Page 18 of Rodeo Cowboy
“Ah, hell.” I take the hand my brother offers and rise to my feet.
Silver’s watching me with a concern I sure as hell don’t like. “Trouble in paradise already?”
“I came to check the stalls last night and must’ve fallen asleep.”
“Clearly, but why were you leaving your wife in the first place?”
“To ensure your lazy ass didn’t screw up my barn.”
Silver cocky gaze lingers on the shiny brass nameplates above each stall. “I did fucking amazing.” My brother thrives on praise and attention.
I dust off my ass and backside.
“I rode over on Rough to say good morning to Lucky, Broken, Protective, and especially Rodeo here.” My brother strokes the horse, but Rodeo lowers his head and nudges me.
“Hey there.”I pat the horse’s neck.
“Traitor,” my brother grumbles. “Anyway, they’re all driving over. If I were you, I’d get your ass in the house and warn your bride.”
***
AYLA
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COWBOYS LIE.
Cowboys cheat.
Cowboys keep secrets.
And I am not getting mixed up in another cowboys cock and bull story.
“My name is Ayla Benton, and I’m interested in selling my ranch. I’m seeking a real estate agent to help me with the process. Please call me back.” I leave my phone number in the voicemail and hang up.
No one’s in the office on New Year’s Day, but a message is closer to getting our lives in order. After a night of tossing and turning, I’ve decided cutting all ties from the ranch life and moving to California is the best decision for my family.
Cutting ties from Sammy.
He may have been a great ranch foreman—quiet, grumpy, and all—but he’s a hot mess that I don’t want my nieces and nephew exposed to. They’ve been through enough. I’ve been through enough.
I pass through the kid’s bedroom, where they’re still asleep. I’m not surprised. They have no interest in waking at the crack of dawn for ranch chores. Not anymore. Not since that tragic day. California will be best for us.
I need caffeine to continue functioning and a phone number to rent a car. I can’t sit in a truck with Sammy for the long home ride. I won’t.
I move down the hallway silently, hoping he’s still sleeping on the couch. He doesn’t have a list of chores, so maybe he won’t be early to rise.
The kitchen is clear. The couch is empty. And no signs of Sammy.
I quickly find the supplies to brew a pot of coffee. It gurgles and hisses. I lean my hip on the counter, close my eyes, and inhale the savory aroma.
Beyond the wall of windows, the sun rises, casting a warm orange glow.
The coffee machine beeps, and I eagerly pour a cup. I lift the pottery mug to my lips and take a long sip, relishing the rich flavor and warmth that spread throughout my body.
Coffee is just what I need to jumpstart my day. I instantly feel re-energized and ready to take on whatever the day has in store for me.
I hear a vehicle door slam. Then another.
