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Examining the photo, I murmur, “How long is what?”
“How long you sticking around for?”
I give him a small smile. “August. By then this place should be hopping.”
I have confidence this will work. I have to. I love this ranch, and I see how much Charlie loves it. After a month here, I have a good handle on the inner workings of Runaway Ranch and its people.
Davis, who is always in that red brick building training his dogs, barking his commands, keeping them to heel, but also giving them a shelter when they’d have none.
Ford, knocking baseballs into the pasture with any kid who dares to take him on, can fix anything on the ranch, whether it’s a tractor or a truck.
And Wyatt’s never without a cowboy to train, running his workshops in the evenings. His sharp shouts of instruction carrying across the pasture.
It all feels like mine. For the summer, at least.
As Colton adjusts his position, a shiny glint catches my attention. His silver and gold belt buckle shines in the sun.
“I like your buckle,” I say. “It’s bright.”
Colton laughs and pulls a can of Skoal from his back pocket. “Graduation present.”
“Thanks for the pictures,” I tell him. “You’re free.”
“See ya, Miss Ruby,” Colton calls over his shoulder as he lopes off.
I wave over the next cowboy, waiting for his glamour shots. Sam Hopkins, the cattle foreman, stomps my way. Disdain fogs his leathery face as he grudgingly settles next to the barn. I smother a smile. By now I’m used to people hating on social media. Don’t get me wrong, it has its negatives, but if it can bring people together and help small businesses, well, that’s the kind of goal I love.
“You need me to pose, sweet thing?” he drawls. His gaze skates over my legs, stopping at my breasts.
“Just a smile, thanks.”
Angling my camera, I back up to get a clear shot.
Too far.
The backs of my legs hit the round galvanized steel water tank the horses use for their water. Tottering, I half-turn, bracing a hand on the tank’s sun-warmed side to steady myself.
That’s when my gaze lands on something white.
Something in the water.
Logs.
Not logs.
My eyes widen. My heartbeat races in my chest.
Bones.
Tearing my gaze from the window of the Bullshit Box, I drop my ass in the chair and slam the desk drawer. Bills need paying and schedules need to be assigned, but all I can do is sit and glower.
I rub the back of my neck, annoyed that I’m annoyed. Minutes earlier, I saw Ruby with Colton, snapping photos for our social media account. The vibrant sound of her laughter ringing out across the field was like a dagger in the chest.
The awareness that she’s laughing for somebody else, that she’s sixty feet away and I’m not touching her, has me feral. Colton’s hanging on her every word. And who can blame the kid? She’s too beautiful and the entire ranch knows it.
Hell, she’s got the entire ranch wrapped around her finger. With her sweet nature and bright smile, everyone wants to be her best friend. They practically trip over their damn boots to talk to her.
What is it about this girl? She has me wanting to smile at her and punch someone for smiling at her at the same time.
