Page 106 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
Her eyes lift, red-rimmed and cautious, and I offer her the softest smile I can.
“We’ve got nothing but time, Sophia. And it’s yours.”
She pulls back slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her breath still trembles on the exhale, but there’s clarity in her expression now. Calm after the storm.
“You guys…” Her voice cracks, and she clears it, but she doesn’t retreat this time. “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever… had that. Not like this. Not from anyone.”
Ridge squeezes her hand, silent and steady beside her. Cash rubs her back, waiting without pushing. I don’t speak. I just hold her gaze, grounding her.
“I don’t know what to do with it yet,” she admits, voice soft. “I want to be here. I want to try. But rightnow, I just… I need a little space to breathe. To sort out what’s mine and what’s fear talking.”
“No pressure,” I say gently. “Take all the time you need.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Cash adds.
Sophia smiles—small, but real. “I know.”
She stands slowly. Her legs brush mine as she rises, and she pauses, glancing down at all three of us like she’s seeing us fully for the first time.
“I just need some time,” she says, voice steadier now. “Before this turns into something even bigger than it already is.”
She walks to the door, and just before stepping out, she looks back.
“Thank you for not making me feel weak for needing someone.”
And then she slips outside, the door closing softly, leaving behind silence that hums with possibility.
20
RIDGE
The afternoon sun beats mercilessly on my shoulders as I work the fence line near the animal shelter section. The posts have been sagging for weeks—probably from the goats using them as their personal scratching posts. The throb in my hip is there, quieter than usual. Three years since the accident, and I still move like an old man some days.
I’ve got my toolbox spread out, new wire coiled at my feet, trying to focus on something other than the Omega who’s been haunting my every thought. Yet my gaze keeps drifting to the pen beyond the fence I’m repairing, where she’s attempting to feed the rescue goats.
She’s completely swarmed, clearly out of her element. Not a ranch girl—that’s obvious from how she holds the feed bucket like it might explode. Butthere she is, boots planted uncertainly in the mud, wearing jeans and a shirt, and that red hair fluttering in the breeze as she tries to fend off eager goat heads.
“Harold!” Her voice carries across the field, sharp with exasperation. “Back it up. I see you, and no, my shirt is NOT a snack for your face!”
Harold, our biggest and most stubborn billy goat, butts against her hip with enough force to make her stumble. The bucket tilts dangerously in her grip.
“Oh, you think you’re tough?” She plants a hand on her hip, staring him down with more courage than sense. “I’ve dealt with Chicago rush-hour traffic, buddy.”
I pause mid-hammer swing, something dark and possessive stirring in my chest. She’s arguing with them like they understand every word, and maybe they do. Harold tilts his head, considering his options, before making another grab for her pocket.
“That’s it!” She backs up, holding the bucket high above her head. “Y’all had better be glad you’re cute, or I’d be filing workplace harassment charges. This is a hostile work environment! I know my rights!”
I chuckle to myself.
Mabel, our escape-artist doe, sneaks behind her and starts nibbling at her calf through her jeans.
“OW!” Sophia jumps, spinning around so fast she nearly loses her balance. “What kind of evolutionary advantage is that supposed to be? Darwin would be appalled!”
I’m fighting not to laugh out loud now. The way she moves, all that untamed energy, that mouth that never stops, it makes me want things I shouldn’t want. Dark things. Things that would probably scare her if she knew the thoughts running through my head.
“Listen up, you mangy lot,” she announces, attempting to pour feed into the trough while using her knee to block Harold’s advances. “Form an orderly line, or I swear I’ll turn every last one of you into stew. Don’t test me. I have recipes. Google is free, and I’m not afraid to use it!”
The goats surge forward in complete chaos, ignoring her threats entirely. She squeals, laughing despite herself, and the sound shoots straight through me like lightning. I’m grinning like a fool, watching and listening to her.
