Say You Need Me (Knight Falls Ranch #1)

Say You Need Me (Knight Falls Ranch #1)

By Ria Wilde

Chapter 1

I stare at my brother sitting across from me, the skin across my knuckles turning white as I process the words that just came out of his mouth. Surely, I didn’t hear him right. There is no way this is even legal.

“I’m going to need you to repeat that,” I grind out, the tips of my nails biting into my palms, the pain just enough to keep me grounded.

My brother flicks his eyes to me and lets out a long sigh. “You need to get married.”

A humorless laugh erupts from me. This is it; this is the moment I lose my ever-loving mind. “What’s the punchline?”

“It’s not a joke, Roman,” Silas flips the page down and settles his hands on top of the last will and testament of Bennett Knight, our grandfather. “He added a clause.”

My jaw clenches as a heavy silence falls. A clock ticks somewhere in the house, the steady click of its hands vibrating through my skull, a pulse mirroring the frustration rising inside me. Silas shifts in his seat, eyes that match my own watching, waiting me out.

“No,” I growl, getting up so abruptly I jostle the desk, “I’m calling our lawyer to get this fixed.”

“Roman,” Silas remains seated, watching as I pace, “It’s tight, there is no way out of this.”

“What the fuck do you mean I have to get married!?” I explode.

“If you want the ranch, that’s what you need to do.”

You know, I thought I had a good relationship with my grandfather.

We worked this ranch together, built it up, expanded and poured our blood, sweat and tears into this place.

After we lost my mother — his daughter — it became a lifeline.

A place to ease the pain and the grief. She loved this place, probably more than we do, and we used that to fuel its successes.

A big old fuck you to the universe that took her from us.

The plan was always that I would inherit this place after he was gone, it’s what we had worked toward together. This place is in my bones, my fucking DNA, and he knew that!

“And if I don’t?”

Silas adjusts his glasses. “I’ll be named heir.”

I scoff, my blood beginning to boil inside my veins.

My brother doesn’t want this place; he never did.

He has his own problems and his own life to deal with, what with his two kids and the training side of the ranch to look after.

We all grew up here, me and my two brothers, Silas and Remy.

Even though this place is a part of all three of us, ingrained in our core, it has always been me who has treated it as if it were already my own.

My grandfather raised us; he made me who I am, and now he’s just going to take it away?

I knew the old man had a dark sense of humor, but this doesn’t even make sense.

I’ve never been one for relationships, I get my fix when I need it with simple one-night stands and no-name encounters.

It’s how I like it. I don’t have time to build relationships — hell, I don’t even want to, not when I’ve seen firsthand what that shit does to people. Look at Silas.

Look at our mother…

Trusting people enough to get even close to a relationship isn’t something I am willing to put myself through. The only thing I need is Knight Falls Ranch.

“I don’t want it,” Silas stands from his chair, “But there is no loophole I can see here, Roman.”

“I know you don’t fucking want it,” I snap at him and immediately feel shitty. This isn’t his fault, he’s just the bearer of bad news. I need to get the hell out of here, take a minute. I don’t believe my grandfather would leave me no choice; there has to be a way to fix this.

Silas doesn’t stop me from leaving, he simply watches me go, knowing this is how I handle the shit storms that hit our lives. We all have our outs. Remy, the youngest of the three of us, literally packed up and left town to join the rodeo.

I grab my hat and secure it to my head before I head out into the early spring sun, going straight for the barn where Pippin is.

The moment I enter the stables, the painted mare shoves her head over the stable door, dark eyes on me as she flicks her ears.

I run a hand down her muzzle before I get the door open and prepare her for a ride.

Knight Falls Ranch sits on over fifty thousand acres and has been here in Sunstone Ridge, Montana, since the town was founded more than a hundred and sixty years ago.

It’s the largest and oldest farm in a hundred-mile radius and has been home to the Knights for generations.

Without this place, Sunstone Ridge would have become a ghost town like every other town after the Gold Rush.

The bodies of those before me have been buried here, family secrets whispered to the pines and guarded by the mountains that reach toward the sky.

There is no future where this place isn’t mine.

At the northern boundary, the mountains rise, their steep, rugged sides bleeding into thick forests and rolling hills that wrap around the ranch.

This place isn’t just home for horses and cattle, we have at least fifty people working and living here, for years we have offered training facilities for other ranches to come and learn, provide rehab for injured horses, schools for kids to learn this way of life.

Our name is Royalty.

Mounting Pippin, I urge her forward and out of the stables, offering a simple nod to the workers who greet me as I follow the trail toward the mountains and the forest. I could navigate this place with my eyes closed, have walked these trails hundreds of times, sometimes for work, other times to lose myself in the crisp mountain air and escape the weight of my responsibilities.

I remember after my mother passed, I spent a week straight camping out here.

It was the only thing I could do when everything else was out of control.

If I hadn’t done it, I’m not sure I’d be here today.

No, I’d likely be sitting behind iron bars and in an orange jumpsuit with blood on my hands.

Sure, that blood wouldn’t be innocent, but it isn’t what she would have wanted for me.

I was in a dark place then; I still am. Knowing something and not being able to prove it eats at a part of your soul. You go a little crazy and when the questions remain unanswered, you get bitter, resentful of everything and everyone.

