Page 3 of Live for Me

“A grizzly,” I answered. “Small, though. Not fully grown.” Denver muttered something under his breath, forcing me to add, “He was on the edge of the ranch, Denver. He’s probably looking for a female.”

“Let’s hope.”

Every morning, if the weather allowed it, I hiked up Denver’s mountain and watched the sunrise. It was a ritual I’d had for over ten years—even when I wasn’t working here.

“What else is on your mind, Den?” I asked, studying him. He was my boss, but he was also my family. Over the years, I’d learned how to read him, although not as well as Mags or his brother, Mason. Denver had been quiet all morning and didn’t stop by the bunkhouse for his second cup of coffee like he usually did. He would have one with his wife in the early morning, and then he’d have one with all of us.

Something was eating at him.

“It doesn’t feel right,” he answered, still looking at the tree line.

I shifted in my saddle, the hair on the back of my neck rising. “What doesn’t feel right?”

“Something is coming,” he said. The crack of a whip in the distance snapped him out of it, and he shook his head.

Clearing my throat, I twisted my torso, looking over to the herd. “When do we go to auction?”

“End of September.”

I nodded, looking over to Lawson as he called a cow, hollering, his voice echoing across the pasture.

“How’s your father doing?”

Denver’s question took me aback, and I found myself facing him again, my shoulders tense. “He’s doing just fine,” I told him. My father also worked for Hallow Ranch, and was one of John Langston’s best friends. That was, until the dark truth about my boss’ father came to light a couple years ago.

“His week is almost up,” the cowboy noted, still watching the herd.

Every year, my father took a week-long vacation outside of Colorado to visit the only woman he’d ever loved—my mother. Isaid nothing, staring at Denver. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“You think he’s going to come back this time?” he finally asked.

My jaw tightened as I looked to the mountain, staring at the bare trees. A couple years ago, a man set this side of the mountain on fire—with Denver’s woman trapped in the forest—and the land was still healing. Denver had gotten Valerie out, thank God. Hopefully by next spring, we would see the trees bloom again. Until then, the scar was still there, reminding us all of that dark day.

“I don’t know,” I said, the truth slipping from my lips easily. “You know he’ll never leave this place, let alone me.”

Denver grunted, resting his hands on the horns of his saddle. “You’re thirty-one years old.”

“You’re thirty-six, almost seven, asshole,” I shot back. “Age has nothing to do with it.”

His lips twitched. “What I meant was, you’re a grown man. Maybe it’s time for the old man to let go.”

“You and I both know he won’t.”

“Want me to make him?” Denver offered.

Without looking away from the herd, I said calmly, “You fire my father, I’m shooting you in the kneecaps.”

A rough, deep chuckle came from him then. “You’d be dead before you pulled out your pistol, pretty boy.” He clicked his tongue, urging his horse forward. “Come on. We have work to do.”

I stared at his back as Ranger carried him towards the herd, an uneasy feeling swimming in my gut.

What was coming to Hallow Ranch?

“This is stupid,” the boy mumbled at the bunkhouse table, staring down at his open textbook. He had his fingers weaved through his thick, black locks, his mouth twisted in frustration.

I shook my head, removing my hat and setting it on the hook next to my bunk. The workday was done, and the sun had begun her slow descent below the horizon. “Caleb, you chose to do this,” I reminded Denver’s son. He was nearly a teenager now, and somehow, Valerie convinced him to take summer school courses so he’d be able to graduate high school early.

“It sounded like a good idea at the time,” he shot back, glaring at me with his gray eyes, the same as his daddy’s.

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