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I’ve spent my life under the weight of family obligations, sacrificing everything. When my parents announce I’ll be married off to my father’s business partner, I know that I have to escape or live miserably ever after.
Fleeing like a thief in the night, I jump on a bus with no planned destination in mind, all identifying information left behind, and no plans to return to Chicago. But all buses have an end of the line, and apparently, mine is in the middle of nowhere.
Surrounded by open fields with no civilization in sight and armed with only my backpack, one misstep brings my journey to a halt. I stare up at the stars, convinced this is how it ends—my only consolation knowing I went out on my own terms.
When I wake, I’m in an unfamiliar room, tended by the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He promises I’m safe with him and his boys. Westley. Kain. Gage. Brooks. Beau. I may be safe from my family here, but my heart won’t be when it’s time for me to move on.
My eyes open to the darkness of my bedroom before my alarm goes off. I haven’t needed it for decades, the routine of ranch life so ingrained it’s impossible for me to sleep past sunrise regardless of what the day holds.
I know I should get up, but I toss the blanket off my naked body instead, folding my arms behind my head and staring blankly at the dark ceiling. I learned long ago that my tossing and turning in the night doesn’t mix well with pajamas, and there’s no one around to see my bare ass, so now I enjoy the silky sheets against my bare skin.
My windows are open, and the cool morning breeze brushes my skin. I shudder, my morning wood protesting the sudden temperature change. I lie there for several minutes, running over my day in my head, when the shrill alarm breaks the thick silence in the room.
Growling with frustration when the ringing is quickly followed by an incessant vibration dancing my phone across the bedside table, I swing my legs over the mattress and sit up, grabbing it and silencing it quickly before slamming it back down onto the table. I grit my teeth when I not only feel, but hear, the popping of my joints as I stretch slowly.
Working a ranch for the majority of my life—not to mention my years in rodeo—has aged me prematurely. Doc Stone told me I’m in perfect health—for a sixty year old. He laughed when he said it, finding humor in the situation until he saw me glowering at him.
Standing with a groan, I shuffle into my bathroom, flicking the switch and squinting against the bright light. Bracing both hands against the vanity, I lean forward, glancing in the mirror and scowl. If I ignore the rough stubble on my face and the ridiculous way my hair shoots in all directions from my nearly-sleepless night, I can still see the real me.
At thirty-nine, I’m no longer the young, fearless farm hand I was, but I’m a far cry from the decrepit old man Doc Stone suggested. I rake a brush through my hair, trying to remember the last time I got it cut—the length suggests it’s been a while.
Grabbing my toothbrush, I grimace at the smile I try in the mirror. I haven’t had a lot of practice smiling lately, so I brush my teeth quickly before walking out of the bathroom, turning the light off as I go.
Moving to my dresser, I rifle through the clothes, finding a worn, black t-shirt. I pull it over my head as I turn toward the closetto grab the jeans I know will be hanging just inside. Tossing them onto the bed, I grab boxer briefs and step into them before grabbing the wedding ring from the chipped bowl on the top of the dresser. Sliding it on my finger, I drop to the edge of the bed to pull on my jeans.
Standing to pull them over my hips, I button them as I stride out of the room, grabbing a pair of socks out of the dresser on my way by.
A deliciously sweet aroma wafts through the air as I make my way to the kitchen and see that Simona has already come and gone, starting the coffee pot and leaving fresh muffins on the kitchen island.Bless that woman. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
Grabbing a still-warm muffin and a coffee mug, I eat over the sink, thinking about the day ahead. I turn my head when I hear a soft whine, watching as Twitch stretches, letting out a large yawn as his tail slowly wags, his butt in the air. He slowly emerges from his bed in the corner of the living room, padding into the kitchen with a quiet clicking of nails, eager to investigate my breakfast.
