yanked the blade out of Walker’s chest, the room filling with the sound of his strained breath. I dropped the blade on the table and immediately applied pressure to the wound, trying to slow the bleeding.
Laramie knelt beside him, tears in her eyes. “Are you okay, baby?” Her voice cracked as she searched his face for any sign that he wasn’t on the brink of collapse.
“Just another Monday,” Walker quipped, though his voice was hoarse, and the pain was still evident in his eyes. Despite everything, he managed a small, strained grin.
—----
No one had a peaceful night’s sleep after everything that went down. Walker had camped out in Laramie’s trailer, and honestly, I didn’t blame him. After what had happened, he didn’t feel safe staying in the bunkhouse, and I could tell from the way he kept glancing around like the walls might close in on him. It wasn’t just the wound—everything felt wrong now.
Rip came storming through the bunkhouse door, Laramie and Walker trailing behind him. There was a tension in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Everybody in here?” Rip’s voice rang out, a little sharper than usual.
Laramie gave him a slight nod. “Where’s Mia?” Rip demanded.
“She left,” Laramie replied, her voice flat.
Rip didn’t waste time. “This here’s for you,” he said, handing Laramie two envelopes. “Give her the other one when you see her.” He turned to Teeter. “Pack your shit up.” He handed her an envelope, too. “You both are gone.”
“What the fuck did I do?” Teeter yelled, her face flushed with anger.
“It ain’t my decision,” Rip said coolly, but there was something in his eyes—something regretful, maybe even a little apologetic. He shifted his gaze to me. “You should stay clear of here for a while, too.”
Before anyone could say anything else, he turned to the rest of the hands. “The rest of y’all come with me.”
The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of what Rip had just said hanging in the air. I saw the look of defeat flash across Teeter’s face. She dropped her gaze, not looking at anyone as she took the envelope, her shoulders sagging. She shot Laramie a cold, cutting stare, her hurt obvious. It was clear the game Laramie had played with Lloyd and Walker had come back to bite her. And it had cost Teeter her place in this world, out of a home she’d grown used to.
I followed Teeter as she walked slowly to her bunk, her steps heavy. The air felt thick with the sting of what had just happened. It wasn’t just Teeter being thrown out—it was all of us. We were all getting swept up in the mess.
“I can try to talk to my dad,” I said quietly as I helped her pack her things. “After this whole thing blows over, maybe it’ll help.”
Teeter snorted, the sound bitter. “Ain’t no use,” she muttered, her voice low. “That’s how it always happens for me. As soon as I make somethin’ for myself, something always fucks it right up.”
Her words hit me hard, a punch to the gut. I couldn’t argue with her. I knew what it felt like to have everything fall apart, no matter how hard you tried to build. But hearing her say it… the resignation in her voice, the acceptance that it would never be different—it cut deep.
I watched her pack her things, the sadness in her movements evident. No words could fix this. No quick fix or promises would erase the sting.
“You need anything,” I said as we walked toward her beat-up old truck. “You call me. No matter what. Anytime.” I forced a small smile, trying to lighten the weight in the air. “I’m gonna need a bridesmaid, you know.”
Teeter let out a dry chuckle, kicking at the dirt with the toe of her boot. “Ain’t never had many friends who were women,” she admitted. Then, after a pause, she corrected herself. “Well… never had friends who were women.”
“Me neither,” I confessed, meeting her gaze. “Glad you changed that.”
She nodded, her expression unreadable, but there was something in her eyes—something softer than usual. A flicker of understanding. Of gratitude. She didn’t say anything else, just threw her bag into the truck bed and climbed in.
As the engine sputtered to life, I stepped back, watching as she pulled out of the yard.
Life at the ranch wouldn’t be the same without her.
—-----------
I leaned against the fence, arms folded, watching as the steers were separated from their mamas. This part of the job never sat right with me. And today, I wasn’t fucking doing it.
The calves bawled, their mothers calling back, the sound carrying across the pens like a mournful song. I understood the need—selling cattle was how we kept the ranch running. These steers were ready to move on, whether that meant better pastures or someone’s dinner plate. That was the way of things. Didn’t mean I had to like it.
I stayed put, boots planted in the dirt, letting someone else do the cutting while I just watched.
I lost the fight with my father. Or, more accurately, he never let me have it in the first place. He shut it down before it could even start.
He decided who worked here and who didn’t. Not me.
That realization hit fast and hard, though it shouldn’t have surprised me. Over the years, I’d seen hands come and go. I never got too close to many of them. Besides Lloyd—who’d been a fixture on this ranch before I even learned to walk—and Rip, who had fought for us, protected us, since the moment he set foot here.
It wasn’t until Ryan that I really started connecting with the hands. They stopped being just workers and became friends. Family.
And I hated the thought of losing them.
Teeter leaned against the fence, squared her shoulders, and faced my father like she was ready for a fight. And hell, she had every right to one.
“Excuse me, sir,” she called out. “Can I have a word?”
Dad glanced at Rip. “She talking to me?”
“I believe she said she wants a word,” Rip translated dryly.
Dad huffed. “I can’t understand a damn thing coming outta her mouth.”
I stepped in a little closer, ready to back her up, but I knew this was a battle she had to fight on her own.
“Sir,” she started, voice steady, “whatever’s between Walker and Lloyd, it ain’t got nothing to do with me. Or Laramie, for that matter. That was just an excuse. I was the first one up every morning and the last one done. Ask him,” she motioned to Rip. “Ask him if anyone works harder’n me.”
“She ain’t lying, sir,” Rip confirmed.
Dad studied her for a long moment. “So the fight wasn’t over you?”
“No, sir,” she answered, a tinge of frustration in her voice.
“You just did your job?”
“Every damn day,” she said without hesitation.
“Never fooled around with anyone in the bunkhouse?”
“Ain’t nobody ever said I couldn’t,” she countered.
“Common sense says you shouldn’t,” Dad shot back. “’Cause the next fight will be over you.”
Teeter swallowed hard, but she didn’t back down. “So all that ‘this is my home forever’ talk is just bullshit?” Her voice wavered, but she held firm as she yanked her shirt to the side, revealing the brand on her chest. “Scarred for life, and it don’t mean nothin’?”
Dad didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pointed off to the side. “Wait over there a minute.”
That was it. That was all he said. But it was enough.
The brand meant something. It meant everything.
As he rode off, Rip turned to her. “Teeter—go get your gear. Put it back in the bunkhouse.”
She stood frozen for a second, like she didn’t believe what she’d just heard. Then, catching my eye, she let out a sharp breath, nodded, and took off toward the bunkhouse.
She’d fought for her place. And won.
—-------
Teeter’s return was marked with a celebration—gathered on the sofa, eyes glued to the television, watching the horses my father and I had bought compete. The tension in the room crackled as we waited to see who would take home the prize.
“Yeah, motherfucker!” Teeter hollered at the screen as our horse cut the steer with precision.
“Whoo! That is huge,” Ryan shouted, his excitement infectious.
“Is that a Yellerstone horse?” Teeter asked, squinting at the screen.
“Yep, that’s one of ours,” I told her, grinning. “The last few have been.”
Ryan slung an arm around me, still buzzing with energy. “Baby, when we get married, you think Travis will finally let me ride one of those sons of bitches?”
I smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see what I can do, cowboy.”
Colby shook his head, turning to Teeter. “It’s not Yellerstone, it’s Yellowstone.”
“Whatever you say, baby,” she smirked, “just take your pants off.”
Ryan scoffed. “Other room. Take your pants off in the other room.”
The bunkhouse quieted as the door swung open. Lloyd stepped inside, his gaze locked on Walker. A heavy silence settled over us as we braced for whatever was coming next—half expecting another punch to be thrown.
But instead of fists, Lloyd handed Walker a guitar case.
“I don’t know shit about ‘em,” Lloyd admitted. “Guy at the store said it was a good one.”
Walker took the case, setting it down before flipping it open. He ran a hand over the smooth wood, then pulled the guitar out, inspecting it like it was the first real thing he’d owned in a long time.
“Well,” Walker said, his voice edged with amusement, “it’s a hell of a lot better’n the one you fuckin’ tore up.”
“As it should be,” Lloyd replied, his tone gruff but sincere.
Walker strummed a few chords, the warm, rich sound filling the room.
“Sounds good,” I told him, throwing Lloyd an approving smile.
Walker glanced up, meeting Lloyd’s eyes. “Anything you’d like to hear?”
Lloyd hesitated for only a second before shrugging. “Hell, I don’t know… just play me one.”
We listened as Walker played a soulful song for Lloyd. The tension that was once in the bunkhouse had been forgotten. They may not be the best of friends after that, but they now had an understanding. And that was enough.
“Hey, cowboy,” I murmured, slipping my arm around his waist, pressing in close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. “I got something I want to show you. Grab your coat.”
Ryan quirked a brow, his blue eyes studying me with curiosity. “More surprises?”
I smiled, tilting my head as I looked up at him. “I think you’ll like it.”
He didn’t question me further, just grabbed my jacket from the hook, helping me slip my arms into it before shrugging into his own. He adjusted the collar, then reached for his hat, settling it into place with an easy familiarity.
“Ready?” he asked, reaching for my hand.
“I am,” I said, threading my fingers through his as we stepped outside into the night.
The snow fell softly around us, catching in his hair and the brim of his hat, dusting the ground in a thin, glittering layer. The cold was sharp, but the warmth of his hand in mine was enough to keep the chill at bay. Our boots crunched over the frost as I led him toward Lee’s cabin, the old place standing quiet and still in the moonlight.
Ryan looked around as we approached, his thumb absently stroking along the back of my hand. “What are we doing out here?”
“You’ll see,” I said, reaching for the door.
I flipped on the light as we stepped inside. The cabin smelled of aged wood and lingering memories, but it didn’t feel haunted—not anymore. It felt like something waiting to be filled, a space ready to be lived in again.
Ryan glanced around, taking in the familiar room, his expression unreadable.
“What do you think about staying here with me?” I asked, turning to face him fully.
His gaze snapped back to mine, his brow furrowing slightly. “For the night?”
I took a slow breath, steadying myself before stepping closer, placing a hand against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my palm.
“For our life,” I said softly.
Ryan stared at me for a long moment, searching my face, the weight of my words settling between us. Then, slowly, a smile curved his lips, warm and certain.
“You really want that?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost reverent.
I nodded. “I do.”
His arms came around me, pulling me against him, his hold strong and sure. “Then I guess I better make myself at home.”

Chapter Text

I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the drive. The cold had settled in, and the snow was starting to fall in slow, lazy flakes, the kind that promised a long, miserable trip. But Jamie hadn’t returned my calls or texts. Every time, straight to fucking voicemail. No explanation. No acknowledgment. Just silence.
It was fucking infuriating.
I knew he’d have some excuse—something rational, something carefully worded, something that dodged the real reason he’d been avoiding me. But damn it, I wanted my brother back. I wanted to look him in the eyes and get my own answers, not the ones Beth had decided were true. She’d unilaterally declared Jamie the mastermind behind the attack on our family, and maybe she was right. Maybe she wasn’t. But I needed to hear it from him.
More than that, I needed him to know I was still here. That no matter how deep the divide between him and the rest of us, I wasn’t ready to throw away my brother.
And if he’d just answered his damn phone, I wouldn’t have to drive four hours to Helena in the middle of a goddamn snowstorm to tell him that.
I sang along to the song on the radio, my voice barely carrying over the mix of '90s country, hip-hop, and pop blasting through the speakers. It was the kind of playlist I wouldn’t dare play with anyone else in the truck—too personal, too telling. But out here, alone on the open road, I could sing every word, off-key and unfiltered, without a damn bit of shame.

I belted out 9 to 5 at the top of my lungs as I pulled into the parking lot of the government office, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. A few people passed by, glancing my way, but I barely acknowledged them. It was Dolly—there was no way in hell I was stopping mid-song.
By the time the last note played, I was fired up and ready to storm into my brother’s office. If he wouldn’t answer my damn calls, I’d get my answers face-to-face.
I stepped through the doors of the state Capitol building. Got patted down and walked through metal detectors.

“What floor is Jamie Dutton’s office on?” I asked the guard.

“Second floor, ma’am,” he said.

I stormed up the stairs. I stopped and straightened my top before I walked through the door.

“Do you have an appointment?” his secretary asked.

“I don’t need a fucking appointment to see my brother,” I grumbled as I moved past her and into Jamie’s office.
“What are you doing here?” Jamie looked up from his computer screen.

