Heart & Hope (Rosewood Ranch #2)

Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

REED

T he snowdrift has well and truly set in. The only thing keeping me warm right now is the memory of Ruby wrapped around my waist and me buried deep inside her as I tail a small herd of furry cattle across the ridge. Mack is at the head, and I keep an eye out for mountain lions and wolves.

We came close to losing a run-in with a pack of wolves last night. Despite the rifle strapped to my back, I have no desire to fend off a pack attack with gunfire and then have to gallop after a stampeding herd.

When we finally reach the halfway point for the muster, and the rough, timbered forest opens up, I can breathe easy. Trotting around the cattle, I find Mack checking his mare over. The two men that ride with us have started the camp, and I lend a hand, thrilled to hand Magnet over to my brother. As much as I love my horse, I am happy to be out of the saddle.

“Where’s your hot little blonde, Rawlins? Not ridin’ along like Addy?” Curly says. His dark hair pokes out from under his hat, his old, leathery hands stacking firewood to make our campfire.

“Back in the city” is all I give him.

He shakes his head. “Good luck trying to tie that one down. I hear she’s somethin’ of a spitfire.”

“How the hell did you hear that?”

“At Louisa’s party. Harry was talking about her.”

I can’t help the smile that stretches my cold, tight face. The dry air up here has my skin paper-thin, clinging to my bones. The chafing is so bad it keeps me from sleeping well most nights. I can’t wait to get home.

“Ruby tells things like they are. Like everyone should,” I finally respond.

“Yeah, that’s why you like her. I’ve seen the body on that one,” Stan pipes up as he walks over, carrying the rolled up tents.

I snatch one from his arms and throw him a dirty look. “Watch your mouth, old man, or I’ll feed you to the wolves.”

Curly laughs, and Mack slaps my shoulder. “That oughta keep them off our tail.”

I grunt, sinking onto a fallen log by the campfire. The trees around us sport branches weighed down by snow, and the cold air slides its icy tendrils into every tiny gap between my clothes and skin it can find. I shiver, rubbing my hands over the now roaring flames.

We eat in silence until Mack yawns.

“Well, I’m gonna call it a night. Reed, you right to take first watch? We can’t let those doggies spook the herd.”

Always the sergeant.

“Sure, not like I’ll be gettin’ sleep anyway.”

“Too many thoughts flying around your head about that blonde?” Stan has another crack at me.

“Fuck off, Stan,” I growl.

Something about him talking about Ruby riles me up. Maybe it’s the exhausting days, or the fact that I haven’t seen her for so long. Or maybe it’s the fact that I have finally found her and we have created something incredible, and her life—the one she wants with her whole heart and has worked a decade for—doesn’t include me.

And being out here in the middle of nowhere reaffirms how magnificently different our two worlds are. How far apart they really span.

I wander to the pile of tack and lift the blanket that’s draped over to protect the saddles from the elements and pluck the rifle from the stack. Settling back down by the fire, I let my gaze meander over the trees, searching in the dark spaces between the trunks for movement.

After nothing for an hour, my mind skips to Ruby. I stare up at the stars. The milky blanket hangs over the glistening, white-covered canopy, and I imagine she is looking up at the same sky as me.

“Any movement?” Mack’s words jolt me back to the present. The cold, Ruby-less present.

“Nothin’.”

He settles on the log beside me and leans back, lifting his blue eyes to the sky. “You know, the change I have seen in you since you and Ruby took on Harry is impressive, gunny.”

I huff a laugh. “Maybe.”

“You don’t think so? I know Ruby does.”

“Ruby is?—”

“I know. She’s really somethin’, that girl. Pity she’s headin’ back to the city when it’s all done and dusted. You’ll have your holiday ranch; she’ll have her big career. It’s almost perfect, little brother.”

His words are playful, a little taunting. But he’s right, and I hate him for it. I hang my head, clasping my hands as they dangle between my legs. “Yeah, almost.”

“Reed, tell the girl how you feel. You’ll be kickin’ yourself later if you don’t.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

I groan and rub my hands down my face. “I was a first-class idiot about what I said to Hudson when he and Addy were in this situation. Should have kept my fuckin’ mouth shut.”

“Possibly. But you were fighting for him and Addy—he saw that. You’re more Harry than you know what to do with, little brother.”