I give him the last bite, watching him easily snatch it from the air before throwing away the liner, guilted by his beautifully soulful brown eyes. I’m not sure how he’s managed to swindle me out of even a bite of Simona’s heavenly muffins, but he looks pretty smug for a neutered son of a bitch.
Swiping the empty thermos waiting for me on the island, knowing Simona has already added sugar, I watch as thefragrant coffee—black as the cattle we run on the ranch—fills it. Leaving just a little room, I trudge to the fridge, adding a heavy splash of cream that the doctor can lecture me about later.
Twitch trails me to the mud room, waiting for me to open the door. He waits for my signal, running out to relieve himself and harass the barn cats as soon as I give it. I sit on the bench and pull on my boots, trying to stifle a groan as my body adjusts to the movement.
I’m not as young as I once was, and working a ranch will make a man old before his time, but I’m not complaining. I’m a blessed man. I’ve put my heart and soul into this ranch, and I’m nowhere near ready to meet my maker. My sons will have a legacy after I’m gone, and I hope it’ll bring them the satisfaction it brings me.
Grabbing my jacket and walking out the door, I shut it firmly behind me, slipping silently into the still pre-dawn. The rest of the ranch will awaken soon enough, but Twitch and I are on a mission this morning. One of the hands found some large tracks in one of the more remote areas of the ranch, and I’m on my way to investigate. While the ranch certainly isn’t operating in the red, every cow must be accounted for to keep it that way.
Whistling for Twitch, I chuckle when I see him already bolting toward me, a pissed off rooster hot on his heels. In my experience, you don’t fuck with the roosters without regretting it, and that goes for dogs, too. As Twitch dashes past me toward the stable, I make a wild gesture at the rooster, and he scurries back toward his girls.
Soft whinnies greet me from the stalls as I walk into the stable. While the cows may be the lifeblood of the ranch, the horses are the heart and soul. My daddy was a mean son of a bitch who took off when I was young, but he taught me how to rope and ride before I could keep a bike upright. He was a rodeo legend in his youth, and he resented his age and a knocked-up girlfriend for ending his career.
He disappeared before my sixth birthday, and I never heard from him again, but the one thing he did right before he left was bring us to this quiet part of Montana to work as a ranch hand. My mama hired on as the housekeeper for a local inn and worked part-time on the same ranch where daddy deserted us, so at least our room and board was taken care of after he left.
When I was sixteen, I had some success in the local rodeo circuit, much to my mama’s displeasure. She was certain I’d end up just like my daddy and tried everything she could think of to keep me from competing. Unfortunately, the only thing that accomplished that was Miss Tanya Wallace.
God, Tanya was gorgeous. Tall and willowy but strong. Long, long, legs that went on for miles and made a man want to spend hours exploring them. Straight blonde hair that was always thrown over her shoulder and covering one or both of her pert little breasts, which were the perfect handful.
Tanya raced barrels, riding a sweet palomino mare that almost perfectly matched her own blonde hair. After the first few stops on the circuit, she was riding me at night. We had fun together, stealing a beer from the bar tent and sneaking off for a quickie behind whatever nearly abandoned shelter we could find. Thatcontinued until the circuit came to an end, and we went our separate ways.
Six months later, while I was finishing up my junior year of high school and working on the ranch to save money, Tanya showed up on my doorstep with red-rimmed eyes and a large, round belly. She’d kept the pregnancy a secret for as long as she could, but her parents disowned her when she couldn’t hide it any longer. They gave her a hundred bucks and booted her out the door.
My mama was furious, not because she was about to have a grandbaby, but because she wanted more for me than having a child at a young age and working too hard for too little as she and my daddy had done. But, because she’s an amazing woman, she welcomed Tanya into the family and helped us as much as she could.
Kain was born a few weeks later, and Tanya and I got married on her eighteenth birthday. It wasn’t easy for us—kids raising a kid—to navigate the demands of getting an education and working to keep a roof over our heads and food in the pantry. But Mama was adamant that we would both graduate high school, and we did. Barely.
