Page 57 of Wrecked for Love
Paul shook his head. “No, nothing like that. But I did hear the Vosses have been hanging around this side of town more than they should’ve lately.” Paul wasn’t as old as my dad, but they’d been friends back then. He knew all too well about the bad blood between the Lucases and the Vosses.
I scoffed, though the tension in my chest tightened a notch. “I’ll keep an eye on them,” I muttered, my mind already shifting into overdrive. I’d been doing everything I could to put distance between me and those bastards. But now, I had to make sure they stayed well away—from me and especially from Claire.
After what that slimefuck Armand had done to Tessa, I wasn’t about to let him—or any of them—get close to anyone I cared about. Not again. Not Claire.
21
ELIA
Billings was always a sight to see on auction day. With fall nearly over, the cattle market buzzed with life—the hum of cattle lowing, auctioneers calling out bids, and ranchers talking shop. I’d been coming here since I was a boy, but every trip felt like a reminder of just how massive Montana’s cattle industry really was. Hank and I were here to sell some of our stock while Logan and his crew were busy managing his own herd.
The Billings market was a well-oiled machine. Buyers and sellers moved between pens, checking out the cattle and eyeing up potential bids. Auctions like this didn’t just happen in one big room. They were staged throughout the day and organized into lots. Cattle were divided by weight, breed, and age, and each lot was auctioned off at lightning speed by auctioneers who spoke faster than a prairie wind.
Hank and I were standing by our lot, watching the buyers assess the herd. Hank leaned over, keeping a close eye on the potential bidders.
“Think we’ll fetch a good price today?” Hank asked, squinting as a man walked by and took notes on our cattle.
I smirked. “Better. I’ve got a feeling.”
Logan showed up a few minutes later, looking as confident as ever. He slapped me on the back. “Ready to lose that bet, El?”
“You’re dreaming, Log.”
Logan’s herd was no joke. He raised good cattle, just like we did, but there was always a bit of friendly rivalry between us. Today, the bet was simple: Who could get the best price for their cattle? Logan had been mouthing off all week, saying he’d take home the gold this time. But I wasn’t worried.
When the bidding for our cattle started, I felt the adrenaline kick in. The auctioneer rattled off numbers, and before I knew it, our lot was climbing higher and higher. Hank gave me a nod of approval as the price rose, and by the time the hammer dropped, we’d sold for more than I’d anticipated.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Hank muttered. “That’s a hell of a deal.”
“Not bad,” I said, hiding my satisfaction.
Logan’s turn came next. His lot sold well, but not enough to beat ours. The auctioneer’s voice crackled as the bids came in slower than he’d hoped. Logan shot me a look as the final price was announced. He didn’t have to say anything—I knew I’d won.
“All right, all right,” Logan laughed, shaking his head. “You got me this time, El. But hey, I still earned a good chunk of change, so I’m not complaining.”
By the end of the day, we were both feeling pretty damn good. Cattle sold, wallets full, and the market began to quiet down.
As we loaded up and prepared to head back to Buffaloberry Hill, Logan leaned against his truck, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“You know,” he started, “you should’ve sold Diesel. Hell, he’d make some buyer’s day.”
“That ornery old bastard? Not a chance. He’s got a good life at The Lazy Moose.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Well, with all the calves he’s fathered, I bet he’s keeping your lady cows real happy.”
I laughed outright, the image of Diesel strutting around like he owned the place flashing in my mind. “Yeah, well, he’s earned his crown. The man knows how to handle his ladies; I’ll give him that.”
Logan shook his head, still grinning. “You better be careful, El. He might start thinking he’s the real boss around there.”
“Trust me, he already thinks that,” I said, chuckling. “But as long as he keeps fathering strong calves, he can have his little fantasy.”
Then Log exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back. “Hey, I’ve gotta tell you something, man.” His tone dropped.
I forced a laugh, trying to steer clear of his sudden mood change. “Come on, don’t ruin the day. Your face looks like a vampire after a merry-go-round ride.”
“Sorry, man, but I’ve gotta tell you this,” he insisted, not taking the bait.
“Spill it.”
