Page 107 of Bravo

Bradyn has been good for her. Just as she’s been good for him.

“Yeah, I want to take a quick ride over the ridge. Spent all day working on that old Chevy, so I’m wanting to stretch Bobby’s legs a bit.”

“Totally get it.” She beams at me. “The new fencing looks great. Bradyn’s finishing up out there then heading in himself.”

“Date night tonight?” I ask, knowing that they’re in the final preparations for their wedding and likely spending the evening going over the last-minute details before their walk down the aisle next month.

“Yes.” She grins. “We’re so close to having everything ready. I can’t wait.”

She currently lives in one of the ranch hand cabins on the property, though she spends quite a bit of time with her parents in town. They just bought a house a few weeks ago, and she’s been helping them get everything unpacked and in its rightful place.

“It’s going to be great to have you in the family.” I smile then climb onto Bobby’s back.

“Hey, I thought I already was a part of the family?”

I laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“That I do. See you later!” she calls out.

“See ya!” I urge Bobby into a trot while Echo runs silently beside us. The ridge is a nickname my brothers and I gave the tallest hill on the ranch. It leads into some thick oak trees, and we used to use them for ‘cover’ when we’d play Army as kids.

A game that turned into a desire to serve our Country for the better part of a decade. Until we all felt pulled back home.

I reach the bottom of the ridge then ride up, stopping only once we’ve reached the top. From here, I can see the entire ranch. Two hundred acres of beautiful bliss with our houses scattered just far enough apart that we get privacy but close enough that family is never too far away.

Clicking my tongue, I urge Bobby to head down the other side. With it being spring, we’ve had a lot of rain recently, more so than usual even this time of year. Not that I’m complaining. The creeks are all full, and the pastures are green, which will make for happy, healthy cattle.

Ahead, the largest creek on our property is overflowing with glistening water. It’s fed by the Red River that runs along the border of Oklahoma then splinters through our property and even on into the next ranch.

My brothers and I spent many summers swimming in this creek as it’s a good fifteen feet across and typically has at least a foot of water in it at all times.

Today it’s nearly spilling over, though, and I won’t even pretend that, if it wasn’t warm enough, I wouldn’t be jumping in to cool right off.

I keep riding, continuing up the creek a bit, enjoying the solitude. Birds chirp overhead, and somewhere, a bullfrog calls out. Man, I love spring. It’s my favorite time of the year. I love how everything just comes back to life.

Favorite time of—Echo lets out a warning bark. Instinctively, I reach behind me, my hand closing over the grip of my pistol. It’s more than likely a coyote or other wild predator, but just in case, I withdraw my firearm and climb down off of Bobby.

He’s not the least bit spooked, which wouldn’t be typical if there was an animal nearby. So what’s going on?

“What is it, boy?” I ask, walking to Echo’s side.

He lets out another warning bark then heads toward the creek. I follow on foot, leading Bobby behind me.

We make it five steps, and I see exactly what caught his eye.Oh no.

I drop the reins and rush forward, holstering my weapon as I jump into the creek. The water is cold against my legs and hits up to my waist, but I push forward through the current to getto the slender body draped over a tree limb, partially hidden, thanks to the canopy of trees draping over this side of the creek.

Shoving the branches aside, I get my first full view, and the blood drains from my face.No. It can’t be.Water sloshes around my waist as I move closer, shoving the impossibilities aside and focusing on the now.

A cascade of soaking wet, red hair is matted and tangled in the bark of the fallen tree, but I manage to brush it aside and check for a pulse.

The body is cold, but there’s a weak pulse.

I do my best to untangle the hair so I can retrieve the body and get whoever this is to safety. I roll the body into my arms and find myself staring down at a woman so pale, so cold, it’s a miracle she’s even alive.

With her in my arms, I see the differences, but they’re not enough for me to ease the emotion searing me from the inside.

And then I note blood on the front of a white, man’s shirt. Saturated enough that even the creek didn’t wash it away. There’s so much. How is she still breathing?

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