The only things I have ever cared about are this ranch and my family. My mother, grandfather and brothers — that’s it and it’s all I need. He knew this too, which makes this marriage clause even more of a joke.

The sound of my horse’s steady pace replaces the thumping of my heart, and I allow the sound to wash through me as we step into the cover of the trees.

The air turns damp with moisture, cooler now I am out of the spring sun, the leaves in the canopy above me turning a neon green as the light attempts to penetrate it.

Slipping deeper into the trees, I allow the silence of the woods to melt away the tension that had tightened my shoulders and neck, hoping it’ll bring me some clarity. A way to fix this.

We take a turn on the trail, following it down to the falls that sit on the property.

The closer I get, the louder the sound of water becomes until it’s a roar that echoes back to me off the side of the mountain.

I come to a stop at the sandy banks, but it isn’t the clear waters, the cascading falls or the way the mountains reflect off the surface that has me pausing.

It’s the woman swimming in the middle of the plunge pool.

That water must be fucking freezing. The sun may be shining, but it’s nowhere near warm enough for wild swimming, let alone in water that is fed from the icy streams that run down the mountainside.

She’s on her back, floating, like she isn’t trespassing on private property, not a single care in the world. I can’t see her face with her being so far out, just the vibrant pink bikini she’s wearing.

Lifting my hand to my mouth, I place my thumb and middle finger between my lips and whistle, the shrill noise cutting through the trees around me. Birds stir and take flight from their perches, rustling the leaves as they flee.

I watch in amusement as the woman startles and goes under, splashing as she tries to right herself and come to the surface.

While she is still too far out to take in her features, I can feel the glare she’s pointing my way.

“This is private land,” I yell to her knowing my voice will carry.

For a few long seconds she treads water, staring at me, but then she turns and starts swimming to the shore.

Following the direction she is heading, I notice her clothes folded on a tree stump and start heading that way.

Pippin walks in the shallow water at the edges of the plunge pool, and by the time I reach the spot, the woman is just about able to stand in the water.

“You’re trespassing,” I tell her.

She flicks her blue eyes to me, glaring from beneath her thick black lashes.

Her dark hair drips water down her body, rolling droplets over firm and tanned skin.

They follow the curves of her shape, over the mounds of her breasts and down her toned thighs.

There are goose bumps all over her, and try as I might, it’s hard not to notice the way her nipples push against the thin material of her bikini top.

There’s no way to deny it, the woman is stunning, with those eyes that almost match the color of the water she just walked out of and plump red lips.

Her gently sloped nose and cheeks are dusted with freckles, a silver hoop glinting in one nostril.

There’s something familiar about her, something I can’t quite place, but I’ve seen her before somewhere.

“You done looking?” She calls me out before she reaches down and snatches her towel from the pile, wrapping it around herself.

I lift my eyes and meet hers. “You’re trespassing.” I repeat.

“Heard you the first time.” Grabbing all her things, she bundles them into her arms and storms off into the woods, following the one trail that leads out to the main road. It’s fenced, which means she would have had to hop over it to get in here.

“You do this a lot,” I accuse, following behind her retreating form. I’ve never noticed her on the property before, but it’s been a busy few months, hell, a busy few years, and I don’t come out here as often as I’d like to anymore.

In answer, she flips me her finger from over her shoulder.

My brows lift, and a chuckle leaves me. It’s not often I find someone so standoffish toward me.

People tend to bend over backwards in our presence; most of the time they wonder what they can get out of me.

It’s why when I need an itch scratching, I go places people don’t know me.

There’s less risk of being recognized, and fewer chances of women wanting more.

“I don’t take kindly to strangers on my property.”

“Call the sheriff,” She calls over her shoulder.

I’m not going to do that, but I do continue to follow her, wanting to know exactly where it is she is coming through.

“Are you going to follow me the entire way?” She comes to a stop and spins on me, eyes sparking. Pippin lowers her face to the woman, and despite the heat pointed in my direction, her hand is soft as she lifts it to stroke the horse.

“Just want to see where you’re coming in and out.” My eyes lick down her again. “What’s your name?”

She scrunches up her nose, “None of your business.”

“You know there are predators out here,” I tell her. “You probably shouldn’t be wandering these parts alone.”

“Save the speech.” She spins back around and resumes walking, and I really have to wonder what I did to piss her off so badly. I don’t even know the woman, and yet she’s acting like I kicked her puppy. It would be refreshing if I weren’t so confused.

“Do I know you?” I ask her.

She shakes her head and continues on, pretending I don’t exist at all.

We make it to the fence, and I can see her truck parked at the side of the road.

She doesn’t look back as she throws her things over it and then climbs it with ease, hopping down on the other side.

Once she’s placed her bag and clothes into the bed of the truck, she climbs in behind the wheel, still soaking wet, and starts the engine.

The damn thing rattles once she gets it going, a large black plume of smoke spitting out from the exhaust.

I watch in somewhat fascination as she hits the gas and peels away, kicking up gravel and dirt as she goes. Pippin startles with it, backing up from the fence, but I can’t help but watch as the truck moves out of view, a frown tugging down my brows.

Shaking my head, I turn back as the dust settles.

Well, at least she provided a momentary distraction from that clause, but I’ve got to face it and fix it before I lose everything I have left.

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