“I came to see if you need a new phone,” I stated.
Jamie sighed, rubbing his temples. “My phone works just fine.”
“Funny, because every time I call, it goes straight to voicemail,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “So either your phone is broken, or you’re just ignoring me.”
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose like I was already exhausting him. “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to answer your sister’s calls?” I challenged, stepping closer to his desk. “Too busy to let me know you’re still alive? Because I had to drive four hours in the snow just to lay eyes on you.”
Jamie glanced toward the door, probably wondering if his secretary was listening. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I scoffed. “And why the hell not? Am I gonna tarnish your precious image, Jamie? Or are you just scared to look me in the eye and tell me the truth?”
He let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already done with this conversation. “Alex…”
“Alex, what?” I huffed, dropping into the chair across from him, folding my arms. “Did you decide I wasn’t worth your time when you couldn’t use me to manipulate your way back home? Or is this about the ranch—seeing what you can weasel out of it before you hand it over to the highest bidder?”
Jamie’s jaw tightened, and his fingers curled against the desk. “I’m trying to protect the ranch,” he said, his voice calmer than I expected.
I let out a sharp laugh. “By leasing it out to people who want to steal it away from us?”
“If I didn’t, they would actually steal it from us,” he snapped, eyes flashing with frustration.
I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes. “You really believe that, don’t you? You think cutting a deal with them makes you some kind of savior.” I shook my head. “You’re not protecting the ranch, Jamie. You’re selling pieces of it off and calling it a sacrifice.”
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he looked away, his fingers drumming against the desk. “You don’t understand the position I’m in.”
“No,” I shot back. “You don’t understand the position we’re in. The people you’re working with don’t just want a piece of the ranch—they want all of it. You’re feeding the wolves, Jamie, and you’re too damn blind to see they’re still going to eat you.”
Jamie sighed, rubbing his temples like he was trying to ward off a headache. “This is the only way to keep most of the ranch whole,” he insisted. “Dad wouldn’t sell it to them outright.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “Do you really think the chunk you leased for the fucking airport is going to satiate them?” I leaned forward, voice sharp and unrelenting. “They’re not just going to take their piece and walk away, Jamie. They’ll keep coming back, taking more and more, until there’s nothing left.”
Jamie pressed his lips into a thin line, his shoulders tense. “It’s what I can do for now.”
I stared at him, feeling the frustration start to twist into something else—something heavier. “Jamie,” I said, my voice cracking despite myself. “I miss you. And you’re here being fucking stupid.”
He flinched, just barely, but I caught it. It was the first real reaction I’d seen from him that wasn’t calculated, wasn’t part of the defensive wall he’d built around himself. For a moment, there was silence between us, thick with everything unspoken, everything lost between who we used to be and who we were now.
Jamie let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming anxiously against the desk. “I don’t think he ever really wanted me,” he admitted, voice quieter now, like he wasn’t sure he even wanted to say it out loud.
I tilted my head, studying him. “Dad?” I asked, though I already knew. This was the first real conversation we’d had since he found out the truth about his birth parents. And yeah, I’d snooped—because how the hell else was I supposed to find out anything?
“Dad loves you, Jamie. That’s why what you’re doing hurts him so much.”
He shook his head, looking down like he was trying to keep himself together. “I found him.”
I stilled. “The asshole that contributed to your DNA?” I asked, my tone sharpening. “The same one that took your birth mother away from you?”
Jamie’s jaw tightened, and I watched his expression shift—torn, conflicted, caught between the father who raised him and the man whose blood ran through his veins. It was like watching a man stand at the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to turn back or take the leap.
Jamie’s lips pressed into a thin line, his fingers tightening into a fist before he released them, exhaling like he was trying to keep control of himself. “He’s not like that,” he said, his voice defensive, but not angry. “I reached out to him to find out who I am. Who I could be if I wasn’t John Dutton’s son. Because, face it, I never was his son—not in the way that mattered.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “You didn’t need some stranger to tell you who you are, Jamie.” My voice softened, but the frustration remained. “I know who you are. I’ve always known. But I can’t make you see it.” I leaned forward, locking eyes with him. “You’re my brother. I don’t care if we don’t share blood. That never mattered to me.”
Jamie swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he looked away. “How long have you known?”
I hesitated for only a second before answering. “I didn’t know for sure until you did,” I admitted. “But I suspected.”
His eyes flicked back to mine, searching.
“I remembered the way Mom talked about giving birth to me and Kayce—how hard it was, how much pain she was in. She talked about how big Lee was, how easy Beth was. But every time she talked about you, she never mentioned any of that. You were always her ‘gift from God.’”
Jamie let out a shaky breath, looking down at his hands. He didn’t argue, didn’t fight me on it. And for the first time in a long time, I saw something flicker in his expression—something vulnerable, something lost.
Jamie’s jaw clenched, his fingers drumming restlessly against the desk. “Don’t let that man you just met convince you that we’re not your family,” I told him, leaning forward. “That I’m not your family.”
His eyes flicked up to mine, something uncertain flickering there. “You’ll always be my family, Alex,” he admitted softly. “But I don’t know what that means anymore.”
I exhaled sharply, frustration and heartache mixing in my chest. “Maybe it’s time you figured it out.” I studied him, waiting for him to argue, to fight me on this. “That man is a snake, Jamie. He’s using you. Not because you’re his ‘son’—because he was never your father. Not in any way that matters.”
Jamie flinched, but I didn’t let up.
“I’m tired of seeing you let people walk all over you. You’re smarter than that. You’re better than that.”
His expression darkened. “It’s not that simple, Alex.”
I shook my head. “You need to make it that simple.” My voice softened just enough to let him know I wasn’t just mad—I was hurt. “I’m getting married soon. And I need you there.”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Married?”
I nodded. “Yeah. And I want my brother standing there with me.”
Jamie ran a hand down his face, exhaling heavily. “Jesus, Alex…”
“Yeah, well, you’ve been a little out of the loop.” I forced a smirk, trying to lighten the moment, but the weight between us was still there. “So… are you coming or what?”
“If you still want me there,” he responded, “I’ll be there.”
“I want you there,” I smiled at him, “I’ll make sure you and Beth are seated on the opposite sides of the ranch but I want you there.” I stood from my seat and rounded the desk. Slipping my arms around his waist, “Just answer your damn phone when I call.”
Jamie hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me, his hold tight like he was afraid to let go. “I will,” he promised, his voice quieter now.
I sighed against his shoulder. “Good. Because I hate having to drive all the way to Helena just to knock some sense into you.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “I’d say I’ll do better, but… you know me.”
I pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m not holding my breath.” I smirked, patting his chest. “But I’m holding you to that promise.”
Jamie nodded, something unreadable passing over his expression. “I’ll be there, Alex.”
Satisfied, I stepped back. “Good. Now, I gotta get back before the roads turn to shit.”
Jamie watched me for a moment, then gave me a small, genuine smile. “Drive safe.”
“I always do.” I shot him a wink before turning toward the door.
I didn’t know if I had really gotten through to him, but at least for now, he was still my brother. And that was enough.
—--------------
My phone rang just a couple of hours after I pulled onto the highway back home.
Ryan
I clicked the button on the truck, letting the sound of his voice play through the speakers, “This better be good you interrupted my duet with George Strait.”
I heard him chuckle, “Sorry to interrupt you and George, baby. Just wanted to see if you were headed back, yet. Snow’s starting to come down heavy here.”
“I should be home in an hour or so,” I told him, “almost to the Bozeman exit.”
“Be careful, if you want I can meet you there and bring you home,” he said.
I smiled at the offer, warmth spreading through my chest. “That’s sweet, cowboy, but I think I can handle it. I’ve driven through worse.”
“I know,” he admitted, “but I’d feel better if I was the one behind the wheel, getting you home safe.”
I glanced at the snowflakes hitting my windshield, heavier now than when I left Helena. “I appreciate it, Ryan. But if it gets too bad, I’ll pull over.”
He sighed. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
There was a brief pause before he spoke again. “Alright. But you call me if anything changes. I’ll come get you, no matter where you are.”
My grip on the wheel tightened slightly at the sincerity in his voice. “I know you would,” I murmured. “I love you, you know that?”
“I do,” he said, and I could practically hear his smile. “And I love you, too. Now hurry home.”
“I’ll be home soon,” I assured him with a smile, then started singing, “’Cause I’m carrying your love with me…” My voice wasn’t perfect, but I knew he’d appreciate it.
Ryan chuckled, the warmth in his laughter making my chest tighten in the best way. “Alright, you and George stay safe out there, baby.”
“We will,” I promised. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Can’t wait.”
The call ended, but his voice lingered in my mind. I glanced at the darkening sky, snowflakes swirling faster against my headlights. The storm was picking up, but I wasn’t worried. Not when I had someone waiting for me—someone who loved me, someone who’d drop everything to come find me if I needed him.
—---
I shivered as I climbed out of the truck, my breath visible in the freezing air. Pulling my coat tighter around me, I trudged toward the bunkhouse, the fresh snow crunching under my boots.
“It is cold as a son of a bitch out there,” I grumbled, pushing through the door. The warmth inside hit me instantly, and I stomped the snow off my boots on the rug, shaking off the chill.
Ryan was already on his feet, reaching for me. “You made it just in time, baby.” He helped me shrug out of my coat, his hands lingering just long enough to send warmth radiating through me before he wrapped me in his arms.
I exhaled against his chest, relaxing into him. “What’d I make it just in time for?”
Ryan tilted his head toward the TV. “Think your dad’s gonna be on.”
I pulled back, furrowing my brow. “My dad? Why the hell is he on TV?”
Colby, sprawled out on the couch, turned the volume up. “Guess we’re about to find out.”
I turned toward the screen just as the image of my father appeared. He stood at a podium, a suit and his ever-present cowboy hat making him look just as out of place as he did in a church pew. His stance was solid, immovable, like the land he’d spent his life protecting. Then his voice rang out, steady and firm.
“If it’s progress you seek, do not vote for me.” His words carried weight, the kind that settled deep in your bones. “I am the opposite of progress. I’m the wall that it bashes against, and I will not be the one who breaks.”
I stared at the screen, barely breathing.
My father was running for governor.
—---------------
I ran my fingers along the worn edge of the wooden table, memories of Lee lingering in every inch of this cabin. The scent of aged pine and leather still clung to the air, mixing with the faint chill seeping in through the windows. My father stood beside me, arms crossed, his gaze heavy with understanding as he watched me take it all in.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me changing things, Dad?” My voice was softer than I intended, the weight of my hesitation pressing down on me.
He exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment before he turned to face me fully. “It’s yours now, sweetheart.”
I nodded, but doubt still gnawed at the edges of my resolve.
Sensing it, he stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand over my heart. “Lee’s still here.” His touch was firm but gentle. “You’re not pushing him out. He’s giving you room.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, glancing around the cabin once more. It still felt like him, but maybe—just maybe—there was space for me here too.
I ran a cloth over the wooden furniture, clearing away the thin layer of dust that had settled in the quiet absence of life. Lee’s things were still here, untouched, as if he might walk through the door at any moment. Carefully, I folded his shirts and placed them into a box, but I hesitated when I reached his hat. It hung on the rack by the door, exactly where he’d last left it. I couldn’t take it down. Not yet. It was a piece of him, a silent reminder that he’d been here, that he’d lived.
As I turned back toward the table, my fingers brushed against the edge of a framed photograph. I picked it up, a small smile tugging at my lips.
“I must’ve been six or seven here?” I held it up for Dad to see. The image was of Lee, standing tall with his hand wrapped around the reins of a horse, while I sat on top, my hair in messy pigtails, my little hands gripping the saddle horn.
Dad took the picture from me, studying it with quiet reverence.
“I remember that day,” I murmured, nostalgia warming my voice. “He was helping me because my legs couldn’t reach the stirrups.”
A flicker of emotion crossed Dad’s face, something between pride and grief. “He always looked out for you.”
I nodded, pressing the frame close to my chest for a moment before setting it gently back on the table. “Yeah,” I whispered. “He did.”
I exhaled, feeling the weight of my own thoughts settle over me. “I went to see Jamie,” I confessed, almost as if I needed permission to say it out loud—as if admitting it might betray the rest of my family. But he was still my brother. That had to mean something.
Dad didn’t look surprised. “I know it wasn’t him that was behind what happened,” he said simply.
I nodded, absorbing his words. “I don’t know if Beth really believes Jamie is responsible, or if she just needs another reason to hate him. Something that will make you hate him, too.”
Dad let out a slow sigh, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I know, sweetheart.” His voice was heavy, edged with something unspoken. He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he gathered up the boxes I had packed and headed for the door.
I followed him onto the porch, watching as he loaded them onto the back of the truck. The cold air bit at my skin, but it didn’t stop the warmth that curled in my chest at his next words.
“The man behind it is rotting in prison as we speak.”
I studied his face, searching for any hint of doubt. There was none. It should have been reassuring. It should have been enough. But then why did it still feel like something wasn’t finished?
My stomach twisted with the weight of Dad’s words, but I held my ground. “How much longer is he gonna be in prison?” I asked, my voice steady, but the question still heavy with the underlying rage I couldn’t shake.
Dad’s response was quick and decisive. “The rest of his miserable fucking life,” he said, his tone hard. Then, with a dark glint in his eyes, he added, “I’m making arrangements so that the life he has left isn’t much longer.”
The words hit me like a slap, and I froze. Dad had never spoken like this to me—not about the violence, the dirty work, the things that had to be done to keep the ranch safe. That was Rip’s world, Kayce’s world. Not mine. But here we were, standing on the porch with the biting wind between us, and he was telling me something that made my blood run cold.
I swallowed hard. “Good.” The word came out sharp, almost a whisper. “The less air on this earth I have to share with him, the better.”
Dad’s gaze softened slightly as he turned back to the truck. But the heaviness of the moment didn’t lift. I knew exactly what he meant. And I couldn’t help but feel that, for all the power and protection he offered, there was a price. There always was.
Dad grunted as he dropped the last box from the truck, rubbing his back with an exaggerated groan. “You ready to unload all of your boxes?” he asked, his voice a mix of humor and exhaustion.
I flashed him a grin, leaning against the truck. “You ready to get rid of me already?” I teased, giving him a playful look.
He smirked, shaking his head. “You’re not going far, I can toss a rock at your door from the back porch,” he said with a shrug, the familiar weight of his love and protection woven in the casual remark.
I smiled, the lump in my throat a little tighter than I’d expected. “I love you, Dad.”
He grunted again, this time more in frustration than fatigue. “Why do you have so much shit?” he groaned as he lugged the last of the boxes from his truck bed.
I laughed, shaking my head at him. “Sorry, I’m not more like Kayce, who’s been wearing the same two pairs of jeans for the last five years.”
Dad let out a short, amused snort, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened seemed to lift just a little bit. We stood there together, the air filled with the scent of wood and earth, the day slowly fading into the evening light. It felt like home in a way I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he said as he brought the last of my boxes into the cabin.
“Ok, Dad,” I watched him walk back to the big house before stepping back inside to make Lee’s cabin a home for me and Ryan.
I unpacked everything and glanced at the clock, it would still be another hour before Ryan came back from the fields. So I opened my laptop to search for the name of the man who ordered the hit on my father. His mug shot flashed on the screen. His eyes were cold and unnerving.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the mug shot on the screen, feeling a chill run down my spine. His face, cold and calculating, seemed to burn into my mind as though he could reach through the screen and drag me into whatever dark world he came from. I shook my head, frustration building.
This man—this stranger—had chosen to go after our family, and I still couldn’t piece together why. He didn’t know us. He didn’t care about our history. It didn’t make sense.
I clicked through a few more pages, trying to find some kind of connection, something that explained why this guy was so determined to target my family. The more I read, the more I felt like I was hitting a brick wall. A name here, a few records there, but nothing that pointed to a clear reason. Nothing that told me how his hatred had been aimed at us.
I glanced out the window, hearing the sound of horses in the distance, a reminder of everything my father and the family had built. This wasn’t just some random act of violence; it was a message. But who was the message for? Who was the real target?
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Why us?" I whispered to myself.
The front door creaked open, pulling me from my thoughts. Ryan’s voice filtered in, low and steady. “You still at it?”
I closed the laptop with a soft click. “Yeah. Just... trying to make sense of things.”
Ryan stepped inside, wiping his boots on the mat. His gaze fell to the laptop, then back to me. “You sure you want to know everything? You can only fight what's coming at you if you understand it.”
I nodded slowly, but the words felt hollow. I didn’t know if I was ready for the kind of truth this would bring, but I didn’t have much of a choice anymore.
"Where's all your stuff?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed. "You not ready to leave the bunkhouse yet?"
He dropped his duffle bag onto the floor with a thud, giving me that grin I couldn’t help but melt for. "I’ll bring my trunk up here later."
I raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the lone bag. "That’s all you’ve got? I just unpacked a dozen or so boxes, and I still have a closet full of clothes in my room."
He leaned against the doorframe, looking me up and down with a smirk. "Baby, you have too much shit."
I rolled my eyes playfully, shaking my head. "You sound like my dad."
Ryan chuckled and slid his arms around my waist, pulling me in closer. "Well, your dad's not wrong." He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against my temple. "I don't need all that stuff. Just need you, a few shirts, and some boots to get me through."
I laughed, feeling the weight of the last few days melt off me in his arms. "You’re lucky you’re cute," I said, resting my head against his chest. "If you weren’t, I might’ve packed you a suitcase just to make up for it."
He chuckled again, rubbing my back gently. "Good thing I’m cute, then."
"Yeah, it’s a good thing," I agreed, looking up at him with a soft smile. "But seriously, don’t let me catch you leaving the rest of your stuff in that bunkhouse for too long. I’m not running back and forth for your shit."
He kissed me again, this time on the lips, and pulled back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Guess I better get started, huh?"
“That can wait until later,” I said, sliding my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Dinner is in the oven.”
He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a playful smile. “Dinner?”
I nodded, smirking back at him. “Hope you like deep dish, cowboy. I got the best frozen pizza money could buy.”
Ryan laughed, his chest rumbling against me. “Well, now you’ve really got me intrigued. You sure know how to spoil a guy.”
I grinned up at him. “Hey, it’s all about the little things.”
His arms tightened around me, and his face softened with that look I loved. “Little things are my favorite,” he murmured, leaning down to press his lips to mine in a slow, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he looked at me with that mischievous glint. “But, you know, after dinner, I might just have to claim the rest of the night for myself.”
“Good thing I’m not planning on going anywhere,” I whispered, letting the heat between us build, knowing that once dinner was done, we’d both be ready to settle into something a lot more... exciting.
I pulled the pizza out of the oven, sliced it up, and we settled onto the couch, the warmth of the pizza and Ryan’s arm around me offering comfort after the day’s weight. We turned on the television, and the soft hum of the screen filled the room as we both dug into our food.
The lady on the news had a steady voice, but the story she was reporting hit too close to home. “...The local militia responsible for the shooting at Ruby’s Diner, which tragically took the life of Sheriff Donnie Haskell. The assailants were neutralized by Former Livestock Commissioner John Dutton, who has since been lauded for his heroics.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. They were talking about my dad, the man I had spent my entire life idolizing, but now the world saw him in a different light. “My father can’t keep himself out of bad situations,” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I leaned back against Ryan’s chest.
The reporter continued, “...and thanks to his quick thinking, several other lives were spared in what could have been a much deadlier situation.”
Ryan looked down at me, sensing the weight of my words. “Your dad really can’t help but get into the thick of things, can he?”
I nodded, but my gaze stayed fixed on the screen as they showed footage of my father standing tall, his presence commanding. It wasn’t just the heroism on display—it was the reminder that he was always in the thick of it, making hard choices. That wasn’t always easy to stomach.
“I’ve always thought of Dad as a hero,” I muttered, barely aware I was speaking out loud. “Now the rest of Montana knows it too. Whether he likes it or not, people are seeing him as something more than just the tough rancher.”
Ryan’s arm tightened around me in a way that was meant to comfort. “He doesn’t need the spotlight, but he’s not the type to shy away from what’s right.”
I exhaled deeply, letting his words sink in. “I just… I don’t know, Ryan. I hate that he’s always out there, making those decisions that affect us all. But I can’t deny that he’s always been there for us, too.”
Ryan was quiet for a moment before he kissed the top of my head. “Maybe that’s why you’re so much like him, Alex. You carry that same fire.”
“This can only help him with his run for governor,” I told him. “Come on, let's head down to the bunkhouse. There’s not enough noise here, and I’m feeling antsy.”
I slipped my boots on and tugged on my coat.
“I think you just need an audience,” he chuckled as he followed after me.
“I don’t need an audience,” I smirked, pulling my coat tighter around me as we stepped out into the cold night air. “I just need a little chaos to take my mind off things.”
Ryan shook his head, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Uh-huh, and where do you always find that chaos?”
I grinned. “The bunkhouse.”
As we made our way down the path, the distant sound of laughter and music spilled from the bunkhouse, a stark contrast to the quiet stillness of Lee’s cabin. I could already picture Colby and Teeter arguing over a card game, Lloyd giving them both hell.
Ryan opened the door, and the warmth and noise hit us instantly.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Colby called out.
“Alex, thought you were too fancy for us up in the big house?” Walker added with a teasing smirk.
“Well, someone has to class up the joint,” I gave him a grin, “So I guess tonight, Fancy is my name.” I watched as Rip stood behind Carter at the table. The kid was holding his own in the game against the others.
“Y’all want in the next hand?” Colby asked.
“I think I’ll just watch and learn from the master,” I said.
“It’s about time you realized it,” Colby responded.
“Not you,” I chuckled, sliding my chair next to Carter, “Looks like he’s taking you for all you’re worth.”
Carter smirked, glancing up at me with that spark of mischief in his eyes. “Ain’t my fault they underestimate me.”
“You hear that?” I nudged Colby with my elbow. “Kid’s got confidence.”
Colby huffed, shuffling the deck. “Confidence don’t mean shit if you can’t back it up.”
Carter leaned forward, stacking his small pile of winnings. “You sure about that? ‘Cause last I checked, I got more chips than you.”
The bunkhouse erupted into laughter, and even Rip cracked a small, approving grin behind Carter.
I grinned at the kid, popping the top off my beer. “You keep that up, and they’re gonna stop letting you play.”
Walker strummed his guitar from the corner. “Kid’s gonna clean ‘em out and start running the place soon.”
Ryan dropped into the chair beside me, draping an arm over the back of it. “Long as he don’t start bossing me around, I got no problem with it.”
Carter shot him a cheeky grin. “No promises.”
I glanced up at Rip, smirking. “You and the missus already having a lovers’ spat?”
He let out a low chuckle. “Nah, Beth’s up there getting her ass whooped by your father.”
I nodded knowingly. “Glad I decided to come here instead of there tonight.”
Across the table, Colby whistled, shaking his head. “Look at this kid. I think he’s done this before.”
“It’s my first time,” Carter insisted, casually shuffling the cards in the air with practiced ease.
Ryan narrowed his eyes as he picked up his hand. “You’re flipping cards like a damn Vegas dealer.”
Carter grinned. “First time actually playing.” Then, without hesitation, he tossed money into the pile. “Triple it.”
Ryan leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Triple the bet, huh?”
“This little card-sharking motherfucker,” Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head.
“Ain’t no kid,” Teeter groaned. “He’s just a motherfucking, card-sharkin’ little elf.”
“Yeah, you tell him, baby,” Colby said, amused.
Teeter’s lips curled into a grin. “I love it when you call me baby. You wanna scratch me behind the ears?”
“No,” Colby deadpanned.
“What about my other ears?” she teased, waggling her brows.
“Don’t start,” Rip warned, cutting his eyes at them. “And don’t listen to them, kid.”
I rolled my eyes. “Get a room, you two.”
Carter ignored the banter, keeping his focus on the game. “Here’s the flop.”
Ryan arched a brow. “The flop? He even knows the terminology. Where the hell did you find him, a goddamn circus?”
“A poker circus?” Colby scoffed. “That’s just disrespectful.”
“I love it,” Rip admitted, watching the kid with amusement.
Colby eyed me, suspicious. “You know what he’s got.”
I smirked but kept my lips sealed. “I ain’t saying shit.”
Colby huffed. “Alright, well…”
“Check,” Lloyd called.
“Ain’t no checking today,” Carter declared, tossing another twenty onto the table.
Lloyd let out a defeated sigh, shaking his head as he folded. “Well, hell, looks like it’s down to the kid and the unluckiest card player on earth now.” Glancing over at Ryan.
Walker shook his head as he stepped away from the table. “I wonder how that’s gonna work out.”
“Do we, though?” I arched a brow, watching Carter with growing amusement.
“All right, he’s got something,” Teeter muttered, narrowing her eyes at the kid.
Carter calmly turned over the cards. “And the river.”
Ryan leaned forward, smirking. “You’re fucked, kid.”
Carter tilted his head, completely unfazed. “Do you have a boat?”
Colby groaned. “Listen to this fucking kid. Boat.”
Teeter suddenly launched into an indecipherable rant, her words tumbling together in a chaotic mess. “He’s a cheatin’ little mother-fuckin’ squirrely-haired twat-mouth cunt mother-fuckin’ face of a death nose—”
Carter blinked and turned to me. “What’s wrong with her?”
I smirked. “What do you mean?”
“Did she bite off her tongue or something?”
The table erupted in laughter.
“Fuck you! Don’t laugh at that shit!” Teeter barked, crossing her arms.
Rip laughed so hard he started choking.
Lloyd glanced over, confused. “What the hell’s so funny back there?”
Rip, still gasping for air, managed between fits of laughter, “He’s kicking your ass and talking shit at the same time.”
Carter leaned forward, cool as ever. “Pot’s right. Let’s do it.” He locked eyes with Ryan.
Ryan exhaled, shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s right. I do have the boat, you little bastard. Aces up.” He turned over an ace and a seven.
Teeter smirked. “I think it’s past your bedtime, kid.”
Carter didn’t blink. “So did I.”
Then, as smooth as ever, he flipped over two aces.
The whole table groaned as Carter casually slid the chips in front of him.
Colby threw his hands in the air. “He had the same exact cards last time.”
I grinned. “Y’all sure you weren’t just set up by a real card shark?”

