Page 21 of Relentless

It was as though Dallas could read her thoughts. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Stop worrying, woman.”

She nudged him playfully with her elbow, her lip curling into an amused smile.

The morning went by much too quickly, and before long, it was time to leave for the auction. Maeve could have kicked herself for planning ranch business that week. She buttoned up her shirt and pulled her belt through the loops of her bootcut jeans. She felt Dallas’ strong arms wrap around her, his fingers sweeping her long brown hair off her shoulder. She closed her eyes, enjoying the bristle of his beard and his soft lips tracing just below her ear. Taking one last glance at their reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t help but notice that it was perfect.

“We could just skip the auction, right?” she breathed, twisting the smooth button on his collared shirt.

He gave a low chuckle, sliding his hands to her waist. “You’re the boss.”

Maeve sighed.

“Well, when you put it like that.”

Despite their blissful week, she still felt the ranch’s future weighing heavily on her shoulders.

She led the way down the stairs, turning the corner to find Barb had returned as sentry to her post at the front desk.

“Will you be back in time for dinner?” Barb inquired, her voice crackling with the rasp of a thousand cigarettes.

“We’re giving you the night off,” Maeve informed. “We’ll be back late.” Folding her hands on the desk, she took the time tostop and chat. “I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us this week. We’ve had a great stay.” Ruth had taught her long ago that it didn’t take much to make someone’s day. Showing a little kindness was worth the risk of being pulled into another lengthy conversation with the chatty owner of the inn. She couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved that Barb simply beamed at the compliment and shooed them out the door.

Dallas took his place in the driver’s seat and hit the ignition. The diesel engine rumbled to life, and Maeve pulled the seatbelt across her chest. She felt him reach over and clasp her hand again, intertwining his fingers with hers while he navigated the truck out of the tight parking lot. With Dallas’ pastoral duties, it wouldn’t be often that he could accompany her for ranch business.

Pulling up to the auction house, she noticed the parking lot was already filling with dusty pickup trucks. Her eyes landed on four brand new, sparkling fleet trucks withMelody Fieldspainted in bold letters across their tailgates.

“Just great,” Maeve muttered under her breath. Although Melody Fields sounded beautiful and serene, they were her up-and-coming, fierce competition in the rodeo industry. Wherever team Callaway went, Melody Fields never seemed far behind.

Maeve pushed the heavy truck door open and stepped her boots into the powdery dirt. While waiting for Dallas to joinher side, she pulled on her tan cowboy hat and adjusted her aviator sunglasses.

The Melody Fields ranch hands were grouped in the shade near their parked trucks, spitting tobacco and laughing obnoxiously together. In the middle of the huddle was a tall, lanky cowboy with a handlebar mustache. He took a noticeable second glance at Maeve and Dallas as they made their way toward the auction house doors. Lazily raising himself from a leaning position, he pulled his hands from the tight pockets of his Wrangler jeans.

Maeve bit the inside of her cheek and pressed out an exasperated exhale when she caught sight of Tucker sauntering their way.

“Here we go,” she emphasized with a deep eye roll, hidden behind her aviator sunglasses. She felt Dallas squeeze her hand, a subtle reminder to keep her composure.

“Well, well, well, Maeve Callaway,” he goaded with a thick country twang. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were tracking me.”

“I could say the same,” she replied, feeling another tight squeeze from Dallas. “Tucker Clay, this is Dallas —”

“Dallas Wilder,” Tucker declared, cutting her off entirely and swiveling with a wide grin. “My dad used to go on and on about competing against you back in the good ol’ days.” He gripped Dallas’ hand. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Getting married mostly,” Dallas answered, nearly pulling Tucker off his feet as he took control of the handshake.

Tucker’s eyebrows shot up as a smirk spread across his face.

“I guess a congratulation is in order,” he announced. “I suppose I should call youMr. Callaway?” He snickered, giving the men behind him a sidelong glance that sent them wheezing with laughter.

“You better watch out for this one, Maeve,” Tucker went on, slinging his arm around Dallas’ shoulder like they were old friends. “My dad always said the lucky dog had buckle bunnies chasing him at every rodeo — not to mention a girlfriend at every stop along the way.”

Dallas maintained his frozen smile, though there was an unmistakable dash of danger in his eye.

Knowing it was now her turn, Maeve reached over and squeezed Dallas’ hand.

“Well, Tucker,” Maeve spoke up, taking the reins of the conversation from Tucker’s arrogant clutches. “Always a pleasure, but I’ve got some cattle to win.” Without another word, they swept past him toward the auction house doors.

“In your dreams, Maeve,” Tucker taunted with a wide grin.

Once inside, Maeve went around the room, greeting her colleagues with a friendly handshake and a spark of pride as she introduced her new husband. Many of the old timers recognized Dallas from his time in rodeo, nearly shaking his arm off and wishing them well on their recent nuptials. When they finally took their seats, Maeve couldn’t help but observe that Dallas had been quiet since their run-in with Tucker.

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