Page 6 of Claimed By the Cowboys

Tate’s eyes glitter with excitement. “I guess I better get going.”

“Yeah. Probably so,” I say, my eyes lingering on the pit.

Following my gaze, Tate gives me a gentle push on the shoulder. “It’s all going to work out, Brent. We’ve got this. We have the product. We just don’t know how to get it to people who will pay for it.”

I nod, but the feeling in my gut tightens.

“It’s not like the last time,” he says softly.

I didn’t want to say it out loud. But now that Tate has, guilt floods me.

“We need to get ready for her to come over,” I grunt. “Do you need me to chop onions or some shit?”

“Your knife work skills are terrible,” he sighs. “If you finish chopping wood out here, I’ll do the onions.”

Silently, I walk away, grabbing the axe from him as I go. The door to the house slams shut, the sound making me wince. Just another thing that needs to be fixed.

I position myself over the hickory logs, letting my body engage in the familiar ritual of chopping. The noise, the movement, the steadiness of it, all start to make my muscles burn as I hack through the pile of logs that Tate left.

It’s not like the last time.

What he didn’t say was that the last time was one hundred percent my fault. The whole reason we’re in this mess, the reason the ranch isn’t paid off, and we’re just barely floating on top of our bills right now, is because of me.

By the time the sun starts to set, I’m sweating, and the pile of hardwood has been reduced to splinters.

Dalton’s the one who finds me, staring into the pile of wood as I realize that I might have gone a little too hard.

“I think Tate did need it to like… last for a while,” he says.

I sigh. “Yeah. Well. Accidents happen.”

“Hickory isn’t cheap or easy to find in Montana,” Dalton drawls.

I glance up. “And yet here Tate is, with easily two trees’ worth.”

“He’s resourceful like that.”

I lean on the axe, studying my friend. “How are the horses?”

“Horses,” Dalton says by way of explanation.

That’s my friend. Eloquent and verbose. “Get that hoof thing fixed?”

Dalton nods. He’s been around horses since he could walk. His uncle was a farrier and raised Dalton on the road for the most part. When it was time to go to school, however, he lived with either Tate or me, and we did our best to make sure that no one in town knew. Dalton’s been through enough. No one needed to know how he managed to make it to school each day.

But, same as for me, Piper was his saving grace. She always made sure that Dalton’s secret was something that never came up in conversation. We all owe her so much.

“Heard Piper’s on her way,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s time.”

A shadow crosses Dalton’s face. “Feels wrong, to ask her for help.”

I know what he means. Piper has literally been the light of each of our lives since we met her. She has a special place in everyone’s heart. Just her mere existence is enough, and none of us want to be a drag on her. But without her, this is never going to work.

I give Dalton a curt nod. “I know. But she’s good at this shit, and we aren’t.”

His nostrils flare slightly. “Rather break a mean yearling than do this,” he admits.

---