Page 24 of Wrecked for Love
ELIA
“Yah!” I hollered, my voice battling the wind as I pushed the cattle forward. “Move it, Bessie! Don’t make me come down there!”
The boys and I had taken the herd east that day for the fall gather, letting them graze on the best stretch of pasture at The Lazy Moose—land that never failed to make the old neighbors grit their teeth with envy.
The crisp fall air felt just right for rounding up cattle, a tradition my family had carried on for generations. My grandparents had fought tooth and nail to keep this land during a nasty dispute with the Vosses, a clan from up north. The Lucas family had always claimed this land, and no one—not even the Vosses—could take it from us, no matter how hard they tried.
Dad had always said the story was a myth, but Grandpa had sworn by it and said his father settled the boundary lines after a good ol’ bare-knuckle brawl with the Voss patriarch. They stepped into the ring and fought until one couldn’t stand. The Lucas family won it fair and square, and the boundaries have been ours ever since—defended throughout the seasons.
The herd moved in the right direction, but as usual, a few stragglers got it into their heads to make a game out of it. One of them turned sharply and bolted toward a gully.
“Look at that! Mabel’s gone full rodeo on us,” I hollered, shaking my head. “She’s got dreams of barrel racin’ in her future!”
“I’ll bet my month’s pay she’s just trying to outrun your breath,” Hank, my foreman, shot back.
“Please, more likely yours!” I fired back.
Hank grinned—one of those classic cowboy grins that hadn’t changed in years. The man had been working at The Lazy Moose since my dad’s time, and we trusted him like family. Even if he did have the breath of a mule after a long day.
We corralled the last of the wayward bunch, and with the herd finally settling down, we let them wander in peace.
The dogs circled back, their tongues hanging out, ready for more even though the day was winding down. Except for Koda, who stayed with me on horseback, his old bones too tired for the rough runs but too stubborn to sit at home. Still, he sat like a king on his throne, surveying the land as if he were still in charge.
We wrapped up the day’s work, the men chatting and ribbing each other the whole way back. When I finally made it to the house, I spotted Logan’s truck parked out front, with Koda trotting over to greet him.
Logan crouched down and rubbed Koda’s chest. “Still hitching rides, huh? Not bad for an old man.”
I slid off the saddle and made my way over to clap my best friend on the back. “You here lookin’ for work? I’m sure we can find you a shovel.”
Logan stood up, grinning. “You know I don’t do manual labor, El. Got too much brain for that.”
We headed up to the porch and dropped into the flat-cushioned chairs. I grabbed two cold beers from the cooler, cracked them open, and handed one to Logan.
“Valley Wolf?” he asked, eyeing the bottle.
“Yep, just found out about it. Brewed just over the hill in the next town. They, uh, bend the alcohol laws a bit,” I said with a grin. “Practically stronger than whiskey.”
“Of course you’d be the one offering me the strong stuff,” he said, taking a swig. “By the way, I come bearing gifts. Riley made this feast last night, and I figured I’d share before I slipped into a food coma.”
Another feast? Logan had nearly bolted when his wife planned a big bash for his thirtieth birthday the other day. Birthdays had never been his thing, though he barely looked like he’d aged a day. I was three years younger, but people often mistook us for being the same age.
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s the occasion? Finally remembered your anniversary?”
“Nah, just one of those nights. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, cheesy casserole. She’s trying to make sure I don’t leave her for someone who doesn’t cook.”
I lifted the lid of the Tupperware he set down, and the smell of home-cooked heaven hit me. “Damn, Log. You’re gonna make me fat.”
Logan snorted. “Too late for that.”
I handed him another beer, and we clinked bottles before taking long, satisfying gulps. The sun was starting to set, and the crew had mostly finished up.
“Seriously, what’s the deal with this fancy dinner?” I pressed, scooping up a piece of meatloaf.
Logan leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs. “Managed to rent out The Willow.”
I paused. He’d been trying to rent out that old place for years. It was a wonder he hadn’t just sold it off by now, but knowing Logan, he held on to it for sentimental reasons. It was the kind of place that carried memories—some good, some not so good. For me, it was mostly the latter.
“To who?” I asked, mid-bite, shooting Logan a look that said I was enjoying the food.
