Page 79 of The Mountain Echoes
“Goin’ twice….”
He lifts the gavel. “No more?” He scans the crowd, just in case.
The gavel drops with a satisfying crack.
“Sold! Ten-five to Maverick Kincaid.”
There’s a light smattering of applause. It’s not for me but for the bull. For good breeding and a clean sale.
I nod once at the ring and catch Hunt’s eye. He tips his hat.
I turn and see Elena grinning.
Aria shifts beside me, her eyes on the ring. “That’s a hell of a bull.”
“Wildflower,” I say under my breath. “I’ll need the semen rights.”
Elena smirks. “You always do.”
“I’ll give it to you if you stop calling my wife Wildflower,” Duke interjects.
“No, you won’t.” Elena slaps his arm playfully. “Mav, we’ll negotiate, yeah?”
“Not gonna stop calling’ her what I’ve always calledher.” I lean back and put my arms on the empty seat behind me on the bleachers. “So, yeah,Wildflower, we’ll negotiate.”
Aria looks from Elena to me and then back.
She’s wondering if there’s something between Elena and me. Probably cementing the idea in her head that I’m a manwhore.
I brush my lips against her ears and murmur, “She’s just a friend.”
She glares at me. “And why do you think I care?”
“I know my cattle and my women,” I say, knowing it’ll just inflame her, and it does. She hisses but doesn’t cause a scene.
I’m enjoying myself, perverse son of a bitch that I am.
After I buy another steer and Wilder Ranch finishes selling theirs, we head to the food tent, where smoked brisket, potato salad, and baked beans have been simmering in cast-iron pots since sunrise.
Elena and Aria take a seat while Duke and I head to the bar.
By the time we have enough food to feed an army on our table and beer for everyone, a country band starts to tune up on the small stage in the large tent.
In the summer, we’d be sitting outside, but it’s too fucking cold for that. The tent has enough heaters to start a heat wave, so everyone’s shedding their coats and getting comfortable.
I spot Cade Mercer near the edge of the pens and give him a nod. I’ve been meaning to talk to him aboutthe fence line we share on the south pasture. It’s been needing attention—some wires are down and posts are leaning.
Cade’s had a rough go since his wife passed last year, and with a toddler to raise and a spread to run, he’s stretched thin. I figure I’ll offer to patch up both sides while I’ve got my crew out there.
I come back to our table to hear Elena tell Aria, “You can get Longhorn back in the ring, you know. Maybe not next season, but after. Get your cows in shape. Find a bull with decent lines. Start small. Grow hay right. You’ll make bank.”
I want to tell Elena to stop encouraging Aria. She doesn’t know the condition of the ranch’s finances, and worse, she doesn’t understand that Aria is not like her, doesn’t have her skills or experience. She’s a freaking grape grower for fuck’s sake.
Aria blinks, surprised by the casual reassurance. “You think I can?”
“It takes sweat and hellfire and making peace with dirt under your nails. And lookin’ at you, I see someone who ain’t afraid of work.” Elena raises her can of beer. “My husband says that legacy doesn’t come from money. It comes from grit.”
“I say that?” Duke teases.
