Her Protective Cowboy (Fit Mountain Cowboys #1)

1. Wyatt

Chapter One

WYATT

“Where the hell is Brody?” Jace grumbles. “These buckle bunnies are gonna lose their minds if we don’t open the store soon.”

I drop a box of cowboy hats onto the counter with a thunk. “Tell ’em to keep their panties on. Sign says we open at nine. It’s not even 8:45 yet.”

My brother snorts. “Have you seen the mob out there? Those women are rabid. They’re about ten seconds away from flipping your truck.”

As if on cue, a commotion erupts outside.

I glance out the gift shop window just in time to see two women wrestling over a cardboard cutout of Brody. They’ve knocked over a metal trash can in their tussle, sending it rolling across the parking lot.

Fuck. I scrub a hand across my jaw. This is about to be a long day.

It's a warm Friday morning at Clayton Ranch. On a normal morning, Jace and I would be meeting with our ranch hands right now, outlining the day's tasks for our sprawling operation. Our family’s Wyoming ranch is the biggest in the county, spanning over ten thousand acres. There’s always work to be done, and as the oldest, I usually take the lead.

But today isn’t a normal day.

Last night, our brother Brody won the national bull riding competition in Vegas. It’s a big deal for him and the ranch. To celebrate, we’re selling championship merch at the ranch gift shop. Plus, Brody will be here to sign autographs and take photos with fans.

I knew the event would be popular. Brody has a huge following on social media. But even I didn’t expect this circus.

The parking lot is packed, and there’s a line of women snaking all the way down to the main road.

Suddenly, Jace appears over my shoulder. He’s got his phone out and is angling it toward the window.

I quirk a brow at him. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Getting a picture of the crowd for Lindsay. She’s going to flip when she sees this line.”

Lindsay is Jace’s best friend. She’s also our ranch’s marketing coordinator. And this entire “pop-up shop,” as she calls it, was her idea. She was supposed to be here this morning too, along with our gift shop manager and a few other employees. But they went out to celebrate Brody’s win last night and apparently got food poisoning.

“Well, tell your girlfriend that we’re running a ranch, not a petting zoo,” I grumble. “We’re not here for these women’s entertainment.”

Jace rolls his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend. And would you lighten up? Geez. This is good for business.”

I’m about to retort when the back door swings open. Brody strolls in, decked out in faded Wranglers, a white tee that’s practically painted on, and that shiny new championship buckle. He’s grinning like the cat that ate the canary, even though he’s late as hell.

“’Bout time you showed up, asshole,” Jace says. “The buckle bunnies are about to stage a revolt out there.”

“Sorry, lost track of time,” Brody calls over his shoulder as he walks to the coffee maker. “Had an early meeting with my agent.”

Jace snorts. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Brody ignores the jab and frowns as he looks around the shop. “Where’s Luke?”

“He had a daddy-daughter breakfast at Maisey’s school.”

“Damn. I promised my fans they’d get to see all four Clayton brothers today.”

I groan. “Seriously?”

Brody shakes his head. “Only you would complain about a crowd of beautiful women knocking down your door, Wyatt. For all you know, the woman of your dreams could be standing outside in that crowd.”

“No thanks. You can keep your groupies.”

As soon as I say the words, the crowd outside starts chanting “Bro-dy! Bro-dy! Bro-dy!”

Brody’s grin widens, and he walks to the entrance of the gift shop. “What do you say, boys? Shall we open the floodgates?”

Jace glances over at me. “Your call, Wyatt.”

I heave a sigh, already regretting this entire day. “Fine. But you better keep that crowd under control. I’m not breaking up any catfights over your used chaps or whatever other weird shit you’re selling.”

“Don’t worry, big brother. I’ve got this.” And with that, he flings open the doors and the women flood inside.

As I watch Brody work the room, I can’t help but think about how different we are. He's always been the outgoing one. The charmer. The center of attention. I've never been that type.

I'm more at home on horseback than in a crowd. Growing up on a ranch taught me early about hard work and duty. While Brody dreamed of rodeo glory I studied animal husbandry and ranch management.

It's not glamorous but it's who I am.

Our folks gave us a deep love for this land and the cowboy life. When they passed, they left us more than a ranch. They left us a legacy. And I take that responsibility seriously. Especially since most of the work's fallen on me.

I don't mind it. It’s usually what happens on ranches like ours when you’re the oldest. But like Brody said, finding time for romance isn't easy. Not that I'm looking. I gave up on women long ago. Most don't understand ranch life. I won't budge on my duties. The few relationships I've had fizzled out fast.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing out. Then I look at what we've built here and the legacy we're carrying on. I know I'm right where I ought to be.

No, I think as I lean against the wall. I don't need a woman. Things are fine just the way they are.

Nine hours later, the last of the buckle bunnies finally trickle out of the gift shop. The moment the door swings shut behind them, I collapse into a chair in the break room. “Fuck, I’m exhausted.”

“Same.” Brody plops down in a chair beside me. “What do you say we close up shop and head back to the main house? I’m starving.”

“You two go ahead,” Jace says as he counts the last of the cash in the register. “I want to swing by Lindsay’s place and check on her.”

A clap of thunder rumbles in the distance.

“Well, be careful out there,” I reply as I glance out the window. “Looks like a storm is heading this way.”