“And now, I am acutely aware of why he wouldn’t ask her to stay. How could I do that to Rubes, after all she has worked for? Everything she’s done for me.”

Mack slaps a hand on my back and rises to let me past the fire. “Go on, you head into the warm, I’ll take this one. Can’t sleep much these days, anyhow.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

We never ask Mack about his work. Ma can’t, and we don’t. Like some unspoken family code essential for survival.

“How ’bout I keep you company for a little longer?” I offer.

“Suit yourself, but one of us should sleep.”

He plonks down on the log again, wrapping his coat tighter around his body. For all the horrible things my brother has seen and lived through, he is the most grounded of us all. At least, that’s my take. He plucks a snow-covered stick from the ground and pokes at the fire. Embers rise and sparkle before burning out in the cold air.

The only sounds are those of the night birds and soft scurries of whatever is up and about between the trees at this hour.

Mack sighs, and I slide my focus from the flickering flames to his face. It’s unreadable, as usual. “What’s got your cogs turnin’, Mackie?”

“Nothin’.”

I raise a brow, and he smiles half-heartedly. “Tallied up the days I have left, is all.”

I swallow at the sudden thickness that has closed my throat over. Mack leaving for a tour is always a bad day. Every time he leaves, it feels like a gamble. One I don’t want anything to do with but can’t escape.

“How many?” I ask, not ready to hear the answer, each syllable way too heavy.

“Eleven days left.” He pokes at the fire, like it deserves his wrath, like it is responsible for his leavin’.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“When you gonna give that shit up?”

“I like my job, gunny. And I’m not seeing no city girl turnin’ up to save me.”

I still and meet his gaze. A shit-eatin’ grin stretches over his face, and I punch his shoulder. He howls a laugh, tossing his head back.

Fuck you, Mack.

Just fuck you.

“Make sure you come back, you hear?” I utter on threadbare breath.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, Reedsy.” He winks.

I roll my eyes at him, but the fire blurs in front of me and I swallow past the boulder that formed with his last words.

Huddo’s precious herd at my back is bellowing up a storm as we roll down the side of the mountain and start out along the stretch toward base camp. The two large white tents that Ma puts up every year sit behind Harry’s Chevy. Small figures wander around, stopping to watch as we push the herd closer. Ma must have wrangled one of her friends to help.

We’re the first to arrive. Hudson and Harry’s crews must be still coming down. Mack calls out behind me, his voice cracking after a week of hollering, the same as mine. Magnet ducks from side to side with the slightest leg pressure as I try my best to keep the cattle back. Last thing we need is a stampede barreling toward Ma. The stretch between us and the camp may as well be miles, at the slow pace we’re going at.

Shouts split the air a moment later. Chancy plows down the side of the hill beside Harry’s cattle. Who are, by the looks of it, flying blindly down the face of the mountain.

“Fuck! Mack?”

“Yeah, I see it!”

“Curly, hold the herd!” Mack and I gallop toward Harry and Chancy. The hat on my head flies from its tight hold and tumbles onto the short, snowy grass. The herd is frenzied, and I can hear the cuss words from the old man’s mouth from here. His men are struggling to catch up in the rough terrain, and Harry is a one-man show trying to slow a runaway train.

I push Magnet forward, and his ears flatten. The thousand-odd pounds of gelding under my seat moves in quick powerful strides. A heartbeat later, Mack flies up beside me. We intercept the runaways, and Harry throws us a look mixed between relief and pure fire. The herd getting away from him has gotta burn.

“Whoa!” I spin Magnet around and duck him fast and sure, side to side, as the lead beasts slow. Adrenaline blazing through my veins, I draw in a breath and hold on to the pommel. Magnet lowers his head and turns on a dime again and again between bursts forward. Mack and his mare do the same on the other side at the head of the rushing cattle.

Something like a million dips and sways later, the herd is back to a walk. Harry trots over, Chancy frothing at the bit, her flanks covered in sweat and slushy mud up to her hocks.

“I got it, son,” Harry says. The closest thing to a thank you I’m gonna get from the old man. I nod and move out of position, letting Harry take my spot. One of his crew relieves Mack, and we lope back to our herd, collecting my hat en route.

“Reckon it was wolves?” I ask.

“Most likely; guess Harry’ll say when we’re back.”