Chapter Text

Ryan had gone to the Livestock office and I was alone in the cabin. I wasn’t feeling the desire to cut cattle in the cold. I could have used that as a distraction from what was really going on in my mind. I opened my laptop and stared at the man, Terrell Riggins, the one who ordered the hit on my family. I didn’t buy the story that he was doing it to get perks with the rest of his fellow inmates.
There was more to it—there had to be. No one risked that much, orchestrated something that brutal, just for a little extra protection behind bars.
I leaned forward, studying his face on the screen. His eyes were cold, empty, like he had nothing left to lose. But something about him nagged at me. Pieces of the puzzle weren’t fitting together, and until they did, I wouldn’t be able to let it go.
I drummed my fingers against the table, debating my next move. If there was more to this—if someone else had their hand in what happened—I needed to know.
I picked up the phone and dialed the only other lawyer I knew besides Jamie—Randy Harper. I’d grown up around Randy, though not directly. He ran in Jamie’s circle back in school, which meant I knew enough about him to trust him more than most lawyers—but not by much.
"District Attorney Randy Harper’s office, how may I help you?" his secretary answered, all polite professionalism.
"Morning. I need to speak with Randy," I said.
"May I ask who's calling?"
"Alex Dutton."
Her tone shifted just a little, like the name carried weight. "I’ll get you right through, Ms. Dutton."
The line barely clicked before Randy’s voice came through, warm and familiar. "Well, you’re not the Dutton I expected to hear from. You calling about that protester, Summer Higgins?"
I smirked. "I wasn’t, but now I’m curious."
He chuckled. "Yeah, well, can’t give you details on an open case. Thought your brother would’ve taught you that much."
"Jamie teaches me plenty. I just have selective memory."
"I bet you do," he said, amused. "So what can I do for you, Alex?"
I leaned back in my chair, glancing at my laptop screen. "I need some information on Terrell Riggins."
There was a brief pause, just long enough for me to hear the gears turning in his head. "That’s an interesting name to bring up. What exactly are you looking for?"
I already had my answer ready. "You know how my dad likes to give inmates a second chance by putting them to work on the ranch," I said smoothly, keeping my voice even. That part was true. The rest needed to sound just as believable. "With everything that’s gone down this past year, I just want to make sure the next guy he hires doesn’t come with any... extra baggage."
Randy let out a low hum. "Uh-huh. And what kind of baggage are we talking about here?"
"The kind that could get someone killed," I admitted.
That seemed to get his full attention. “I’ll see what I can find, but if I come back with answers, you better be ready for them.”
I wasn’t sure I ever would be—but that didn’t matter. “Just let me know when you have something.”
“Will do,” he said. “And Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful where you step. Some holes go deeper than you think.”
I needed answers, but all I had right now was time. I tried to keep myself busy, pacing the cabin, straightening things that didn’t need straightening, and skimming through old paperwork just to give my hands something to do. But my mind kept circling back to Riggins, to the possibility that this was only the tip of something much uglier.
When my phone finally rang, I snatched it up, expecting Randy. But it wasn’t him.
"Laramie?" I answered, brows furrowing.
“Hey, girl! How you doin’?” Her voice was bright and breezy, but she didn’t wait for my response before launching into why she called. “Listen, you’ve got a TikTok account for the ranch, right?”
"Yeah," I said slowly, thrown off by the sudden topic change. "Haven’t figured out what to do with it yet, though. Thought it might help drum up support for the horses we’ve got on the road."
Truthfully, I wasn’t big on social media. Posting, editing, keeping up with trends—it all felt like another chore on an already long list. But I knew the world was changing, and if Dad wanted this ranch to stay on the map, we had to adapt. Whether I liked it or not, that meant putting ourselves out there.
“Good, because you might wanna check it,” Laramie said, a knowing edge to her voice. “You’ve kinda gone viral.”
I sat up straighter. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she laughed. “You’re all over my For You page. And trust me, honey, you’re about to have a lot more eyes on that ranch than you planned for.”
I hadn’t posted much, so I was more than a little confused. Frowning, I opened the app on my phone, my fingers moving on autopilot. When my notifications loaded, my jaw nearly hit the floor.
The video I’d posted of me cutting cattle with Metallic Cat, set to Luke Bryan’s That’s My Kind of Night, had exploded. Over five million views. At least that many shares. Hundreds of duets. My stomach flipped as I scrolled through the comments—thousands of them—people freaking out, asking questions, calling me a badass, a cowboy Barbie, even a Living the Cowboy dream.
"Holy shit." My breath caught as I spotted a name with a blue checkmark. I clicked on it, eyes going wide. “Luke Bryan stitched this!”
“Told you,” Laramie practically sang on the other end of the line. “You’re TikTok famous.”
I sat there, still staring at the screen, my brain struggling to catch up. “I don’t know what to do with that information.”
“Enjoy it, sweetheart. And maybe start planning merch,” she teased.
I ignored her, clicking on the stitched video, trying to figure out what the hell I should comment. Something cool? Casual? Was there an etiquette for interacting with country music royalty?
I tapped the little heart on the video, exhaling sharply. “Well, guess I better figure out how to be a social media star overnight.”
“Let me know if you need any help, I need to get trending too,” she laughed.
“We can come up with something, girl,” I told her. “What should I post next?”
“I’m coming that way later tonight,” she said. “Check what’s trending and we can add a little Yellowstone flair to it.”
“Sounds like a plan.” As I ended the call, excitement and nerves hit me all at once. I’d gotten attention before, mainly from the rodeo scene, but this was different. People who wouldn’t normally pay attention were watching now, and that felt like something bigger.
I had almost forgotten that I’d asked Randy for help when my phone rang again.