Once Jace heads out, I start straightening up the store. After tossing empty boxes in the dumpster, I sweep up the mess left behind. Brody helps me load some leftover merch into my old red pickup parked out front.

Right as we’re finishing up, I glance out the front window and do a double-take.

A yellow cab has pulled up at the bottom of the dirt road leading up to the ranch. There’s a woman carrying a pink duffel bag getting out of it. And she’s wearing a wedding dress.

Christ.

“Uh, Brody?” I call out over my shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got one more customer.”

My brother comes up beside me and peers out the window. Then his eyebrows shoot up. “Is she wearing a wedding dress?”

“Looks that way.”

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really don’t have time for this right now.”

“What’s the matter, champ?” I chuckle. “Too tired for your fans?”

“Nah, it’s not that. I just got a text from my agent. I need to meet up with one of my sponsors for drinks tonight.” He gives me a pleading look. “Can you deal with her for me? I’ll sneak out the back.”

I sigh. “Yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

Brody claps me on the shoulder. “Thanks, bro. I owe you one.”

After he grabs his jacket and slips out the back door, I head outside to greet our unexpected visitor.

But when I get a closer look at her, it's like the entire world shifts under my feet. She's the most gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on.

Something flares in my chest as I continue to stare at her. Her curves fill out that white dress in all the right places. Full lips, slightly parted. Long dark hair, messy but sexy as hell. My eyes trail down her body and back up again.

She looks young, maybe twenty-two at the most. Way too young for a thirty-eight year old guy like me. Not to mention she's someone else's bride. But despite all that, only one word keeps pounding in my head.

Mine.

I try to snap myself out of it. She's probably just another one of Brody's groupies, here to throw herself at him. And she certainly wouldn’t be the first pretty girl to show up unannounced. I push down the irrational surge of jealousy at the thought.

"Sorry, sweetheart," I call out. "If you're looking for Brody, you just missed him."

The woman frowns. “Who?”

“Brody.”

“Who’s Brody?”

I pause, reassessing the situation. “Are you here for the pop-up shop?”

She shakes her head. “No, I ran out of cab fare. I was hoping I could charge my phone for a few minutes.” Her voice trails off when she peers over my shoulder at the darkened gift shop windows. Then her face falls. “Never mind, I guess I’ll just...”

She turns on her heel to leave and stumbles over the hem of her dress.

On instinct, I reach out. My hand closes around her arm, steadying her. “Easy there, sweetheart.”

She grips my bicep tightly. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

Her red-rimmed eyes lift to meet mine. And that’s when I realize that she's been crying. A surge of protectiveness catches me off guard. I don’t even know this woman. But for some reason, I want to know what happened. Who hurt her. I want to shield her from the world.

I nod toward the gift shop. “Tell you what. I have a few more things to do before I lock up. Why don’t you come inside and charge your phone for a few minutes?”

Relief floods her expression. “Really? That would be great. Thank you so much, Mr...?”

“Clayton.” I hold out my hand. “Wyatt Clayton.”

“Melody.” She gives me a shy smile and places her small hand in my much larger one. “Melody Sinclair.”

“That’s a pretty name. You from around here, Melody?”

I already know she isn’t, but I’m suddenly desperate to learn everything I can about this woman.

“Um, not exactly.” She hesitates for a second and bites her plump bottom lip. “I’m from New York.”

“Ah, so you’re a city girl.”

She giggles. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

I can’t help but grin. “Well, welcome to Wyoming, city girl.”

For a split second, my eyes drop to her mouth. And when I look back up, her cheeks are flushed.

Fuck.

That electric feeling in my chest is back. Only this time, it’s stronger.

I know I shouldn’t be flirting with her like this. But I can’t fucking help it. I’ve heard stories about how people in this town have been falling in love at first sight ever since the Walker brothers built their resort on the mountain a few years ago. I used to think it was all bullshit.

But as I gaze at Melody, now I’m not so sure.

We head into the gift shop, and I toss the keys to my truck onto the counter before ducking behind the cash register to fish out a spare charger. Melody waits patiently on the other side near one of the glass display cases.

I grab the charger and hand it to her across the counter. "Here you go. This should do the trick."

She takes it with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Wyatt."

When she plugs in her phone, I catch a glimpse of the lock screen. It's a photo of Melody in the arms of a broad-shouldered man in a suit. They're both smiling for the camera. But something about it feels off now. I look away quickly. “You want something to drink? A soda or something?”

Some of the tension leaves Melody’s shoulders. “A Coke would be perfect if you have one.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Coming right up.”

I head to the back room where we keep the mini-fridge and dig around for a Coke as I think about Melody's situation. Something doesn't sit right.

A woman in a wedding dress showing up out of nowhere. No car. No working phone. It's strange. I've seen tourists get into scrapes before. But this feels different. What's she running from? And what made her choose to stop here of all places?

Finally, I find a glass bottle of Coke buried in the back and straighten up. I pop the cap off the bottle. Melody’s life is not my business I remind myself. I'm just here to help her out then send her on her way.

I walk back toward the front, rehearsing casual conversation starters in my head. Maybe I can get her talking about New York, keep things light.

I’m halfway through the store when I look up and my steps falter. The spot where Melody was sitting is empty. My eyes dart to the window.

And that’s when I see my red pickup speeding down the driveway with Melody at the wheel.

Shit.