Page 17 of Marrying the Billboard Cowboy

“God, am I doing the right thing?” he whispered, a silent prayer carried off by the wind.

He wrestled with the tangle of fears knotted inside him. Marriage was no small commitment, and every step toward Kaitlyn felt like walking on a frozen lake, unsure if the ice would hold. She needed stability for her son, and he could offer that... but love? That was a luxury neither of them was looking for.

Zeke’s boots crunched over the stiff grass as he made his way back to the main house, each step heavier than the last. He entered through the side door, stepping into the familiar embrace of scents—leather, wood, and the faintest hint of cinnamon.

“Evening, Zeke.”

“Hey, Dad,” Zeke replied, mustering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He loved his dad, practically worshipped the man as a child. But as Zeke had become an adult, the pressure of his father’s expectations had become harder and harder to bear.

“Didn’t see you around the ranch much today.” The statement seemed innocent, but Zeke felt the unasked questions in every word.

“Had some stuff to do in town,” he replied, his mind flicking back to the woman and child tucked into his bed.

Barry’s expression tightened, lines of disapproval etched deep into his weathered face. “What kind of things? And why are you at the house this late anyway?”

“Not that you aren’t always welcome,” his mom interjected, silencing her husband with a look. “We’re just curious. You can talk to us, Ezekiel.”

A cynical laugh escaped his lips before he could stop it. “Is that so?”

His dad’s eyebrows dipped. “Is this about cooking again? You know how I feel about that.”

Zeke’s shoulders tightened, preparing to rehash the same argument they’d had a hundred times.

“Cooking is fine as a hobby, but the ranch?” He swept an arm wide, encompassing the expanse of their land. “This is real life, Zeke. Your granddad built this place up from nothing, and I’ll be darned if I let it fall to outsiders because my own son won’t step up.”

“Being a chef isn’t just a hobby to me,” Zeke countered, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. “It’s my calling. Just like ranching is yours.”

Redemption Ridge Ranch wasn’t the only thing the Reynolds family owned. All across Colorado were ranches owned and operated by the Reynolds ranching empire. All of it was way more than Zeke ever wanted to deal with.

His father’s jaw worked silently, the unspoken words hanging between them, heavy as the winter quilts stored in the cedar chests. Zeke knew the argument wasn’t finished.

“You’re so stubborn,” Dad finally said with a sigh.

“Wonder who I get that from,” Zeke muttered in reply.

“Just remember, family and land are forever, son. Don’t throw away what’s been given to you.”

“I’m not throwing anything away, Dad,” Zeke insisted, though doubt whispered in the corners of his heart. “I’m just choosing a different path.”

Zeke watched his father retreat up the stairs, feeling the invisible cord that tied him to this place stretch taut. He couldn’t escape the sense of duty that came with his name, but neither could he deny the passion that came alive in the heat of the kitchen.

Marrying Kaitlyn was the key to it all. As soon as that marriage license was signed, Zeke became one-third owner of Redemption Ridge Ranch. Along with Cassie, his sister. Between the two of them, they’d have the majority, and Cassie wouldn’t have any problem releasing Zeke from his role as Ranch Manager. In fact, Zeke had been slowly handing over as much responsibility as he could to Cassie’s husband, Jason.

With their dad relegated to minority owner, he’d have no choice but to let Zeke step down. The number of times Zeke had considered leaving anyway, without his ownership intact, would surprise everyone. But he loved the ranch. It was in his blood as much as his father’s. But managing it just wasn’t what he wanted to do every day.

And pretty soon, he wouldn’t have to.

His mother raised an eyebrow at him. “Whatareyou doing here so late?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I have a friend from Denver staying in my cabin, so I’m just going to sleep upstairs.”

“A friend, huh?” The hopeful look on his mother’s face made him consider telling her everything. But it needed to wait.

“Good night, Mom,” he said with a half-smile.

“Good night. I love you,” she said softly.

After a restless nightin his childhood bed, Zeke returned to his cabin. The morning sun cast long shadows across the floorboards of Zeke’s bedroom as he buttoned up his best shirt, the fabric stiff and unfamiliar against his skin. He’d gotten up and slipped out of the main house before his parents could corner him and his mother could ask more questions.

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