As soon as I saw his name on the screen, I remembered, and my expression shifted. “Hello?”

“Hey, Alex… You said your dad was looking to hire Riggins?” he asked. “That’s gonna be a problem since he’s serving two consecutive life sentences, no chance of parole. So what’s the real reason you wanted me to look into him? No bullshit this time.”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “I don’t want to press this if it turns out to be nothing. But I think he’s responsible for my dad getting shot and my sister nearly getting blown up. We don’t have any connection to him, so maybe someone he knows planted the idea in his head.”
“That’s possible,” Randy said after a beat. “Look, I’ll send you his inmate records. Go through them, and if a name jogs your memory, let me know. But don’t go off half-cocked and try to handle this yourself.”
“I never do anything half-cocked,” I replied, a little grin creeping into my voice. “It’s either fully cocked or not at all.”
“Right,” Randy said, his voice tight with a little amusement. “I’ll send you the files. Just be careful, Alex.”
“I’ll let you know if something clicks,” I said, already thinking ahead to what might lie in those records.
“Sending it to your email now,” he said, “I suppose I should say congratulations on your TikTok success or whatever.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I never would have suspected you were a TikTok guy.”
He let out a short laugh, “I have teenage girls. It’s hard to avoid the stuff they’re into. They’ve been watching your video on repeat for days. I’m pretty sure they know all the lyrics to ‘That’s My Kind of Night’ by heart now.”
I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. “At least I know you raised them with good taste. But hey, if that’s the worst thing they’re learning from me, I think I’m doing okay.”
“You’re probably right,” he said, “But if you ever need tips on dealing with the social media craze, I’m your guy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said with a grin, “Though right now, I’m more focused on getting to the bottom of some things with Riggins. I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.”
“Good luck with that,” he replied, his tone a little more serious.
I laughed, the sound a little lighter than before. “Thanks, Randy. I appreciate it.”
We exchanged a few more words before hanging up, and I sat back in my chair, feeling both a little more connected to the online world and a whole lot more determined to find the answers I needed.
I searched through the information Randy had sent me, my mind spinning with each line I read. Nothing was clicking. I wasn’t sure I’d tell him if I found something—there was a way my family handled things, and it didn’t involve playing by the rules of the law.
Then, as I scrolled through a list of Riggins' former cellmates, one name stood out like a flashing red sign. It felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs.
Garret Randall. Jamie’s biological father.
Did this mean Beth was right? I didn’t want to believe it. I knew my brother. But in this twisted mess, maybe she was more right than I wanted to admit. One thing I knew for sure—Jamie would never target me or Kayce. That wasn’t his way. But somehow, we’d both become pawns in a game I wasn’t even sure I understood.
I needed to know for sure.
I ran a hand down my face, the weight of it pressing against me. To confront Jamie with this directly… but tonight wasn’t the night for that battle. It felt too raw, too volatile. I had to wait.

I closed the laptop and stood, trying to shake off the dread creeping over me. I needed a distraction, and there was one place I could go where I knew my mind would be pulled away from all this. The bunkhouse.

