Page 36 of Whirlwind

I laughed. “It was Ladd’s idea. He’ll be running that section on his own.”

He tipped his head at me. “You still like that Ladd?”

I averted my gaze back to the calves which had now all been sprayed. “He’s all right.”

Only a grunt escaped Grandpa’s lips. Jeb and the men were back on their horses, reuniting the cows and their calves to drive them toward a new pasture for the month ahead. The dust kicked up as Jeb signaled the men, who directed a handful of strays with whoops.

The movement of everyone in concert sent a heated zing up my spine. I slid my camera from my messenger bag and focused on Jeb, pulled back to get the animals, the dust, the other cowboys on their horses driving the animals forward. Quickly, I shot Grandpa, that gleam in his eyes as his chest puffed up, his shoulders broadening, chewing on his lip as he took in the fine tuned operation for the millionth time.

He pushed back from the pen. “You coming, darlin’?”

“No, I’ve got to get back”was on the edge of my lips. My lips closed.

Get back to what? The office?

I hadn’t been out here for a proper visit in almost a month, I hadn’t been on a horse in more than that. Riding with Grandpa? Way too long.

I tucked my camera in my bag. “I’m coming, Hildebrand.”

That satisfied grin lit up his eyes. His face beamed, and I was ten years old again—when he’d squeeze my leg in approval after I’d mount my horse on my own, when he’d take my hand in his as we’d hike up a steep, rocky hill. A simple thing, but it wasn’t often I had Grandpa time on my own. And riding with him on our land? Best thing ever.

We mounted our horses and took off, following the men and the animals at an easy clip. Before us the low grassy hills stretched out. My horse, Drifter, lengthened his stride, shifting beneath me with every step, his great muscles working.

Dad had taught me how to ride. How to saddle a horse, how to clean a stall. Jessa and Mom would be home playing with Barbies, while Dad, Five, and I would be here on the ranch with Grandpa and Uncle Maddox and loads of cousins. Often we’d all stay here for weeks at a time during summer and winter vacations.

When Dad had told Grandpa he didn’t want to run the ranch, it had been a rough pill for Grandpa to swallow. Dad had an entrepreneurial spirit with ideas and plans, but none of those were for the ranch. His younger brother, my Uncle Maddox, a cowboy through and through, was pleased to be given the manager’s reins.

Dad had joined Grandpa’s brother in the other family business, commercial real estate and land development. The first Hildebrands in the Dakota Territory were two brothers, both lawyers, who’d decided opportunity was to be had in the Black Hills during the gold rush. They got off the train from Wisconsin, set up an office, and got busy working for the gold mines and the railroads. An immediate success. The Hildebrand name meant something in the Black Hills.

Dad and his cousin, Harold had done well, buying and developing small and large commercial and private ranch properties throughout western South Dakota and over in Wyoming and Montana. The rough pill for Grandpa had transformed into a smooth, sparkly diamond.

And just like his father, Dad had expected his son to work at his side and take over one day. But that wouldn’t ever happen, and I’d played a dark part in that.

Dad had me and Jessa working with him on different small projects over the years. He also had my older cousin, James, an executive VP of H&H alongside his dad. But none of us were Five, and we weren’t ever going to be.

Dad’s pill was acidic and stuck in his throat. Would it ever go down? Would he choke on it? I didn’t want him to, and he was trying real hard not to. Building Powder Ridge would make all that burning stop once and for all. It had to. A new beginning for everyone. A relief. I was committed to making it happen.

Grandpa shot me a sharp look, his lips curling as he slanted his head which meant“you and me, now.”He’d do this all the time when he rode with his boys and later with his grandkids. Whoever got singled out had to race him. It would make Jessa real nervous. It would excite Five’s competitiveness. And me?

I just fucking loved it.

Softening my hands on the reins, I squeezed my legs and heels into Drifter’s side, and he immediately picked up his pace. We moved together, his power under me exhilarating and a touch terrifying. My breath cut, and I grit my teeth. I was out of practice.

Let it go.

Let it go.

I willed my limbs to relax, my brain to focus, and I dove into the horse’s rhythm, the gathering, the releasing. My blood pumped through my veins and my lungs burned as we flew together. I caught up with Grandpa, and we rode side by side.

The ground raced under us. We would take flight any minute now. Pounding hoofbeats filled my ears, and along with them, the thundering beat of my heart.

16

@JustJana

Beck Lanier,missing guitarist for the hot rock band, Freefall, has been seen!

Spotted in the Denver airport, making a connecting flight to L.A. No smiles today. Something’s up for this hottie of rock and roll. Lanier sported a bruised face. Who did Beck get into a fight with? Was it over former love, pop super star, Mae Sullivan or perhaps another woman?

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