Page 19 of Wrangle Me

Lord Pawldemort stretches lazily from his perch beneath the front window. Then he lets out a contented meow and curls back into himself like he owns the place. Which, in some ways, he does. He’s been in on the secret all along, keeping watch while we built it out, claiming his favorite sunspot and leaving fur on every damn cushion.

Maisie wanders through her new escape, taking in every detail with little gasps of excitement. Then she turns to me, and I see everything I hoped to find on her face: surprise, wonder, and peace.

Then she circles back around to me and drapes her arms around my neck. “It’s perfect. Thank you for loving me in exactly the right ways.”

I close the distance between us and brush my thumb along the line of her jaw. Her skin is warm, and her eyes shine.

“It isn’t your home, not unless you want it to be. But it’s your escape. Your space. Yours, completely. I never want you to lose yourself.

CHAPTER 17

FALLON

“Cheers, man. Congratulations.”

Bowen lifts his beer toward Callum, Alex, and me. I notice they are all drinking from crystal steins. I raise my beer bottle to them, clinking the neck like we’re at some upscale vineyard instead of standing on a dusty patch of ranch land.

I squint at their glasses. “Nice mugs. Real classy. I leave for a few years, and y’all are soft now. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Bowen just grins, shrugging like the domestic life settled around him without a fight. “You’ll catch up.”

Alex claps a firm hand on my shoulder. “Give it a minute. This place has a way of bringing you back down to earth.”

I nod but don’t respond. Instead I take it all in as they shoot the shit back and forth. Coming home after a whirlwind tour with the NFL Europe isn’t the triumphant homecoming people might think.

Sure, I’ve got abs you could serve a drink off and a bank account that’ll outlive me, but none of that prepares you for the hollow thud in your chest when you step out of first class and realize you don’t know where you belong anymore.

The setting sun through the windows casts long golden streaks across what should be a barn, though the place looks like some kind of museum. You don’t get sunsets like this anywhere else in the world.

Since I’ve been gone, I’ve pictured this place frozen in time, just like I left it. Instead, it moved on without me.

The ranch has changed in a million ways I didn’t expect. Half of my brothers are settled. Nurseries are being built and weddings are popping up like wildflowers. Yet somehow, I feel like I showed up late to the party and missed the best parts.

I tune back in and find that the conversation has drifted to more familiar grounds. There are insults, jokes, and plans for tomorrow’s fence repair. I polish off my beer and excuse myself to grab another. I thought I was chasing a big, important dream, but now I’m not so sure that it was the right decision.

Around the room, the usual cast of characters is assembled. Most have made their way to greet me sometime in the two days since I got back. The Welcome-Home Committee of Sagebrush Creek is alive and well… And apparently deeply invested in my dating life, if the podcast is any indication.

On my way back to my brothers, Patty June and Brandi Rose circle like buzzards with business cards. They say their hellos and each drops a list, an actual list, of daughters, nieces, second cousins, and family friends who arejust perfectfor me. I shove the scraps of paper in my pocket. I’ve seen résumés with less detail.

I don’t need a list. There’s only one woman I want to see, and she’s made herself damn hard to find. That is no easy feat in Sagebrush Creek. Especially when I know she still works at the ranch.

Anny.

Her name sits on my tongue like a secret I don’t know what to do with.

I haven’t seen her since I got back. Not even in passing. Not at the barn, not at the café, and not even hiding behind the feed aisle at the general store. And I’ve looked.

She’s avoiding me, which is fair. Probably smart, too. The last time we saw each other, I had a plane ticket in my back pocket. There wasn’t enough room for all our baggage where I was going.

I had the arrogance to think I could come back and everything would just… wait. But now I’m here. And she’s sure as hell not. I slip back in with my brothers and try to disappear. For the first time since my cleats hit the dirt, the silence is starting to sting.

“Hey, brother. Welcome back.”

A man steps into our little circle, and there’s something familiar about him, though I’m sure we’ve never met. He’s tall and solid. But it’s the jawline and stubborn Kingridge brow that gives him away.

“How was footballing, bro?” His voice is easy, confident, like he belongs here. “Glad you're back. You run our security, right? I’ve got some thoughts about solar cameras.”

I don’t like him.

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