Page 25 of Burn the Wild

Wyatt gives a devil-may-care shrug. “Snagged rope yanked it out of place. It’ll be healed end of the week.”

Davis looks doubtful. “Seems like a good time to think about that offer, doesn’t it?”

Wyatt’s retirement has been up for debate ever since the West Coast Saddle Bronc Riding Association approached him last winter. They made him an offer to establish his own rodeo clinic.

Wyatt sighs, long and annoyed. “No. It doesn’t.”

Mine and Charlie’s eyes slice to Wyatt. Davis is bossy as hell and we all give him shit for it, but he does the work at keeping our younger brother on course. Wrangling Wyatt is a thankless job and almost physically impossible.

“Why not?” Davis argues. “Working with Rand Younger could be a good thing. You did it before.”

Wyatt’s face clouds at the mention of his old coach. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“You ain’t no spring chicken, Wy,” I tell him.

Wyatt took some hard falls last summer. Recovery was tough, even for the guy who let a horse’s hoof stomp open his bicep.

“You’re thirty-four,” Charlie says, kicking a boot up on his knee.

Wyatt helps himself to a beer and sits on the arm of the couch. “I’m still pretty spry, man.”

“In rodeo, that’s fuckin’ ancient,” Charlie points out. “You can’t do it forever.”

But he could. And he would.

We all know why he’s staying in it, even if he won’t say it—to look out for Fallon. If she’s on the circuit, so is he.

Charlie clears his throat. “Ruby and I are going to put an offer in on the old ice cream parlor.” A strange grin creases his rugged face, and I bite back a laugh. If anyone can get him to smile, it’s Ruby. “Time to give Ruby her flower shop.”

“Fuck yeah, man,” Wyatt says, relieved the attention’s off him.

“When you thinking?” Davis asks.

“As soon as we can. Ruby needs it,” Charlie says, his voice weary.

I feel for my brother. Ruby’s aching to be a mama, but it’s not in her cards. Not with her heart condition.

“Get in line, brother,” Davis says, a proud grin on his face. “We open Dakota’s bakery at the end of the season.” Last year, Dakota bought her father’s old general store. Late summer is when she plans to open her very own bakery called The Huckleberry.

Davis sighs, shuffles through the papers on his desk. “We need to start working up a list of changes for next year.”

“We just opened,” I complain.

“Yeah, well, shit’s changing fast,” Charlie agrees. “Gotta get ready.”

My head hurts from the news. The ranch is really changing, and what am I doing? Absolutely fucking nothing.

“Jim Donovan called me today,” I announce, and my brothers go quiet.

Davis’s face storms. “What’d he want?”

“Pricks got some nerve,” Charlie mutters.

“To offer me a job.” I tug a hand through my hair. “Wants me to be a commentator for the Renegades.”

“You’d leave?” Charlie asks.

Davis dips his chin.

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