Page 6 of The Edge of Intensity

“Hey,” I quip, trying to sound casual.

“Eastlynne,” he rumbles and tips his Stetson.

I’ve seen many men wearing cowboy hats of different brands, but the way Rourke wears his Stetson? It’s like the man was born to wear it.

“I don’t mind standing here until you get your fill, darlin’. Though, I did order everyone out of the stables for the next hour to make you feel at ease…so your private time is ticking away.”

The heat blossoming on my cheeks forces me to dive into my truck and grab my hat. What an asshole. Luckily, my annoyance and anger tone down the shame of being caught ogling.

Turning back to face him I snap, “Lead the way.”

He strides away and I make sure to stay a few steps behind him until I abruptly stop at the sight of a man riding a Longhorn.

“Now that’s a sight you don’t see every day,” I muse.

I hear Rourke chuckle. “Parker trains both horses and Longhorns. His father, Roper, is a Bull Riding World Champion. You might say his son followed in his footsteps.”

“Those horns are huge.” I turn to Rourke. “Do you ride bulls?”

His eyes are a twinkling sea of blue. “Nah, I’d rather stick with horses and let Parker and some of the other brothers handle the Longhorns. If I do interact with them it’s to put a herd from one into another pasture.”

“How many brothers do you have?” I wonder.

“By blood one, Cashton. He’s the youngest. We also have an older sister, Magdalena. The brothers I was referring to are my club brothers. My father used to be the president of the motorcycle club that runs the ranch until I took over last year. My parents still live on the property, but they’re enjoying their retirement while the second generation has taken over all the tasks. The older generation still helps out from time to time, though. We’re a solid brotherhood, a family…by blood or not.”

The words he just shared, along with the warmth in his voice, and the fondness written all over his face cause me to smile while I honestly tell him, “That’s nice and rare to have such a solid foundation surrounding you.”

“Definitely.” He starts to walk in the direction of the stables. “Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass, though. We also own a junkyard and I don’t enjoy the work, but we rotate shifts to keep things interesting. Everything is hard work, but I’d rather work with the livestock.”

“I can’t imagine doing anything else than working with horses. Especially when it comes to working with people,” I muse.

Rourke turns his head my way. “You work with your sister, right?”

I shrug. “I don’t mind people once I let them into my circle.”

“So, you do have friends?” he questions.

Wincing I admit, “No, too much work.”

He throws his head back and barks out a laugh. “Ain’t that the truth? But it’s worth having people to fall back on. I guess for me it’s different because I grew up in a huge as fuck found family. It’s not always nice and friendly, though. I would feed some of my brothers to the pigs if we had them.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Maybe I should get some pigs for that reason alone.”

“Nah, girl, stick to those horses you love, and let me know if anyone is bothering you.” He comes to a stop in front of a stall. “I’d make sure they’d never come near you again.”

I gaze up at him and realize by the fierce look in his eyes that he’s dead serious about the statement he just made. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

The nervous behavior of the horse in the stall grabs my attention. I can’t prevent the gasp falling from my lips.

“Who would do such a thing?” I whisper and take in all the injuries this poor horse has all over his body.

“A former brother of our MC bought Buckey. We didn’t know he was buying him for a friend of his, we only discovered this fact last week. When I went over to check out the new owner, I found out the fucker couldn’t handle Buckey and tried to whip and beat him into obedience. Needless to say, I took Buckey with me,” Rourke grits.

“How can someone from your family do such a thing?” I whisper, remembering what Rourke just told me about his brotherhood.

Rourke sighs. “Every few years we take on a new prospect or two to grow our business and family. We do extensive background checks and they have to prospect for over a year or so to prove themselves. Winfield, the one who fucked-up, recently patched in as a full member. He was with us for over a year and lives in town, so he wasn’t a complete stranger since he always came into the bar we own. Anyway, we know people can make mistakes, but he fucked-up when he ignored a rule we have in place. This horse.” He points at Buckey. “Will forever carry the trauma with him, that’s unforgivable.”

I tilt my head and can’t help but wonder, “Maybe Winfield didn’t know his friend was going to hurt Buckey.”

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