When I stepped inside, the familiar smell of smoke and cards hit me. Ryan and the guys were all gathered around the table, half focused on their hands.
I smiled softly, leaning over to peck his cheek. “I thought I’d find you here,” I said, amused. “You do remember you don’t sleep here anymore, right?”
Ryan glanced up, a grin tugging at his lips. “You miss me already?” He raised an eyebrow playfully.
“Not at all,” I teased, settling into the chair next to him. “I just figured I’d come remind you of what your bed looks like.”
“Hey girl, how you doing?” I said to Mia, who was sitting at the table.
“I’m alright, been running the rodeo, you know how it is,” she said. I nodded.
“Alright, back to the game,” Colby said, “Alright, let’s not overbet the pot here.”
“Forty,” Ryan tossed in his chips, calm and cool.
“Betting like you made the flush,” Lloyd said. I glanced at the table and watched Ryan’s hands over his cards.
“That’s because I did make the flush,” Ryan smiled wide.
“No, because if you had the flus,h you’d be acting like you didn’t make the flush,” Cobly stated, “you’re just trying to put me off of my flush.”
The tension at the table shifted, a familiar game of bluff and strategy in full swing.
“Are we really doing this?” Mia smirked, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. “I’ve seen better poker faces at a charity event.”
“That is absolutely ass backwards,” Ryan told him, “I’m begging you to match the pot. Daddy needs a new pair of shoes.”
“Let me see your face?” Jake asked as he scanned Ryan’s expression, “You are so full of shit again.” And he tossed his cards on the table
“If he’s bluffing, why are you folding?” I asked.
“Cause I ain’t got shit either,” he said, “and I don’t have a rich fiance to cover my losses.”
Ryan’s grin only widened, the tension in the room shifting to a different kind of amusement. “Smart move, Jake. At least you know when to walk away.”
Mia chuckled, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Rich fiancé, huh? That’s one way to look at it.”
I raised an eyebrow, teasing, “So what’s the plan, Jake? Gonna beg your lady for a bailout, or are you gonna tough it out like the rest of us?”
Jake shot me a look, a grin tugging at his lips. “Nah, I’m good. Just like to remind Ryan that not everyone’s got someone else to save ‘em from their bad decisions.”
Teeter leaned back in her chair with a sigh, stretching her arms overhead. “I’m done, too,” she said, a touch of finality in her voice as she tossed her cards onto the table.
Mia’s eyes glinted with a mischievous spark, and she tossed in a few more chips, her voice sharp but playful. “You know what? I’m gonna raise you forty ‘cause you’re lying, and that’s not nice.”
Ryan’s calm façade cracked for just a second, his fingers hesitating as he glanced down at his cards. He lifted the corners of his hand, his expression momentarily betraying a hint of surprise.
“Alright, let’s put the man to a decision,” Colby laughed, his voice laced with the kind of tension only poker could bring.
“I’ve already made my decision,” Ryan shot back with a grin that bordered on cocky. “I’m all in.”
Mia matched his move instantly. “Me too.” The air around the table thickened. It was down to just the two of them now, and all eyes were on the final showdown.
“Turn ‘em over,” Lloyd said, his voice low with anticipation.
Ryan flashed a sly smile before flipping over his cards with a flourish. “Bye,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “Ace, King, Seven, Jack—all diamonds.”
Mia stared at the cards, the tension between them palpable. She let out a slow breath, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Okay, so you weren’t lying,” she said with mock admiration. “But, gee, all I have is this Ace and this Seven.”
Ryan’s eyes darted between his cards and Mia’s, disbelief creeping into his expression. He glanced at the pile in the center, doing the math in his head, but the realization hit him too late.
“She went and dry fucked ‘em right there, didn’t she?” Teeter burst out laughing, her voice thick with amusement.
Ryan’s smirk didn’t waver. “Didn’t you three girls get fired?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow in playful challenge.
Laramie’s voice was full of mock indignation as she crossed her arms. “He didn’t say we couldn’t come back.”
Ryan leaned forward, his grin widening. “That’s exactly what being fired means. It means you’re not supposed to come back. Ever.”
Mia leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers on the table as she shot him a playful look. “So if I get fired from McDonald’s, I can’t ever go back to McDonald’s and get something to eat?”
The table fell silent for a moment, then I glanced over at Ryan, raising an eyebrow. “She has a point, cowboy.”
Ryan shook his head with a bemused smirk. “She’d have a point if we sold hamburgers, baby.”
Colby, ever the instigator, piped up with a chuckle. “Technically, we kinda do make hamburgers around here. Just a little more...customized.” He grinned, gesturing toward the pile of chips and cards that had become the center of their heated game.
The group erupted in laughter, the tension of the game easing into a mix of teasing and camaraderie. Ryan, however, didn’t let up. “Next time, Mia, I’m calling you out. You won’t catch me off guard again.”
Mia’s smile was sharp and knowing. “We’ll see about that.”
The bunkhouse door creaked open, its familiar groan drawing everyone’s attention.
“Hey!” Jake called out. I turned to see Jimmy sauntering through the doorway, looking as unbothered as ever.
“Well, well, look who it is,” I grinned, giving him a warm smile.
“It’s the Texican,” Lloyd added, leaning back in his chair, the edges of a smirk pulling at his lips.
“How y’all doing?” Jimmy asked, his eyes scanning the room as he took a casual step inside. Mia stiffened, her gaze dropping to the table. I could feel the unease radiating off her—her last encounter with Jimmy hadn’t exactly ended on friendly terms.
“We’re all doing great,” Colby replied, his tone light, though his eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “Everyone except for Ryan.”
“Fuck you,” Ryan shot back, his voice dripping with mock indignation.
Colby leaned back in his chair, arms folded, and flashed a grin at Ryan. “If you don’t want to keep mooching off your fiancé, maybe you should look into one of those payday loans.”
I couldn’t resist the jab. “You’ve got me second-guessing that joint checking account,” I smirked, giving Ryan a wink. “Gotta be more responsible with your money, cowboy.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t help the amused chuckle that escaped him. “Fuck off.”
Lloyd leaned toward Jimmy, a casual grin spreading across his face. “See? Same ol’ shit around here. Pull up a chair.”
Jimmy looked over his shoulder, smirking. “Actually, I’m gonna need two chairs.” He stepped aside, revealing a pretty dark-haired woman who walked in behind him, looking a bit hesitant but confident.
“Ohhh,” the bunkhouse muttered collectively, the realization setting in.
Jake raised an eyebrow, glancing between Mia, Jimmy, and his new girl. “That’s gonna go over like a fart in church,” he muttered under his breath.
Jimmy, clearly proud of his announcement, grinned. “Everyone, this is Emily,” he said, motioning to the woman beside him. “She’s a vet down at the Sixes and—uh…she’s my fiancée.”
“Oh shit,” Jake said under his breath, his eyes widening.
I caught a glimpse of Laramie out of the corner of my eye. She looked at Walker, mouthing a sharp “Fuck.”
Mia’s expression shifted from uncomfortable to pure fury in an instant. Without warning, she shot up from her seat and lunged across the table, slamming her fist into Jimmy’s jaw with a savage force.
Before anyone could react, Emily’s fist was flying, landing a solid punch square in Mia’s face.
“No, no, no! No fighting!” Ryan shouted, scrambling to his feet, panic in his voice.
“Let them fight,” Colby said casually, not even looking up from the game. “They don’t even work here.”
Ryan stood frozen, unsure of how to intervene. Meanwhile, the guys were all watching with keen interest, placing bets on who would win the fight.
Mia, undeterred by the punch, shoved Emily onto the table, her fists pounding down relentlessly. But before things could escalate further, Jimmy had enough. He grabbed Mia by the waist, lifting her off the table and dragging her out of the bunkhouse with surprising strength.
“Well, shit,” Ryan muttered, a wide grin spreading across his face. “That escalated quickly.”
I quickly moved to Emily’s side, helping her off the table. “You alright?”
“Always good to exercise after a long drive,” she replied with a quick, wry smile. “What are the chances there’s some whiskey in here?”
Lloyd and Walker both answered in unison, their voices thick with approval. “Chances are good.”
Lloyd handed Emily the bottle of whiskey with a knowing grin. “Nice hook,” he said, clearly impressed with her swing.
I gestured toward the chair that Mia had just vacated. “Have a seat,” I offered. “That one’s free now.”
Emily sat down with a small chuckle, clearly unfazed by the chaos. “Thanks. What’s the game?”
Ethan, ever the easygoing one, shrugged. “Whatever you want it to be.”
The tension in the air slowly began to shift, as the fight was quickly forgotten, replaced by a new round of teasing and laughter. The atmosphere in the bunkhouse lightened, and though things had been intense for a moment, everyone was ready to move on.
—---------------
The morning air felt warmer than usual, the sun just beginning to break through the horizon, casting a soft glow across the land. It wasn’t quite hot yet, but the promise of heat was in the air. I needed something to distract me before I faced Jamie, something to occupy my mind—anything to delay that conversation. The ranch was always there, though. Always ready for work, never needing excuses.
One of the cows was sick, pneumonia, they said. That was enough to keep me busy for now. The ranch always came first.
I saddled up and rode out with the cattle. The rhythmic sound of hooves hitting the dirt felt grounding, familiar, as I focused on the herd. But there was something off, something different, about this morning. And that something was Jimmy. He rode alongside us, his presence surprising and… comforting in a way I hadn’t expected. He sat a little taller in his saddle, like the weight of time and experience had settled more firmly on his shoulders. Becoming a man does that to a person, I thought.
“Hey, start looking for that son of a bitch!” Rip called from ahead, his voice steady but urgent.
“He might be laid up in them trees,” Jake suggested, scanning the horizon.
“I got him,” Jimmy responded, his voice filled with quiet confidence.
“You ain’t been in Texas that long,” Lloyd remarked with a chuckle, though his words lacked any true malice.
“Let him try, Lloyd,” I said, my voice firm but encouraging. “Go on, Jimmy.”
Without missing a beat, Jimmy pushed the sick cow away from the rest of the herd, expertly guiding it with a practiced hand. He swung his lasso high in the air, the rope spinning with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times. Rip followed closely behind, just in case, but there was something about the way Jimmy handled himself that made me feel sure.
The lasso flew through the air and landed with perfect precision around the cow’s neck. Rip’s lasso came next, catching the cow by the leg with another clean throw. The two men worked together like clockwork, both in sync, as if they’d been at this for years.
I dismounted quickly, my boots hitting the ground with a solid thud, moving swiftly to help. The cow struggled beneath their ropes, but with the teamwork of both men, they managed to hold it down. I crouched next to them, pulling the syringe from my pocket and giving the cow the antibiotics it desperately needed.
Jimmy’s voice broke through the moment, his tone full of curiosity. “He sure didn’t run like he had pneumonia.”
Jake looked over at him with a grin. “You toss one hell of a loop, Jimmy.”
“Yeah,” Lloyd chimed in, nodding approvingly. “You may make a team roper yet.”
Jimmy flashed a grin, his pride evident but not overdone. “Thanks. Glad to be back.”
I watched them all, the easy camaraderie settling around us like an old, well-worn jacket. It felt like a moment of peace in a world that often seemed too busy. But there was still that nagging feeling in the back of my mind—Jamie was waiting. And the ranch wasn’t the only thing I needed to face today.
—----------------
“You gonna practice ropin’ with us?” Teeter called over as we made our way to the corral, the familiar clink of boots and the earthy smell of the ranch filling the air.
“Fuck, I can’t think of a better thing to do,” I replied, my voice light but edged with relief. My confrontation with Jamie could wait—just a little longer. The ranch always had a way of pulling me back in, distracting me from everything else that needed dealing with.
I caught a glimpse of Ryan and Colby leaning against the fence, their hands wrapped around cans of beer. That was their chore for the afternoon—guarding the cooler. A job they'd somehow managed to turn into an art form.
Jake was on the other side, letting a steer out of the chute. Walker and Ethan were already on it, charging after the animal with practiced precision. They brought it down with ease, their teamwork seamless. The sound of hooves, the rattle of ropes, and the rush of the chase made it all feel natural.
“Hey, sweet tits, you ain’t ropin’?” Teeter shouted, her voice a mix of teasing and challenge as she looked over at Colby.
“We’re on cooler patrol,” Colby called back, flashing a grin. His laid-back attitude was easy to spot, even from a distance.
“Come on, don’t be intimidated,” Teeter teased, stepping forward with her lasso ready. “You gotta come up here and rope with mama.”
Ryan shot a smirk in Colby’s direction. “Yeah, get out there and rope with mama. This cooler’s gonna be safe with me.”
“That joke’s getting old,” Colby muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned against the fence, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
“Not even a little,” Ryan shot back, grinning like he’d just won a prize.
“Like super old,” Colby replied, rolling his eyes.
Ryan’s grin didn’t fade. “They age like fine wine.”
Colby shook his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “There are turtles that live two hundred and fifty years. Your jokes are older.”
“Are you two a couple?” Emily asked, her voice laced with genuine curiosity.
Laramie and I couldn’t help it—we burst out laughing at the question. It was a familiar joke, but the timing always got us.
I shot Emily a sly grin, resting my hand on my hip. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. The charming one with jokes is already taken.”
“C’mon,” Teeter called out to me, her voice full of fire. “Let’s show ‘em some girl power.”
“What’d she say?” Emily asked.
I grinned, feeling the rush of adrenaline already building. I readied my horse, watching Jake carefully as he prepped to release another steer. Teeter and I exchanged a quick, knowing glance, and then—just like that—the chute opened, and the steer burst out. We took off after it, our horses kicking up dust as we moved in perfect sync.
“Hey, fucking get ‘em, baby!” Ryan’s voice rang out from behind us. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was his way of pushing back against the whole "he and Colby are a couple" talk.
Teeter made the first move, catching the steer by the neck with a clean throw. I swung my lasso, snaring it around the heel with a quick snap. “Whoo!” I yelled, a rush of excitement surging through me as we brought the steer to the ground.
“Up next, Old Timers!” Ryan called from the sidelines.
“Old timers?” Jake shot back, raising an eyebrow. “I’m only 36.”
“36? I thought you were like fifty,” Ryan teased, laughter bubbling up in his voice.
Jake shot him a look. “You better watch yourself, boy.”
“If you mother fuckers drink that cooler dry, I’m gonna be roping you next,” Rip chimed in, his tone dry, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.
Ryan smirked, clearly unbothered. “Bring it on.”
Lloyd and Jake charged after the next steer, moving like it was second nature. They took it down with such precision, it was like watching a well-oiled machine in action.
“How’s that for old timer?” Jake called out, clearly proud of their effortless takedown.
“Does it hurt your arthritis when you swing that rope?” Colby teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Rip and Jimmy were up next, following the steer with ease. Rip caught the head with a sharp yank, while Jimmy wrapped his lasso around the heel, bringing it down just as smoothly.
“Look at Ol’ Jimmy rope!” Walker called out, his voice full of approval.
“I don’t understand the world anymore,” Ryan muttered under his breath as I rode up beside him.
“Dogs are purring. Cats are barking. I don’t understand anything,” Colby added, shaking his head as though everything had gone completely sideways.
“You two are fucking crazy, you know that?” Laramie shot back, eyes narrowing in disbelief.
“Barrel racer girl just called us crazy,” Ryan said, giving her an exaggerated look of offense.
“I just don’t know how to respond,” Colby replied, deadpan. Without missing a beat, both of them took a simultaneous swig of their beers.
I couldn’t help but grin at the pair. “I’m starting to worry about you two,” I teased, giving them a knowing look. “Do we need to make space for Colby in our bed?”
Ryan’s smirk deepened as he leaned in closer. “Only if you’re in the middle, baby,” he shot back, his voice low and playful.
“Now that sounds like a good time,” I said with a grin, sliding between the two of them and casually hopping up onto the fence.
Walker limped over, taking a seat on the cooler and propping his leg up. He placed a bag of ice on it, wincing slightly as he adjusted.
“How the hell did you hurt your knee roping a steer?” Colby asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I didn’t hurt it roping the steers,” Walker shot back with a smirk, “I hurt it fucking your mother the other night.”
Colby’s face went from confused to mock outrage in a second. “You know what, fuck you, first it’s Jimmy, now you?”
I couldn't resist. “Sounds like your mom gets around,” I teased, tossing a wink at Colby as I leaned back against the fence, thoroughly enjoying the chaos.
Colby shot me a look, clearly trying to figure out whether he was gonna laugh or punch me. I held my ground, waiting to see how far I could push it before the inevitable retaliations started flying.
The sound of the dinner bell saved me from whatever payback was coming my way.
“I’ve been ringing this fucking thing for an hour!” Gator hollered from the porch.
“Come join us, baby!” Teeter called back, grinning.
I glanced at my watch. It was getting late—I couldn’t put off my confrontation with Jamie any longer. The moment I’d been dreading was here. With a sigh, I turned and followed Rip toward the main house, my stomach twisting.
I considered asking him for advice, but before I could open my mouth, Beth swept in, dressed less like she was sitting down for dinner and more like she was about to dance on top of the table for tips.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, brushing past me. “But before dinner, I’ve got a little business to take care of. Everybody outside.”
“What business, honey?” Dad asked, brow furrowed. I looked between them, just as confused as he was.
“Let’s go,” Rip said simply, already moving toward the door.
I stepped outside, my confusion only growing when I spotted a priest standing under the tree in the front yard. A priest. We weren’t even Catholic.
Beth turned to us, her expression set. “There’s something I gotta do tomorrow,” she said. “And I want to be a married woman when I do it.”
I shook my head. “Beth, let’s plan something. Do it right.”
She barely spared me a glance. “I don’t care about the wedding,” she said. “You can throw the biggest one you want when you’re ready. I just care about the marriage.”
I sighed, nodding, because there was no talking her out of this.
Beth walked up to Rip. “We’re getting married, alright?”
Rip let out a short laugh. “Beth, you are so fucking crazy,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I thought you wanted to find a place that was just ours.” He exhaled, then softened. “But if it makes you happy, I’m happy. Just need to grab two things real quick.”
We watched as he jogged across the yard toward the bunkhouse, returning a moment later with Lloyd beside him.
The priest, looking increasingly confused, turned to me. “And you are?”
“A witness to this shit show,” I said, then added, “but also her sister.”
“And my maid of honor,” Beth declared.
The priest frowned, then pointed at Lloyd. “And the groom?”
Beth smirked. “Big guy in the dark hat.”
The priest turned to Lloyd. “Him?”
Lloyd chuckled. “I’m the best man.”
“Right,” the priest muttered, rubbing his temples like he was regretting agreeing to this. He turned to Lloyd. “Okay, you stand by him.” Then he looked at me. “You go down first.”
He motioned toward my father. “You’ll walk her down the aisle… to what would be an altar there.”
I walked across the yard with Beth and Dad, everything feeling chaotic and rushed—just like my sister.
Before taking my place at the front, I hugged her. Then I turned and walked ahead of them, standing opposite Rip and Lloyd, watching as my father led Beth toward us.
“Who presents the bride?” the priest asked as Beth and Dad came to a stop in front of him.
“Me,” Dad said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m her father.”
He kissed Beth’s cheek, lingering just a second longer than usual, like he was holding on to the moment. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped aside, trading places with Rip.
Rip slid his hand into Beth’s without hesitation, pulling her closer.
The priest glanced around at us before sighing. “Normally, I’d say a few words about the couple, but since I have no idea who you people are, we’ll just move on to the vows.”
A small laugh rippled through the group, but Beth and Rip barely seemed to hear it. They were already locked in, hands clasped, eyes never wavering from each other as they spoke their vows.
I leaned against Dad, watching, feeling a tightness rise in my throat. Damn it. I blinked fast, but the tears still welled up.
The priest cleared his throat. “Are there rings?”
“No,” Beth said quickly. “No rings.”
“Hold on,” Rip interjected, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small, delicate ring and held it up.
Beth’s breath caught.
“This was my mother’s,” Rip said. “We didn’t have much, Beth—we were poor. But it’s yours now. And so am I.”
Beth didn’t say a word. She just held out her hand, letting him slip it onto her finger.
The priest nodded, his expression softening. “Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
“Thank you for doing this, Father,” Dad said, shaking the priest’s hand.
The priest gave him a wry smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t press charges.”
Dad’s brows pulled together. “Charges?”
“Sorry, Daddy,” Beth cut in, completely unbothered. “I had to kidnap him.”
Dad let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his face like he was reevaluating every life choice that led to this moment.
The priest adjusted his robe. “If I could get a ride back to my church…”
“I can take you,” I offered. “I was just about to head out anyway.”
Beth shot me a knowing look, but for once, she didn’t say anything. We both knew where I was going. And we both knew I couldn’t put it off any longer.
I dropped the priest off at the church. Then drove. I could have called Jamie and asked him. But he would either ignore my call or lie to me again.
I’d make Jamie lie to my face.
I pulled my car to a stop in front of Jamie’s ranch. The one he never invited me to. It was his secret life. A man I didn’t know stepped out on the porch. Watching me. I pulled a pistol out of my glove box and tucked in the back of my belt.
“You’re him,” I stated as I climbed out of the cab of my truck. I locked my eyes with his. He looked weary, his life was hard. And he had clawed his way into a better one.
He didn’t answer right away, just studied me like he was trying to decide if I was a threat. Maybe I was.
His hand hovered near his belt, close enough to whatever weapon he had tucked there. “Who’s askin’?”
I let out a slow breath, keeping my shoulders loose. “I’m his sister.”
His posture stiffened just a little.
“I need to see Jamie,” I said, taking a step forward.
The man didn’t move, didn’t blink. “He ain’t home.”
Silence stretched between us.
I sighed and reached back, just enough to remind him I was armed too. “You gonna make me stand out here all night, or you gonna let me in?”
“Jamie should be back soon,” he said. “Why don’t you come around back and we can talk?”
I nodded, as I followed him to the back of the house. “You look just like her,” he said as he looked me over, “the woman who stole my son from me.”
“He was never yours,” I reminded him, “all you do is take. You took his mother from him. And now you’re sucking the life from him too.”
He sat on a log looking out on the land, “I got this for him. All of this, without the Duttons.”
“Oh, so you’re paying the mortgage on this place every month?” I eyed him, looking out at the horizon. “I doubt that.”
He shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
I arched a brow. “Am I?”
“This world ain’t black and white, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low, almost amused. “One day, you’ll understand that.”
I let out a dry chuckle. “I understand plenty.”
We stared at each other, the weight of unspoken words pressing between us. He thought he’d won something. He thought he had Jamie, had his loyalty.
But I wasn’t here to argue. I was here to remind Jamie of exactly who this man was.
He smiled, a slow, knowing grin like he had me cornered. “Jamie has everything he’s ever wanted since he stopped being a part of your family,” he said. “He’s got the second most powerful office in the state. A child.”
The last word hit me like a punch to the gut. My fingers twitched at my sides. “He has a kid?”
His smirk deepened. “Guess you don’t know Jamie as well as you thought.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m sixty-one years old. And these last few months? They made all sixty years of fucking hell I endured worth it.” He looked at me then, his gaze sharp, cutting. “You Duttons have deceived him into thinking he’s a bad man.”
I let out a slow breath, steadying the fire rising in my chest. “Jamie’s not a bad man,” I said, my voice firm. “I’ve always seen him for who he could be. Even when the people around him try to suck all that goodness out of him.” I stepped closer, locking eyes with him. “He’s a good man. And he deserves better than either of the fathers he was given.”
His smirk faltered. Just for a second. But I caught it.
He turned away, looking back at the horizon like it held some kind of answer. Like it could save him.
I blinked, my decision made.
In one swift motion, I pulled the gun from the back of my belt, leveled it at his head, and pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed through the open land.
He slumped forward, dead before he hit the ground.
Jamie’s face was pale, his lips slightly parted like he was struggling to breathe. His eyes flickered from me to the lifeless body on the ground, then back again.
“Alex,” his voice barely made it past his throat.
“She was gonna make you do it, wasn’t she?” I kept my eyes forward, unwilling to meet his gaze just yet.
His silence was all the confirmation I needed.
“What do you mean?” he finally asked, but I heard it—the crack in his voice, the fear, the shame.
“Beth.” I exhaled slowly. “That’s why she went to see you today. She gave you a choice—kill him, or she’d kill you. Or she’d send Rip to do it.”
Jamie’s breath hitched. “How did you know?” His voice wavered, barely above a whisper.
I finally turned to look at him, my expression calm but firm. “I know a lot of things, Jamie. I pay attention.” I took a step closer, forcing him to meet my eyes. “No one will tell me outright, so I have to dig. And when the pieces finally fell into place, I knew.”
His jaw clenched, emotions warring inside him.
“I knew he was behind it.” I gestured vaguely toward the body without looking. “And I couldn’t let her make you kill him. You’re not a killer, Jamie. I saw what happened to you last time.”
I swallowed, feeling the weight of what I had done settle in my bones.
“So,” I let out a slow breath, steadying myself, “I became a killer for you.”
I sat in the passenger seat of Jamie’s SUV. He didn’t tell me where we were taking the body. I already knew. I hadn’t seen it before with my own eyes. But I knew the train station was there. The place was deserted. A valley in the middle of nowhere, no sheriff, no witnesses. It was a place where everyone from states around came to bury their secrets.
We didn’t speak. What could you say after that? I sat there as Jamie climbed out and walked to the back, and opened the tailgate. He drug the body of his father to the edge of the cliff.
Headlights blinded me from the rearview.
“Stop, turn around,” I heard Beth’s voice. Jamie turned to face her as she snapped a photo with her phone.
Jamie froze, the weight of the body still in his grip, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The glow of Beth’s phone screen lit up her smirk—satisfied, victorious. The look of someone who had just won the war.
“You’re fucking mine now,” she said, tucking her phone into her coat pocket.
The air was thick with dust and the scent of disturbed earth, the valley stretching out like an open grave beneath us. No sheriff, no cameras, no one to hear a scream. Just us and the weight of what we had done.
I pushed open the SUV door and stepped out into the headlights, gravel crunching under my boots.
“It wasn’t him,” I said, voice steady, even. “It was me.”
Beth’s smirk faltered for half a second, her sharp eyes snapping to mine.
“What?” she scoffed.
I took a slow step forward, closing the space between us. “Jamie didn’t pull the trigger. I did.”
Beth studied me, trying to gauge whether I was lying. She glanced at Jamie, who stood stiff as a corpse himself, his eyes darting between us, silent, waiting.
“Bullshit,” she spat.
“Believe what you want,” I shrugged, “but if you think blackmailing him will make up for all the ways you think he’s hurt you, you’re more pathetic than I thought.”
Beth’s nostrils flared, her fingers tightening into fists at her sides. “He is pathetic,” she seethed. “He’s weak. And now, thanks to you, he’s even more of a liability.”
“Then let him go,” I challenged, tilting my head. “If he’s so weak, so useless, walk away. Leave him alone.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“No, I do,” I said, stepping even closer. “You don’t hate Jamie. You need him. Because without him, you have nothing left to fight. And if you stop fighting, Beth—" I let my voice soften just enough to twist the knife. "What’s left of you?"
Her expression flickered, just for a second, something almost vulnerable surfacing before she crushed it.
I held her gaze.
Then, slowly, she turned back to Jamie. “Get rid of it.” She motioned toward the body at his feet.
Jamie swallowed hard, looking at me as if searching for reassurance.
I gave him a nod.
Beth turned on her heel, climbing back into her car without another word.
Jamie let out a slow, shaky breath.
And together, we finished what I started.

