Page 3 of The Untamed

He may annoy me every day, all day, but the thought of losing him forever makes my blood run cold in my veins. A ball of emotion forms in my throat. It takes a lot to make me cry. I especially never cry when it comes to Ryder. So why do I feel like I might burst into tears any second.

Ugh.

Screw Ryder. He’s probably fine and I’m worrying over nothing. Tomorrow he’ll be back to bothering me like usual. In the meantime, I’ll do what I always do when I need cheering up.

I’ll go see Ronan.

The gate to our three-acre homestead stands wide open, which means Ryder’s around here somewhere. I quickly scan our fenced-in land, pausing to admire our home. Everyone, over the years, has pitched in to make this place pretty spectacular.

Straight forward, the circular firepit is the focal point. Dad and Ryder spend a lot of time handcrafting the wood bench seating into two C shapes with the pit in the center. The details they put on the woodwork are intricate and impressive.

To the right, the massive equipment barn looms as the largest structure aside from the big house. Dad stores in it all the machinery he needs for building and keeping this place going. He also keeps the riding mower and extra gasoline there. The large garage bay is closed, which means no one’s using any of the machines today.

In front of the equipment barn is a small smokehouse where Dad smokes any fish or game we kill. Beside that is his workshop where he welds or builds furniture. Out in front of the workshop is a play area for the kids, including a treehouse that me, Ronan, and Ryder hung out in a lot of time up until they got their own cabins. Dad spends a lot of time in the workshop as the little kids love playing on the swing set or in the treehouse while he works.

At the far-right corner, there’s a goat house with a chicken coup to its left, both complete with their own pens, and a small man-made pond behind them. The ponds on our property have been here for as long as I remember. Uncle Atticus and Dad made them not long after they built the big house.

The big house runs from near the chickens all the way along the south fence to the orchard that sits on the west end of the homestead. Behind the house is a root cellar and kitchen greenhouse, the big playground for the kids, and several clotheslines where Mom can do laundry while keeping an eye on the littles.

Our orchard is one of the best places to disappear to when avoiding chores. You can sit under the shade of an apple tree and eat your belly full until you’re bursting.

On the northeast corner is the food jungle. Really, it’s just two large sections of grains with several thinner rows of small fruits and another section for all the vegetables. There are small ponds near both the orchard and the food jungle that allow us to easily water the vegetation.

And finally, to my left, on the north side between the food jungle and the gate, are the two neighboring cabins that belong to Ryder and Ronan.

It really is beautiful here.

I should probably go to Ryder and maybe apologize for giving him a hard time, but I don’t exactly want to. He’s probably sitting in his hammock in his little house, playing his guitar, and sulking. As much as I love hearing him strum and make music, I’d rather see Ronan.

Ronan’s my best friend in the whole world.

I set off on the path toward the twin cabins. All three of my older brothers have their own homes. It’s not fair. Dad says it’s because when a man turns eighteen, they should have their own home so they can start making a life of their own. Rowdy lives in the old cabin by the river. When Ronan and Ryder each turned sixteen, we all pitched in to help build them their own places.

Sixteen and seventeen came and went for me.

Still no home.

Heck, I can’t even go up on the roof alone to have three seconds of peace without the whole family losing their minds with worry. I’m fragile and something that always needs protecting according to them.

All thoughts of our property and its beauty turn dark.

It’s so unfair. It’s probably because I’m a girl and my parents think I need extra protecting. My mood sours considerably by the time I reach Ronan’s porch. Since both his and Ryder’s houses are next to the food jungle and on the north side of our property, it allows them the privacy I don’t have being that I share a room with my fourteen-year-old sister Destiny at the big house.

I start to knock on Ronan’s door but remember I don’t have to. Only Ryder demands we knock before entering. God, he’s so weird. The front door creaks open and my gaze sweeps over the small space. His room smells like peaches and cinnamon. My stomach growls for a snack, though dinner will be ready at dusk, which will be soon.

“Hey,” I grumble in greeting, pushing the door closed behind me.

Ronan lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading. I’m immediately warmed by his welcoming, brown-eyed stare. His glasses are slightly askew and I can’t help but grin back at him.

“Uh-oh,” he says, setting the book on the end table and patting the bed beside him. “What’d he do now?”

The fact Ronan knows me like no one else does fills me with pleasure. I untie my boots, pull them off, and then pad across his wood floors to his bed. He studies me as I climb into bed next to him.

This is where I want to be.

Not sharing a room with Destiny, but sharing one with my best friend. My favorite sibling. My Ronan.

“Can I come live with you?” I blurt out.

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