Page 38 of Buckled in Barbwire

Pressure cinches around my ribs. “Ah, Ted. You’ve gone and spoiled the surprise. I’ve got a whole spectacle planned to ask for his approval.”

“Oh, shoot.” The old man blanches. “I didn’t mean to barge into your business.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I understand getting ahead of myself.”

Ted wipes his sweaty brow. “Thank goodness. I’d hate to be the one who ruined your proposal.”

“To be honest, you’ve probably made the process easier for me. Laid the groundwork I hadn’t gotten around to yet.”

He brightens, squaring his shoulders like a proud politician. “Glad to be of service.”

My concentration wanders to the far field where a horse trailer pulls in, joining the long row of others. “Decent turnout, huh?”

“Looks that way. Some folks are usin’ this as anopportunity to ditch excess stock before winter hits. Oh, that reminds me”—he drops his tone to a conspiring level again—“are you sellin’ Echo?”

Every muscle in my body solidifies into stone. It’s a chore to breathe through the block of guilt now resting on my chest. “No, of course not. Who would say such a thing?”

Am I manipulating Paisley to believe otherwise? Yes. Do I feel bad about that? Only when I think about it long enough. Fuck, I really am an asshole.

Shame slams into me with the force of a wrecking ball. Maybe I’m taking things too far. I’d purposely avoided thinking about that crooked curveball I threw at Paisley. It was foolish of me to assume word wouldn’t get out about my latest dick move. The evidence of my inflated confidence is mocking me. And to make the situation worse, it’s been less than a week.

It’s only then I realize that Ted is staring at me too carefully. “Hey, don’t let the rumors get to ya. Figured it was a pile of manure.”

“Right,” I rasp.

He brushes off his hands as if it’s that easy to drop the subject. “Your dad coming today?”

“Nope. He’s out of town with Uncle Jimmy. There’s a breeder in Montana who insisted we need to see their new stud in person. All too eager to spread his seed.” I almost gag on my own attempt at lightening the mood.

Ted’s bushy eyebrows rise to the cloudy sky. “You got him to leave the compound?”

“After much persuasion.” Damn, that’s one more slash against me. I’ll have to beg Mom for extra forgiveness before bed tonight.

“And here you are, making a public appearance. Way to rule the roost.” He pats me on the back. “Good for you, Brody.”

“Mhmm, just doing what I can. What’s with the barrel race on a ball field?” I lift my chin to the makeshift arena.

“Not sure,” Ted laughs. “From what I’ve heard, they got the idea on the YouTube. Or maybe it was that clock app. What’s it called? Ticky-tack?”

“TikTok,” I offer.

He snaps his fingers. “Yes, that’s the one. The committee brought the suggestion to several organizations. Race for the Fences was the fastest to accept.”

But I’m barely listening. My future wife has revealed herself. Thunder roars in my ears as I pinpoint Paisley’s position in the temporary corral. She’s waving her arms in wild motions while chatting with her cousin. From the looks of things, Cassidy just got done riding. I find myself wondering why Paisley didn’t enter. The best answer will come straight from the source.

“Great talking to you, Ted.” I give him a crisp nod before stalking my target. “I’ll be in touch about that favor.”

“What favor?” he calls after me.

I lift my hand in farewell. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Meanwhile, Paisley is all I see. Her golden hair shines bright even in overcast conditions. She’s a beacon solely meant to snare me.

My boots stomp across grass and dirt to erase the distance between us. People wisely leap from my path. The determination in my glare probably signals an alarm. It makes getting to her a short trek across the pen. Just as I’mabout to make my presence known, Paisley begins backing away from her cousin.

She clips me with her elbow and immediately whirls to face me. An apology waits on her parted lips until recognition settles in. Her glare could scare unruly children into behaving. It has the opposite effect on me.

Paisley fumes when my smirk stretches wider. “What the hell are you doing here?”

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