With all the excitement, we have closed in on base quick. Ma stands with her arms crossed in front of the main tent. She saw the whole thing. Sometimes I wonder if she ever worries about Harry. They both exude confidence and partnership every day. But with the work we do, surely, she must worry about him. He’s not gettin’ any younger.

When the cattle are herded and a few of the crew take sentry, I trot over to the main tent and swing outta the saddle. The second my feet hit the ground, I release the collective breath I have been holding since the moment we left the homestead.

God, it’s good to be almost done. Almost home.

Something strawberry drifts in the air.

My overactive, Ruby-obsessed imagination.

Or, more likely, Ma’s cookin’. And I miss Rubes like nothin’ else. It hits somewhere deep in my gut and sends an ache to my chest.

“Ma.” I walk to where she stands and wrap her in a hug.

“Hello, my boy. Long week?”

“You could say that.”

“It’s about to be worth it.” She winks, and confusion sets in on my face.

No idea what that’s about.

“Harry having some fun?” She laughs, but the happiness doesn’t meet her eyes, and her gaze falls away. Yeah, she worries about him. But when Harry pulls Chancy to a halt beside us, she simply looks up and smiles. “Hello, my love.”

He tips his hat at her and swings down from the saddle, drops the reins, pulls her close without a word, and buries his head in her hair. I murmur an “excuse me” and wander around, hoping to find Mack.

“Oh, Reed?” Ma calls, and I turn back.

“Yeah?”

Excitement fills her pretty features. “You’re in the tent first, bath’s waitin’.”

“Sure, thanks.” I pull off my hat as I push through the oversized tent flap to where Ma will have the bath ready. Steaming hot. God, I can almost feel the heat of the water on my skin. And I’m first into the tub. First time for everything. The wooden bath sits in the center of the tent, rugs laid all around it, with a table laden with food off to the right. This has always been my favorite part of the yearly roundup.

But when I cast my eyes to the other side of the bath, I freeze.

My heart rockets from my chest, and the hat slips from my fingers to the ground. Her beautiful smile lights up the room as she runs for me.

Ruby.

I steady my stance as she closes the distance fast and jumps up onto my hips. I open my mouth to say something. Anything. But nothing comes as I rock under the weight of her crashing into me, wrapping herself around my waist. Her mouth is on mine. Hands in my hair.

God, Rubes.

My throat closes over.

“I missed you,” she breathes, leaning back, her palms framing my jaw. “So. Damn. Much.”

I huff out a strangled laugh and rest my forehead on her collarbone. “Me too, baby.”

“But Reed?”

I lift my eyes to meet hers, and she shakes her head with a chuckle. “Heavens above, you stink.”

I chuckle and pull her in tighter. She giggles and sinks her face into my neck. “If I pass out from the smell, you’re going to have to take a bath by yourself, cowboy.”

“Like hell, beautiful.”

She wriggles, and I let her down. “Let’s get you in the tub, then?”

“You’re the captain.”

“You got it, Sailor.”

Now my heart all but stops. I suck in each ragged breath. And the familiar tingles that precede the inability to fill my lungs with air start creeping in.

Nope, not fucking happening. No way in hell’s garter am I ruinin’ this. I steady my breaths and mentally tally five things I can see.

Tent.

Tub.

Love of my fuckin’ life.

Food.

Rugs on the floor.

Three things I can feel.

Ruby’s fingers tugging at my Wranglers.

The stretch in my jeans, my cock swelling as she pulls the shirt from my shoulders.

Her skin, soft and silky under my rough hands.

Breathing easy again, I step into her and take her face in my hold. I could eat this woman up—the way she looks at me, the way she smells, sounds. The way she melts in my hold. Folds herself into me. Like we were fucking made for each other.

“Longest week of my life, baby.”

“Mine too, Reed.”

Something like sadness flashes across her face. I tilt my head, and she catches the gesture.

“Not now. We can talk about it later.” She makes quick work of my buckle and jeans. And before I can count a handful of breaths, she has me naked as the day I was born, pushing me toward the bath. But when I reach the edge of the old-school bath, I turn on her.

“I’m not gettin’ in this thing without you, Rubes.”

She laughs and tugs her shirt over her head, letting it fall to her feet.

“Fine, but I’m washing you first.” She screws up her face.

“Can’t wait, beautiful.”