Page 24 of Branded Betrayal

It was because my mind was on Blaze lurking in his truck. He probably thinks he was so slick, parking down the street, hiding behind some bushes. But he doesn’t realize I’ve got Blazar and could find him like a needle in a haystack.

Something I really hate admitting.

I made sure not to acknowledge him at all. Because why would I ever give him the satisfaction of letting him know that? He’s arrogant enough as it is. The last thing he needs to know is that I am completely and painfully aware of his presence.

A shiver runs through me, a smile lifting my lips. At least the nosy bastard definitely overheard the conversation between me and the handsome town vet. His window was down, and I know he saw us. I’ll bet it got his dick in a twist.

I swing my legs around the side of the bed and stretch my arms overhead. Coffee would be so amazing right now. It’d go really great with the chocolate cake I still have yet to bake.

Maybe after I do some work around here, I’ll take a ride back into town and—

A loud crash makes my heart leap into my throat. Metal on concrete.

“What the hell was that?” I leap off the bed, grab a pair of jeans and a shirt, and dress quickly before barreling down the stairs. I slide my feet into my boots, rush out the front door, and head for the barn.

Another crash has me hitting the rafters, every foreign sound a new potential crisis.

A chill prickles my skin as I slow down and creep closer to the feed room. I suck down a breath and pull the handle. The door slowly creaks open, and I take a cautious step into the darkened room.

Okay, relax, Savvie. Just freaking calm do—

A squeal pierces the air, and I scream, whirling around before crashing into a tall can. It tips over, sending feed skittering across the floor, and I fall right into the middle of it.

“Shit,” I cry out, scampering to my feet, my eyes darting left and right. Another feed can is on its side. My heart beats out of my chest, and I press a hand against my forehead.

Relief washes over me just as a dark creature jumps up from behind the other feed can and scurries over my feet. I stumble backward as a raccoon darts out the door.

“Jesus, you’d think I never set foot on a ranch before,” I mutter, struggling to stand up. I shovel as much feed as I can back into the cans and pull them up off the floor. “Freaking raccoon.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and frown at the list of ranch tasks I have to get done today before Mikey shows up with Randy, one of the other hands who’s been helping out. I can do this. I can handle this ranch work on my own. At least with YouTube’s help.

I never really got involved with ranch work growing up. Dad hired ranch hands to handle the operations. And now I need to figure out how to keep paying the ones we have. I’ve gone through the financials, and they’re dismal at best. But this is what I do. I make companies profitable. I can do the same with Red Rock. I just need money and time.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of either.

My fingers graze the spout of the water pump, my mind tripping back to Blaze saving me from the rogue spray the other day.

I never imagined that I’d ever see him again. But here we both are, back in Whiskey Creek. And not only is he a total insufferable asshole, but he’s an insufferable asshole who still has a piece of my heart.

And dammit, I want it back.

I busy myself, making sure the water troughs are filled and the animals are fed.

It’s grueling work, and by the time I’m finished, I’m ready to crawl back into bed. Holding my shirt away from me, I wrinkle my nose. The new scent I’m sporting—eau de ranch hand—clings to my clothes, my hair, and my skin.

I head back toward the house, my leg muscles tense and aching. Pilates has nothing on ranching, that’s for sure.

My phone rings, and my boss’s name flashes across the screen.

“Hey, Tom,” I say. “How’s everything going?”

“You tell me,” he says, his voice laced with concern. “I just wanted to check in on you since it’s been a couple of days since you left.”

I sink onto the front steps. “My aunt passed away, heart attack. That was the emergency.”

“Savannah, I’m so sorry to hear that. And I don’t want you to worry about anything here at the office. Take as much time as you need.”

“Well,” I start. “Funny you use those words because it looks like I will need some time.” I tap the toe of my boot against a rock. “My aunt owned a ranch here in Whiskey Creek, and she willed it to me.”