Chapter Text

Months had gone by, I kept waiting for the guilt to creep in, for some part of me to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating and shaking over what I’d done. But it never came. Maybe the old me would’ve lost sleep over it. Maybe she would’ve prayed for forgiveness or tried to drown the weight of it in a bottle. But I wasn’t that girl anymore.
I’d seen too much. Done too much.
It didn’t feel like murder—it felt like survival. Like cutting away a tumor before it could spread.
The only thing that nagged at me, that gnawed at the edges of my peace, was Ryan.
I hadn’t told him.
Not because I was afraid of what he’d say. Ryan wasn’t naïve. He knew what kind of world we lived in. He knew the lines we sometimes had to cross to keep our family safe.
But I wasn’t ready to see it in his eyes—that shift, that moment where I stopped being just his girl and became something else. Something darker.
That sparkle in his eye when he looked at me—that soft, easy love—I didn’t want to lose that.
So I kept it to myself.
The energy in the room was electric—staffers, family, and longtime supporters clapping each other on the back, glasses raised in celebration. Dad’s opponent had just called, conceding the race, and now all that was left was the speech. The one that would solidify it, make it real.
John Dutton, Governor of Montana.
I stood back from the crowd, watching as Dad buttoned his jacket, taking a steadying breath before stepping in front of the cameras. He wasn’t a politician. He never wanted to be. But he did what had to be done, like always.
The room erupted in cheers, voices thick with pride and relief. I clapped too, because despite everything, I was proud. He was my father. And if anyone could hold the line against the vultures circling our land, it was him.
I just hoped it would be enough.
I knew better, though. Knew this fight was bigger than one election, one victory. The land developers, the politicians, the men with deep pockets and deeper grudges—they wouldn’t just disappear.
But for tonight, I let myself hope.
I watched Jamie walk out onto the stage to introduce our father as the new governor. Cheers from the crowd erupted as he spoke.
“Well, the future of Montana is here,” he started, “The future of Montana is a fifth-generation rancher whose family moved here six years before Montana became a state. It is fitting that a founding member of this state, a century later, now leads it. And defending you in Washington is another fifth-generation rancher who has served Montana in the House of Representatives and two terms as our governor. Allow me the opportunity to introduce you to your next Governor, John Dutton, and US Senator Lynelle Perry.”
The crowd erupted into louder cheers as Dad and Senator Perry stepped onto the stage together, both of them radiating the kind of quiet authority that made the room feel even bigger. Dad's stride was confident, his jaw set in that way that always meant business. Senator Perry, tall and regal, was right beside him, her hand raised in greeting as the crowd went wild.
Jamie was already stepping back into the wings, nodding to Dad as they passed each other. I caught the fleeting look they shared—something like understanding, but also distance. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but it wasn’t the kind of look that spoke to the bond most fathers and sons had.
The applause kept going, deafening in the packed room, but for a second, it all felt distant. My mind was still on the edge of what I knew we were facing. I had to hope, but I also had to brace for what came next. The land wars, the deals made behind closed doors, the pressure from all sides. We’d already fought so hard, but now, with Dad in office, the fight was only just beginning.
Dad stepped up to the podium, his face hardening as he looked out over the crowd. He didn’t need to speak right away, the silence in the room was enough to draw everyone’s attention.
I stood by my brother on the stage, a smile plastered on my face. A show of support even though it was hollow, but we would give it.
"Thank you," he began, his voice cutting through the noise, “The open bar was my daughters' idea. I see it worked. We have a lot of work to do. And a log of work to undo. The question we all have to answer is what will Montana look like in 100 years? Right now, we are seen as the rich man’s plaything. We are New York’s novelty and California’s toy. Not anymore. You’ve elected me to be a steward of this state, of its land and its people, and that’s what I’ll be. Protecting you now is how Montana still looks like Montana when none of us here tonight are here to see it. Thank you.”
My father gave a wave to his constituents and stepped aside for Senator Perry to give a speech.
“How do you follow that?” she said with a smile, “I don’t know. Um…ditto. The wars that Montana faces here at home, those will be my wars in Washington.”

Once the speeches ended and the crowd began to disperse, I watched Jamie make his way to the back, probably to shake hands with whoever needed it, to make the rounds. But for all his posturing, I knew the real work was coming. And none of us were prepared for it.
I turned to watch my father, his back straight, his face stoic as he was surrounded by a sea of congratulatory handshakes and back pats. I could see the burden already settling on his shoulders, the weight of what it meant to actually lead. To make decisions that would affect thousands of lives.
But it wasn’t just his burden anymore. It was all of ours.
—---------------

