Page 2 of Knot Her Cowboys
I could see how it would be unpleasant, but even that particularly potent smell was nostalgic for me. My high school sweetheart had grown up on a ranch and I’d probably spent more time there than at home. His family wasn’t much betterthan mine, unless I counted his little sister, Morgan, who was pretty awesome. His older brothers and dads were assholes, but not in the same way my mom was to me. Maybe it was just because I was a guest, but the Harris ranch had been a sanctuary for me.
I wasn’t going anywhere near it this trip. I planned to avoid anywhere Cooper might be, no matter how much Young Riley was screaming inside me to see how he’d turned out. That was one trip down memory lane I couldn’t take, not after I had sworn I would come back one day. Twelve years later was pushing it, even for someone who had held my entire heart.
“Why aren’t we staying in the city? Where are we going?” Bryan asked.
“I sent both of you the itinerary,” I reminded them. “We’re going to a ranch for the weekend and they don’t have those in the city.”
“I didn’t pack for a ranch,” Bruce lamented.
“We could stop and pick you up a pair of jeans,” I offered.
He looked as if I had just suggested he pick up a handful of freshly dropped cow shit bare-handed.
“Or not,” I added with a laugh. “Did you really not look at the itinerary at all? Please don’t tell me you only packed suits and dress shoes.”
“You have to make a good impression on people, Anne.”
“Anne, what exactlyarewe doing?” Bryan asked.
“Horseback riding, campfire singalongs, sightseeing. You know, ranch stuff.”
My friends in Montana didn’t know me as Anne. I’d been going by my middle name since moving away for college, one more roadblock to stop my mom from easily finding me. I’d also stolen Cooper’s last name, a ridiculous indulgence, but a connection to him and home I wasn’t ready to let go of. So Riley Fletcher had turned into Anne Harris, reborn out of the bullshitinto a New York socialite on the arms of Bruce Rochford and Bryan Reed.
I didn’t make a peep about how difficult it was going to be to do activities in their suits. It wasn’t too much to ask that they try to embrace where I was from for a couple of days when I had fully immersed myself in their home. I had learned all the protocols for them. I’d memorized a million names, how they were linked together and who to approach in what way so I didn’t embarrass my alphas.
They were better than Darlene; I reminded myself of that regularly, but then it was hard to be worse than my mother. They took care of me, and I had gotten really good at not doing anything to upset the people around them, which in turn meant they were rarely upset either.
I fought the urge to turn down the road that would lead to the Harris ranch, just so I could drive by. My alphas would probably lose it if they thought we were going that far into the wilds.
The drive out to Rowdy Rock Ranch was beyond beautiful. Descending from the Great Plains into the Rockies was like slipping into another world. The national forest decorated the hillsides and we moved down the roads like a serpent, getting closer to our destination.
“What the fuck?” Bruce muttered. “Where did the service go?”
“The mountains stole it,” I replied. “They do that.”
“How are we supposed to work? It’s going to come back, right? There’s Internet where we’re going?”
“You’re not supposed to work. This is a vacation.”
“Anne,” Bruce growled.
“I swear I checked with Kathy and Jan to make sure nothing was urgent before I booked us here. There’s Internet in one of the buildings, but I really want you guys to relax. You can’tappreciate Montana if you’re glued to your phones the whole time.”
“That’s not a choice you get to make for us,” Bruce grumbled.
“It was in the itinerary. I even highlighted that the place was mostly off grid.”
“In what universe do you think we have time to be reading itineraries?” Bruce snapped.
“Inthis onebecause you’re going on a trip with your fiancée for her birthday.”
“Shit,” Bryan whispered. The two of them exchanged a look. “Is it the end of August already?”
I white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Yes. Isn’t the date staring you in your face when you’re on the phone?”
“I’m sorry, babe. We’ve had a big project,” Bryan defended.
Bruce frowned. “We can’t be expected to know exactly what day it is. That’s what we have assistants for. This is their fault for not reminding us before we left.”
