Page 26 of Slow Burn

His expression has changed since our ride, his shoulders have hitched up a half an inch. It’s like all the tension he released on our ride over here is back and worse than before.

“Are you sure we can’t fix this ourselves?” I offer.

I haven’t looked through the books just yet, but based on the set of Beck’s jaw, I can already anticipate what I’m going to find. Overdue bills, a dwindling savings account, if there are any savings at all. Expenses put on credit cards. The usual skeletons that I have the joy of uncovering once I start digging around the closet.

Beck looks down the perimeter of the property at the trampled fence. There are several posts that have been snapped off at ground level, and others that are leaning at an unnatural angle. He shakes his head solemnly.

“One post I could repair myself, put up some wire in the meantime. But I don’t like to leave wire up for long, and I refuse to use barbed wire like some of the ranches in the area. I’ve had one too many animals get caught up in it and end up hurt.”

My heart clenches at the thoughtfulness with which Beck approaches every decision on the ranch, down to what type of fences are more humane for his animals.

“This is going to require digging those broken ones out, and then driving new ones into the ground. I don’t have the equipment or the time to do it.”

His eyes look tired, his voice weary. I know he wears a stoney facade, and he’s not always my favourite person to be around because of it, but right now the look on his face has me melting.

“What about Nash? Or Skye? I bet she’d be willing to pitch in with her rodeo winnings,” I suggest, but the mention of it makes the muscles in Beck’s jaw twitch.

“That’s a no go, Trouble,” he says.

The nickname makes me bristle. He coined it when we were teens, and it only ever served as a reminder of what he thought of me. I still remember when I decided I hated it. It was the night he picked me up from that party. What happened, Trouble? He’d asked, as if it was my fault that I got dumped in front of all of my friends. Dumped is being generous, because I’d discovered my boyfriend making out with another girl in the kitchen of my friend’s house.

Beck breaks me out of my thoughts as he keeps talking. “I’m not going to let the ranch be what takes away Skye’s dreams. She’s worked too hard. And this place has taken too much already.”

I nod, understanding not only Beck’s reasoning for shouldering the whole burden himself, but also the fact that it’s going to be what runs him into the ground. Knowing that arguing won’t get me anywhere, I decide that if he won’t take help from his family, he can take mine.

“I’ll have a look through the books and see if I can’t find some money somewhere to cover it,” I say.

He scrubs a hand down his face. “Good luck. I truly don’t think you’re prepared for the clusterfuck you’re about to encounter, Lyla. I know a lot of ranches struggle, and financial turmoil basically comes with the territory, but we’re really in a hole here.”

“Most ranches don’t look at their operations with a lens of sustainability,” I point out. “I think Wild Sage would have a fighting chance if we did a few things differently. Worked with the environment instead of fighting it at every turn.”

“I’m surprised you're so on board with helping us out. I would’ve thought you’d be thrilled at the thought of a ranch going out of business.”

“In an ideal world? Yeah I’d love it if people didn’t eat animals. I’m an idealist in a lot of ways. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand how the world works. I know ranches aren’t going anywhere. But they also can’t continue the way they’re going. Not if they want to survive for the long-term.”

“I can respect that,” Beck says, and something inside me swells. It’s not admiration, or even appreciation for my ideas, but it’s something. It’s a start.

“If there’s one thing you should know about me, Beck, it’s that I don’t do anything half assed. I’m passionate about my opinions, but I’m also passionate about my job. And just so you know, ranches are not the most unethical business I’ve done work for. Not by a long shot. I think I can handle this.”

Beck tilts his head. “Does that have anything to do with why you’re here? Are you on the run from the mob Lyla Morgan?”

I roll my eyes at the comment and turn away from him, walking toward the horses. I don’t exactly feel like rehashing why I lost my job in the city. And I certainly don’t want to discuss it with Beck. He’s already questioning my motives here, doubting my ability to bring Wild Sage back into the green. If he knew why I had to leave Apex Consulting, he could very easily spook and call this whole thing off. I’d be jobless once again, without a decent reference.

“That is a story for another day.”

“Looking forward to it,” he says behind me, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

We get on the horses and start our journey back toward the house, and Beck has promised me he’ll take me to see the bunkhouse, the cattle barn, and give me the full tour. He’s more talkative, and it feels like I’ve gained some ground in our relationship, working and personal.

I’m feeling a little bolder now, having seen a more vulnerable side to him, so I decide to push him, see how far I can go.

“I have some stipulations, by the way,” I say. “If we’re going to do this thing the right way.”

He looks over at me, Willow and Bandit falling into step with each other. “Of course you do.”

“You need to meet me halfway. None of this high and mighty, Cactus Jackass bullshit.”

Beck lets out a laugh that I didn’t know he was capable of. It rumbles through my core and straight down between my thighs.