I rolled over in my bed, finding the warmth of Ryan lying beside me. I pressed my lips to his neck.
“What are you doing, baby?” Ryan’s voice was thick with sleep, the words rumbling low in his chest as I pressed my lips to the warmth of his neck. My fingers danced over his skin, trailing down his chest beneath the blanket, searching, teasing.
“Just trying to have my way with you,” I murmured, my breath hot against his flesh. My hand slipped inside his boxers, and he groaned softly, his body tensing for a moment before relaxing into my touch.
“You came in late last night,” he said, his breath hitching as I wrapped my fingers around him, stroking slowly, deliberately. His voice was still heavy with sleep, but there was a hint of something else there too—arousal, curiosity, maybe even a little amusement.
“That’s why I waited until the morning,” I told him, my lips brushing against his ear as I spoke. My fingers moved with purpose, my touch firm but gentle, coaxing him awake in the best possible way.
Ryan’s hand reached up to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as he turned his head to meet my lips with his. The kiss was slow, languid, but there was a heat building between us, a fire that had been smoldering all night and was now threatening to burst into flames.
I could feel him growing harder in my hand, his body responding to my touch in a way that made my own desire flare. I broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, dark and heavy with need.
“Good morning,” I whispered, a smile playing on my lips as I leaned in to kiss him again.
He laughed softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Good morning,” he said, his voice rough with desire.
The sun was barely up, the soft light filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over the room. The sheets were tangled around us, the air thick with the scent of sleep and us. It was a perfect moment, one of those rare, stolen bits of time where the world outside ceased to exist, and it was just the two of us, lost in each other.
I shifted, moving to straddle him, the blanket slipping down to pool around my waist. His hands rested on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me closer, grinding me against him. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I let out a quiet moan, my head falling back as I rocked against him.
“You’re trouble,” he muttered, his hands sliding up my sides, his thumbs brushing against the underside of my breasts.
“You love it,” I shot back, my voice breathless as I leaned down to kiss him again. His lips were warm, soft, and I could taste the sleep still clinging to them, mixing with the heat of his desire.
He chuckled again, the sound vibrating against my lips. “I do,” he admitted, his hands moving to cup my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples through the thin fabric of my shirt.
I arched into his touch, my breath catching in my throat as pleasure shot through me. My hands moved to his chest, sliding over his skin, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.
I could feel him beneath me, hard and hot, and I reached down to free him from the confines of his boxers. He groaned as my hand wrapped around him again, my fingers moving in a slow, steady rhythm that had him thrusting up into my grip.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow as I inched down to take him into my mouth.
The taste of him exploded on my tongue, salty and sweet, and I moaned around him, the vibration earning me another groan from deep in his chest. His hands tightened in my hair, holding me in place as he thrust up into my mouth, his hips moving in time with my rhythm.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the edge, his body tensing beneath me as he came, his release spilling into my mouth. I swallowed, licking my lips as I pulled back to look up at him, a satisfied smile on my face.
“Good morning,” he said again, his voice rough and breathless as he reached down to pull me up for another kiss.
"Baby, I love the way you wake me up." Ryan’s voice was a rough murmur against my lips, his breath hot and unsteady as his hands gripped the sides of my body, pulling me under him. The weight of him pressed me into the bed, his chest rising and falling with the same raw hunger that burned in his eyes.
I lifted my hips, desperate, as he shoved my panties down my legs in one swift move, the roughness of his hands leaving a trail of heat. His body pressed against mine, and in an instant, he was inside me—hard and deep, the feeling of him filling me, pushing me further into the bed beneath us.
My legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer, urging him on as he drove into me, relentless, the force of each thrust making my breath catch in my throat. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he moved with a brutal intensity that had me losing myself to him. Every inch of him inside me, every push, made the world around us blur and fade away.
I dug my nails into his shoulders, the pressure coiling tight in the pit of my stomach, a wave of need building that I couldn’t control. I was on the edge, trembling with the urge to break apart. My legs tightened around his hips, pulling him deeper as my walls pulsed around him, the sensation overwhelming. I bit my lip, desperate to quiet the moans that wanted to spill out, but it was getting harder to hold back.
“I want to hear you, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He shifted his hips, rolling them just enough to change the angle, and suddenly he was hitting that spot deep inside me. My body jerked, and the pressure inside me shattered.
“Ryan,” I gasped, the tremors coursing through me, my body trembling violently as waves of pleasure crashed over me.
His pace quickened, chasing his own release now, his body tightening with each thrust.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his movements erratic as he finally found his release, his body shuddering above mine.
“Good morning,” I murmured again, my voice breathless, still reeling from the aftermath. My legs were tangled with his, our bodies pressed close together as I tried to steady my breath, the weight of him beside me grounding me.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, as he rolled to his back, pulling me tightly to his side. His arm wrapped around me, his hand resting against the small of my back, holding me close. “You sure know how to make it a good morning.”
His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths, and I felt the lingering warmth of him against me, the quiet satisfaction of being wrapped up in the aftermath of everything we’d shared. There was a sense of calm now, a contrast to the storm that had come before, and I couldn’t help but smile softly, my head resting on his shoulder.
“My dad’s thing is in a couple hours,” I told him, my voice still a little breathless, the remnants of our time together lingering. “Beth wants me to put on a show. Wow the crowd while they celebrate his victory.”
Ryan’s chest rose and fell slowly as he processed the information, still catching his breath. He glanced over at me, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I suppose we should get the day started.”
I could feel the weight of the day pressing on me already. It wasn’t just another event—it was a spectacle, a performance. It was a party to celebrate my dad’s victory, and I was glad to be a part of it, to contribute to his success. And, truthfully, I was proud of the work I’d done with Maverick and Goose—two of the best horses I’d ever trained. But that wasn’t what Beth wanted.
Beth wanted a spectacle. She didn’t want just a display of skill; she wanted something flashy, something that would steal the spotlight and leave everyone talking. She wanted me to wow them, to be the star of the show, to perform for their entertainment.
I wasn’t sure I could stomach it. I didn’t mind the attention in certain moments, but this felt different. I didn’t want to be a puppet for their entertainment. I just wanted to show off the horses, to let them shine, but that wasn’t the kind of show Beth had in mind.
After a quick shower, I threw on a pair of yoga pants and a sports top, wanting to get in a last bit of training before the event. The ranch was already buzzing with activity, people setting up for the festivities later, but I needed to focus, to get in the zone for the horses.
Ryan and I walked out to the barn together, the cool morning air biting at my skin as we made our way through the growing crowd. His gaze swept over me, lingering with that signature smirk that made my pulse quicken.
“How am I supposed to go to work with you looking like that?” he teased, his eyes raking over me.
I shot him a playful look, a grin tugging at my lips. “I’m sure you’ll find a way,” I replied, keeping my voice light as I stepped into Maverick and Goose’s stall to saddle them up for practice.
The two of them were inseparable, their bond so strong that if I tried to put them in separate stalls, they’d bang the walls with such force that it would only be a matter of time before they found each other again. They were like that—always drawn to one another, never wanting to be apart.
I ran my hands over their coats, feeling the warmth of them, the trust between us. I was ready to show off what we’d been working on, but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this day wasn’t going to go quite how I wanted.
I clipped their bits together and grabbed their reins, leading Maverick and Goose out into the arena. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows across the dusty ground as the ranch came to life around us.
“Jesus Christ,” Rip’s voice rang out from atop his horse, his eyes scanning the chaos as people bustled about preparing for the event. “Can you believe this fucking shit show?”
I shot him a knowing glance as I kept walking. “It’s only for today. I know how much you hate people.”
Rip snorted, his tone dry as ever. “I only hate most people.” He shifted in his saddle, his gaze narrowing as he took in the crew. “And we got calves on the ground.” He turned his horse to face the rest of the hands, his voice sharp and commanding. “You see a coyote prowling our calves, I want you to shoot it. You see a wolf, you shoot it too. You see a bear, I want you to try and haze it off. But if he’s on a carcass, we call it in. Take a picture of it with your phone.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “Have fun being cowboys,” I called after them as they rode off, the tension already thick in the air.
Turning back to Maverick and Goose, I tugged them into the arena, ready to focus on the task at hand. The noise of the ranch faded into the background as I guided them into a slow trot, allowing them to warm up. They moved in perfect sync, their bodies flowing together like they’d been born to do this.
“That’s it, boys,” I murmured, encouraging them as we circled the arena. Then, with a quick shift, I made a run to grab one of their saddle horns and swung up onto Maverick’s back.
The pace picked up immediately, the horses responding to the shift in my weight as I balanced, standing tall on Maverick’s back. “Good boy,” I muttered under my breath as we rounded the corral again, the rhythm of their movements beneath me making me feel connected to their power, to the bond we shared.
With each step, they responded to me. My feet settled on each of their backs as I stood tall, one hand gripping the reins, the other raised high in the air, my balance flawless. I felt their steady pace, their awareness of my every shift, every movement. Together, we were unstoppable.
I stood tall as Maverick and Goose approached the first jump, their muscles coiling with anticipation. I clicked my tongue, and they leaped over it in perfect harmony, the fluidity of their movements a testament to the work we’d put in together.
“Alex!” My sister’s voice cut through the air, and I felt a slight shift in my balance, but I kept steady, the rhythm of the horses keeping me grounded. I slipped down into a seated position on Goose’s back before ushering them to a stop, turning to face her.
“What do you need, Beth?” I asked, my voice cool but laced with the edge of the frustration I couldn’t quite hide. Over the past few months, it had felt like she’d been tormenting me more than usual. It wasn’t just the normal older sister teasing—it was deeper, more personal. She was punishing me for helping Jamie, for standing up for him when no one else would.
She smirked, the same way she always did when she had something up her sleeve. “I got your costume ready for the party tonight,” she said, holding up a garment bag like it was some kind of prize.
I raised an eyebrow. “I already picked out what I was wearing.”
Beth’s grin widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Let’s just say I made a few modifications to it.”
I dismounted from the horses, my feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. As I walked over to her, she lowered the zipper on the bag, revealing the costume inside. It was sheer nude fabric, glitter and rhinestones scattered across it in strategic places—just enough to cover the parts that couldn’t be shown in public.
I stared at it for a moment, trying to process what I was seeing. “I can’t wear that to ride,” I told her, the disbelief in my voice sharp. “It’ll look like I’m riding around naked. I’m not doing a Lady Godiva show.”
Beth’s smirk never wavered, but I saw the challenge in her eyes. She was daring me to refuse, daring me to fight her on this. But there was no way I was going to let her pull this stunt.
“If I wear this,” I told her evenly, “it won’t just be embarrassing for me. It’ll be embarrassing for Dad, too.”
Beth’s smirk flickered, but only for a second before she tossed the costume to the ground like it was worthless. “Fine,” she sneered. “I’ll just have to tell Daddy what you did.”
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t waver. I just looked at her, meeting her challenge head-on.
“I don’t care anymore,” I said, my voice steady, unwavering. “Tell him.”
Beth’s expression shifted, her bravado faltering, but I pressed on. My voice softened, but the weight of my words hung heavy between us.
“Tell him I killed the man who tried to ruin this family. The man who tried to kill him. Who tried to kill you.” I took a slow step closer, my gaze locked onto hers. “See how disappointed he’ll be in me.”
The air between us crackled, thick with everything unspoken. I could see the war in her eyes, the way her chest rose and fell with restrained emotion. But she didn’t say a word.
Because she knew the truth just as well as I did.
I made it to the bunkhouse just in time to watch Dad on the television, standing tall as he was sworn in. It should’ve been a proud moment, something I got to witness firsthand. But Beth had made sure I wasn’t there. Another calculated move to push me aside.
I wanted to be there—to stand with him, to support him like a daughter should. But I also knew Beth. Knew the game she was playing. If I’d shown up anyway, it would’ve caused a scene. And that was the last thing Dad needed today.
So I stayed behind, watching from a distance as my father stepped into his new role. It should’ve felt like a victory. Instead, it just felt like another reminder that, in Beth’s eyes, I didn’t belong.
The guys were gathered behind me, playing cards, their laughter and occasional curses filling the bunkhouse.
“Hey, Alex,” Teeter called over, “how dressy is this deal?”
“It’s a party for the fucking Governor,” Ryan quipped, not even looking up from his hand. “I’d say it’s pretty fucking dressy. But since you don’t own any dresses, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“Screw you,” Teeter shot back. “I have dresses.”
Ryan finally looked up, eyebrows raised. “You have dresses?”
“I got dresses.”
Colby snorted. “You have dresses?”
Teeter rolled her eyes. “Is there a fucking echo in here? Tell ‘em, Alex.”
I smirked. “Every woman has at least three. Even girls like us who don’t wear them.”
Ryan leaned back in his chair, still skeptical. “Explain this to me, ‘cause I’ve only ever seen you in one.”
I held up a finger. “We’ve got the dress we wear to formal occasions.”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one I saw.”
I held up another. “Then there’s the one for church.”
“And the third?” Colby asked.
I grinned. “The fuck-me dress.”
Colby blinked. “The what now?”
“The fuck-me dress,” I repeated.
“And what exactly is a fuck-me dress?” he asked, half-laughing.
I shrugged. “It’s the one you wear with your fuck-me shoes.”
“Gee, glad you cleared that up,” he chuckled.
I leaned forward, lowering my voice just enough to make them hang on to every word. “It’s the one you wear when you don’t plan on wearing it very long.”
The table erupted into laughter, Colby shaking his head as Ryan smirked.
Teeter just grinned. “See? Told y’all.”
“Hey, Teeter,” Walker drawled, shuffling his cards. “Jake’s got dresses too if you need to borrow one.”
Jake nearly choked. “The hell, man? What’re you messing with me for?”
Lloyd let out a rough laugh. “I’d love to see the dress Jake could fit into.”
“It’d be the size of a damn bed sheet,” Teeter added, grinning. The table erupted in laughter.
I smirked. “Just remember, Jake—this ain’t a fuck-me dress kind of party.”
Jake threw up his hands. “Why the hell is everyone on my ass?”
Walker grinned. “Ah, hell, Jake, something frilly might suit you.”
“Maybe a little lace,” Ethan added, chuckling.
Jake shot him a glare. “What the hell are you laughing at?” He nudged Ethan hard enough to jostle his drink.
Before Ethan could answer, Rip’s voice sliced through the noise like a whip.
“I don’t need you all drunk. This party ain't for you. Ethan, you wanna tell me what’s so fucking funny?”
Ethan barely hesitated. “Jake’s picking out his dress for tonight.”
Rip’s eyes narrowed. “Do what?”
Teeter, straight-faced as ever, nodded. “He wants to wear a dress, sir.”
Rip exhaled sharply, looking at Jake like he was the dumbest son of a bitch alive. “You got a bet to settle, you settle it somewhere else. You put on a fucking dress, and I’ll hang you in it.”
Jake threw up his hands. “I ain’t wearing no damn dress!”
Rip’s glare swept over all of us. “Just behave, all of you. And don’t be an idiot. Get your show shirts on. Let’s go. Get your shit together.”
The laughter died down as chairs scraped back and boots hit the floor. Jake grumbled under his breath, but he wasn’t dumb enough to push his luck. Not with Rip.
“Now y’all got me in trouble,” Jake muttered.
I ignored him, heading to the bathroom to change. The outfit I picked was showy, but not in the way Beth wanted. Snug, stretchy jeans lined with fringe, paired with a matching top. The Yellowstone logo shimmered in glitter across the fabric—flashy but respectable.
Beth wanted a spectacle. I’d give them a show—just on my own terms.
I ran through my routine with Denim, hanging off the side, flipping, balancing, pushing my body to the limit. The crowd gasped as I backflipped off his back, landing firm in the dirt. I threw up a wave, chest heaving, as Lloyd took Denim’s reins and Ryan led Maverick and Goose to the center of the arena.
A sharp click of my tongue sent them circling. Perfect sync—just like we practiced.
I took off running, grabbing onto Maverick’s saddle and hauling myself up in one fluid motion. My body moved on instinct, sliding onto Goose’s back, then back again. My heart pounded with the rhythm of their hooves, adrenaline buzzing through my veins as I rose to stand.
A nod to Lloyd and Ryan, and they set up the jump. Higher than we’d practiced. My pulse kicked harder, but it was too late to back down.
