Page 5 of Shared on the Ranch

“Yes!” she cheered loudly, raising it high above her head. She took in the frozen, shocked expressions around her and it made her laugh. Did they not get it? Did they not see how incredibly awesome she was? “All your troubles are over now! You didn’t think I could do it, but I did! Three cheers for Chyanne, let’s hear it, ladies! Hip, hip—”

“What is going on here?” a deep voice boomed.

Instinctively, she dropped the paddle and whirled on her heel. Chyanne prided herself on keeping her emotions off her face. Generally, it was something she was exceptional at. Right now, in this moment, it was a hard fought battle to look nonchalant as she faced the giant who had spoken.

And hewasa giant. Most men were taller than her, but he was easily 6′7 and his body wasmassive. Arms thick as telephone poles and laden with eye-catching, colorful tattoos. She was staring at the fire-breathing dragon coiled around his bicep when he snapped his fingers, forcing her to look at him.

“I asked you a question, little girl.”

Chyanne forgot to be afraid and bristled at both his word choice and his tone. “I may be little, but I’m not afraid of you!”

“She sure doesn’t sound afraid,” another manly voice remarked.

That was when she noticed the giant was flanked on either side by other men. One was the cowboy she’d seen earlier, and the other was looking at the paddle at her feet.

“Where did you get that?” he inquired politely.

She lifted her chin and met his gaze head-on. “I took it.”

“Yes, I gathered that.” His conversational tone took on a bit of an edge. “That wasn’t my question.”

Chyanne, feeling the first fissure in her composure, looked to the girls. One looked squirmy, the brunette was standing with her arms crossed, her expression matter-of-fact. One looked sympathetic, but Betsy looked downright terrified.

“Who is he?” Chyanne mouthed to her.

Betsy answered aloud in a trembling voice, “H-he’s my daddy.”

CHAPTER2

Chandler

Chandler Harding had only been working for Discipline Ranch for three months, and as a rookie, he was still learning the ropes. Still, he’d been there long enough to know that this wasn’t a typical day. The tiny redhead holding the paddle had caused quite a stir.

Betsy was crying and blubbering an explanation to her daddy, Blake, and their boss, Nate, was watching the whole affair with an assessing gaze.

It didn’t look like anyone was in charge of the feisty copper-top, so he folded his large, tattooed arms over his chest and leveled her with his gaze. She’d literally been caught paddle-handed, but even without that piece of evidence, the guilt on her face made it obvious she was the one behind the current shenanigans. Still, he said nothing, sizing her up, letting her squirm.

When he did speak at last, it was in his booming, most authoritative voice. “You wanna tell me what you think you were doin’?”

Oh, she had some fire to go right along with that red hair of hers, he could tell that right off. She was glaring at him through narrowed eyes, completely unaware of the trouble she was in. Or maybe she knew and was giving him the sour puss face anyway.

He’d never tell her, but he respected a woman who stuck by her naughtiness even with the consequences looming. It made her more than a little intriguing, to say the least.

“I was stopping a horrible injustice, from the sound of it.”

He arched a brow, not turning his head even when there was a tittering of conversation behind him.

“Quiet,” his boss, Nate, ordered sharply.

All of the females fell silent once more, causing the one he was watching to shift uneasily. Oh, yeah. She might not have the full picture of what she had done, but it was beginning to take shape for her.

“You have some splainin’ to do, Red,” he drawled.

Her scowl returned full force and her brow furrowed into angry ridges. “My name’s notRed, and I don’t have to tell you shit!”

There was a collective gasp behind him, and Chandler could practically feel the doms on either side of him clench their jaws.

But not him. He tended to stay pretty calm in situations like these. He had his training in the Marines to thank for that. He had continued to hone that skill after his time in the service by becoming a police officer for the last decade. And now, ready for a change in career but not quite ready to retire, he’d found his way to Discipline Ranch.

---