Focus. Trust.
I clicked my tongue.
Maverick and Goose surged forward, muscles coiling, launching us into the air. For a split second, we were weightless. Then the sharp crack of hooves hitting the top rail. The obstacle tumbled, but I didn’t flinch.
Acknowledge the mistake, and the rest of the performance would unravel.
Instead, I slid down onto Goose’s back, exhaling slow. “Good boys,” I whispered, running a hand over their damp coats. With a tug of the reins, I brought them to a stop, lifting my chin to the crowd.
The show wasn’t perfect. But it was mine.
I led them to the barn, still reeling with adrenaline. Trying to shake off the hiccup. I pat them down, made sure they were cooled off before loading their troughs with hay.
“You were amazing out there,” Ryan’s voice cut through the noise in my head.
“I fucked up,” I muttered, “I should have made sure y’all knew. I’m sorry.”
“Baby, did you hear the crowd?” he asked as he slid his arms around my waist, “They are enamored by you.”
“I didn’t know you knew such big words, cowboy,” I smirked up at him.
Ryan chuckled, tightening his hold around me. “I got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
I let out a breath, still feeling the weight of the mistake. “I should’ve been clearer about the height.”
He tilted my chin up, his eyes warm and steady. “You cleared the damn thing. That’s what they’ll remember.”
The roar of the crowd still echoed in my ears, a reminder that, perfect or not, I’d put on a hell of a show.
Ryan smirked. “Now, how ‘bout we celebrate your victory?”
I arched a brow. “What’d you have in mind?”
His grin turned wicked. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
“I should probably make an appearance for my dad,” I said, glancing toward the crowd. “He is the governor, after all.”
Ryan laced his fingers with mine as we stepped out of the barn. The band played from the stage, the music blending with the hum of laughter and conversation. The ranch was packed, people gathered in celebration, drinks in hand.
We fell in line with the rest of the hands, all dressed in crisp, pressed show shirts.
“Much better than a dress,” I teased Jake with a smirk.
“Gosh damn,” he muttered, taking in the scene. “They ought to throw a party like this every year.”
Ryan chuckled. “Actually, Jake, they do. Every four years. When there’s a new governor.”
Jake scoffed. “Excuse me for not majoring in government studies.”
“Diesel Academy ain’t exactly a college,” Ryan drawled, he gave Jake a look.
Colby smirked, glancing at Jake. “The more you talk to him, the more he talks back. In case you haven’t caught on to the pattern yet.”
“They on your ass tonight,” Teeter chuckled, shaking her head.
I exhaled, straightening my shoulders. “I gotta go be a good daughter for once.” My gaze flicked toward the canopy where all the big shots were gathered, sipping whiskey and talking politics.
Ryan’s grip lingered on my fingers before I pulled away.
“Save me a dance, cowboy?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
He grinned, tipping his hat. “You’ve got all of ’em, baby,” he called after me.
I sucked in a breath, plastering on a smile as people crowded around, offering congratulations on my ride and praising how great my father was going to be for Montana. The compliments were kind, but I knew better. My dad wasn’t doing this for the state—he was doing it for the ranch. The power and influence would secure his legacy, keep the ranch safe, and line his pockets with more than just land.
But I kept my mouth shut. There was no point in sharing that tidbit with the crowd. Not now, not in front of the people who only saw what they wanted to see—the politician, the hero. I let them keep their illusions, nodding and smiling politely, letting the words wash over me.
I took my seat at the head table, trying to steady my nerves as Beth, Senator Perry, and Dad settled into their spots beside me. The noise of the event buzzed in the background, but for a moment, it all felt far away.
“You looked so graceful out there, Alex,” Lynell said with a warm smile, her eyes still gleaming from the performance. “Makes me miss riding.”
I flashed her a grin, leaning in slightly. “I could have the boys set up some barrels for you. The crowd would love it.”
Lynell laughed, shaking her head, her smile soft and genuine. “I’ll leave the riding to you, Alex. I didn’t bring a flashy outfit with me.”
I chuckled, glancing down at my own outfit. “I’m sure you could’ve pulled it off if you had.”
“Come on, Alex,” Beth said with that familiar, forced cheer, her hand already on my arm. “Let’s go wander.” I knew exactly what this was—my cue to step away. I’d been sitting at the grown-up table too long, and she didn’t want me talking to Dad or Jamie for too long without her watching over.
“Y’all aren’t gonna eat?” Dad asked, his voice tinged with that protective tone, not quite realizing what Beth was pulling.
“Not dressed like this,” she shot back, tugging me along after her with more force than necessary.
“Have a good night, Dad,” I said, trying to sound casual, but I couldn’t help the way the words felt tight in my throat.
I waited until we were out of earshot, then I muttered, “Let go of my fucking arm.”
Beth’s grip loosened, and she pulled her hand away like she’d been burned. “You need to stay away from them. I mean it.”
I stopped walking and turned to face her, my voice low but firm. “He’s my father, and Jamie’s my brother. And they’re going back to Helena in a few days. So you can have them all to yourself. To work on whatever little plot you’ve got brewing. I’m not your enemy. I never have been.”
Beth’s eyes flickered to Jamie, then back to me, her lips curling into a thin line. “When you chose to protect him,” she said, her voice sharp, “you decided which side of the fight you were on.”
“You’re fighting with yourself,” I said, my voice steady but laced with frustration. “Cause I’m not a part of it. I’m done. Just go and try to be happy. And let the rest of us find our happiness too.”
I turned away from her, not giving her a chance to respond. I wasn’t going to waste another moment on the twisted mess she kept trying to drag me into.
I leaned against the fence, watching the hands in the arena practice roping on each other. Ryan’s eyes met mine, and a smile tugged at his lips as he caught my gaze. Slowly, he started walking toward me, his boots kicking up the dust with each step.
“Nope,” I called out, crossing my arms. “I’m not going down in the dirt, cowboy.”
He didn’t skip a beat, his grin widening. “How about a dance then?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Not sure if I’m ready to dance yet either.”
Ryan’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his voice playful. “What if I insist?”
“How do you plan on doing that?” I shot back, challenging him.
Without missing a beat, he swung his lasso expertly, the rope whipping through the air before landing neatly around my waist, pulling me closer to him in one smooth motion.
“Real smooth, cowboy,” I smirked, as he dropped the rope to the ground.
He placed one hand firmly on my hip and took my other hand in his, guiding me effortlessly into a two-step. We moved in sync, our feet gliding across the corral, the soft beat of the music from the party just a background hum to the rhythm between us.
His touch was warm and familiar, and I couldn’t help but smile as we swayed in the dusty arena. "Guess you're making me dance after all," I said softly, our movements flowing effortlessly as we lost ourselves in the moment.
“I’ll take any opportunity I can get to have you in my arms,” he murmured in my ear.
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I played it off with a smirk. “Smooth talker,” I teased, though my voice betrayed me, a little softer than before.
Ryan’s grip on my waist tightened just slightly as he spun me in a slow circle, his movements effortless, like he was born knowing how to lead. “Just honest,” he said, his breath warm against my cheek.
The distant hum of laughter and music faded, the world shrinking down to the steady rhythm of our boots in the dirt. For the first time in a long time, I let myself relax into him, let myself forget about all the chaos waiting beyond this moment.
“Think you can handle another dance after this one?” he asked, dipping his head just enough so his words danced over my ear.
I exhaled a small laugh. “Guess that depends.”
“On what?”
“If you plan on using that rope again,” I teased.
His grin was slow, knowing. “Only if you run.”
“I’m not going anywhere cowboy,” I tilted my head as I stepped up on my toes, lips pressing against his in a lingering kiss.
Ryan didn’t hesitate. His arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against him as he deepened the kiss, slow and steady, like he had all the time in the world. The dust swirled around our boots, the sounds of the party melting into the background.
When we finally broke apart, a lazy grin tugged at his lips. “Damn,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. “If I’d known all it took was a lasso to get you in my arms like this, I’d have tried it sooner.”
I chuckled, my hands still gripping the front of his shirt. “Guess you’ll just have to keep finding reasons to rope me in.”
He tilted his head, considering. “I can think of a few.”
“Just as long as you remember,” I warned playfully, “I let you catch me.”
Ryan smirked, pressing another kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Whatever you say, darlin’.”
—---------------------
I woke early, the sky still painted in soft hues of dawn, and made my way to the barn. I knew my father well enough to guess where he'd be—seeking a quiet moment with his horse before heading back to Helena, back to the chaos of being Governor. And for once, I knew Beth wouldn’t be there to stop me from talking to him.
I paused at the barn door, leaning against the frame as I watched him run a weathered hand down his horse’s nose. His shoulders, always strong, seemed heavier now, weighed down by responsibility. I hesitated, letting him have that last moment of peace before I said what I came to say.
"Morning, sweetheart," Dad said without turning, his voice low and steady.
"Morning, Dad," I replied, stepping inside. My boots scuffed against the dirt floor as I closed the distance between us. “I’m gonna miss seeing you here when you go.”
He sighed, nodding slowly. “Yeah… When I took over this ranch from your grandfather thirty years ago, I haven’t spent more than a few nights away from it since.” His fingers absently traced the bridle, lost in thought.
I watched him, taking in the lines on his face, the way he carried the weight of both our family and this land. “That’s gonna be hard for you,” I said softly.
He exhaled a quiet laugh. “Hard don’t cover it.”
I nodded, understanding more than he probably realized. The ranch, the legacy, the sacrifices—it was in our blood. And now, it was changing.
I swallowed hard before speaking, my voice softer than I intended. “I want you to know—I’ll keep fighting for our family. All of our family. Here, while you’re fighting there.”
Dad turned then, really looking at me, his expression unreadable. His gaze was heavy, not with disappointment, but with the weight of a father who had seen too much and wished his children had seen less. “I know you will,” he said finally. His voice was rough, quieter than before. “I just wish I could’ve protected you and your brothers and your sister from the shit it takes to keep this place safe. That you didn’t have to do all the things you had to do.”
I nodded, pressing my lips together as I closed my eyes for a moment. Did he really know? Did he know how deep I was in it? How many lines I had crossed to protect this family, to keep the ranch standing? My chest felt tight as I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“It wasn’t Jamie,” I said finally, my voice steady as I met his gaze again.
His brow furrowed slightly. “What wasn’t Jamie?”
I took another breath, knowing once I said it, there was no taking it back. “That killed Randall.”
Dad didn’t move, didn’t so much as blink, but I knew him well enough to know the shift happening beneath the surface. So I kept going.
“I saw what killing that reporter did to him. What it cost him. And I knew he wouldn’t survive it—not this time. Even knowing what an evil sack of shit Randall was, Jamie couldn’t face that demon and still even be an echo of the brother I love.” I swallowed. “So I took that burden from him.”
The silence that followed was heavy, stretching between us like the weight of the confession I had just laid bare.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice carrying a kind of sorrow I hadn’t expected. “Taking a life, no matter how justified it may be, is never easy.”
I had braced myself for something else—for anger, disappointment, maybe even a lecture about what I had done. But none of that came. He didn’t yell, didn’t scold. He just looked at me with tired eyes, weighed down by the same burden I carried.
It wasn’t that he condoned it. It wasn’t that he was proud. He was just… sad. Sad that it had come to this. Sad that protecting our family meant blood on our hands. Sad that the place he built, the legacy he fought to keep, required sacrifices no one should have to make.
I had done what needed to be done. And he understood that better than anyone.
We didn’t say anything else—what else was there to say? Side by side, we walked out of the barn, letting the quiet settle between us. The weight of everything we’d done to protect this place, to protect our family, felt lighter as we stood there, looking out over the land. The first streaks of gold stretched across the sky, casting a warm glow over the eastern pasture. For all the blood, sweat, and sacrifice, moments like this made it feel worth it.
A voice, cracking slightly with lingering traces of adolescence, pulled us from our thoughts.
“Haven’t seen you in a while.”
I turned to see Carter standing a few steps away, his hands shoved into his pockets. He’d changed in the months Dad had been gone, lost the roundness in his face. He wasn’t a kid anymore—he was nearly as tall as my father, his frame leaner, his presence more sure of itself.
Dad stared at him for a long beat, then shook his head. “Jesus Christ, it really has been a while.”
Carter smirked. “You want me to saddle one?”
Dad let out a sigh, looking over the horses, his fingers twitching slightly—like he wanted to say yes. “I wish I had the time.”
“You’re the governor now,” Carter said, like he was still trying to wrap his head around it.
“Yep,” Dad replied.
“The big man.”
“So they say,” Dad chuckled.
Carter’s smirk softened. “I miss our rides.”
A flicker of something passed over Dad’s face—regret, maybe, or just the weight of knowing how much time had slipped through his fingers. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter. “I miss ‘em too. We’ll do ‘em again.” Then, with a glance at me, he added, “Until then, Alex can ride with you.”
I smiled. “Anytime.”
Dad’s gaze lingered on Carter, something unreadable in his expression before he said, “And quit eating the fertilizer.”
Carter blinked. “Huh?”
“Quit growing,” Dad clarified.
“Why?”
“Because it freaks me out.” He shook his head, looking at the kid who wasn’t a kid anymore. “You’re a walking reminder of how much time I don’t have. If you grow a beard, you’re fired.”
Carter grinned. “No beards. Got it.”
We all laughed, the moment lightening as the sun inched higher in the sky. But beneath it all, I could still feel the unspoken truth hanging in the air—things were changing, faster than any of us could stop it.
I walked with my father toward his waiting ride, the sleek black SUV looking out of place against the backdrop of the ranch. It was a stark contrast to his old pickup, the one coated in dust and memories. This car, with its tinted windows and government plates, was another reminder of how much had changed.
The driver stepped forward, opening the door for him before giving me a polite nod. “Ma’am.”
I let out a quiet chuckle, shaking my head. “I don’t think I’ve grown up enough to be a ‘ma’am’ just yet.”
Dad turned back, his gaze heavy with something deeper than amusement. “I wish I could say that’s true.” He hesitated, his fingers tapping idly against the roof of the SUV. Then, with a half-smirk, he added, “Don’t you go getting married and having babies before I get back.”
I smiled, a warmth settling in my chest. “I’ll wait for you, Dad.”
For a moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes—pride, sorrow, maybe both. Then he exhaled, looking to his driver with reluctant acceptance. “Take me to Helena.”
Before the driver could close the door, Jamie’s voice cut through the morning air.
“Dad.”
I turned to see him striding toward us, his face tense.
“We need to go to Billings,” he said.
Dad frowned. “Why? What’s in Billings?”
Jamie’s jaw tightened. “Kayce.” He hesitated just long enough for my stomach to knot. “Monica was in an accident. She and the baby are there.”
The weight of those words settled over us like a thick fog. Dad didn’t say anything right away, but the shift in him was immediate—his back straightened, his hand dropping from the SUV door. In an instant, being the Governor didn’t matter. He was just a father again, a grandfather.
“Billings,” Dad said, his voice firm. “Now.”
The driver nodded, already moving. Jamie climbed in beside him, and I took a step back, watching the SUV pull away, dust swirling in its wake.
I let out a slow breath, my heart heavy with worry.
Some things, no matter how much time passed, never stopped feeling personal.
I climbed into my truck, falling into line behind the black SUV as we sped toward Billings. The road stretched ahead, long and uncertain, my fingers gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I got there.
The way Jamie had said it—it wasn’t going to be an easy road.
Monica and Kayce had just found out they were expecting again, not too long ago. I did the math in my head as I drove. She was at least three weeks early. Too early.
By the time we pulled up to the hospital, my chest was tight. I followed my father inside, Jamie at my side, stepping into the cool, sterile air of the waiting room. And then I saw him.
Tate sat in a chair outside the hospital room, his small frame somehow looking bigger, older than I remembered. The boyishness in his face had thinned, replaced by something I didn’t want to name. His shirt was cut up the sleeve, and his arm was wrapped in a cast.
I hesitated for only a second before sinking into the chair beside him.
“Tate,” I said softly.
He didn’t look at me right away. Just stared down at his lap, his fingers tracing along the edge of the hospital blanket draped over his knees. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, distant.
“I had a brother,” he said. “For an hour, anyway.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I rested my hand on his shoulder, gripping gently, wanting to take even a fraction of the pain from him. He and I still had a bond—one that hadn’t faded, even with time.
“A brother?” I muttered, barely trusting my own voice.
“John.” He finally looked up, his gaze finding my father.
Dad’s face was unreadable, but I could see it in his eyes—that name had landed like a heavy stone in his chest.
“John?” he echoed, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it.
“They named him John,” Tate said.
For a moment, none of us moved. Then my father swallowed hard and stepped forward, moving into the hospital room without another word.
He didn’t need to say anything.
He just needed to be there.