UNTAMED

18. Holden

“It’s like these cowboys haven’t been riding bulls their entire fucking lives,” I grumble. “Jensen! You want me to call your mama out here so she can teach you how to do your damn job?” I holler from my place on the fence, spitting into the dirt.

Jensen slowly rises to his feet, the short cowboy shaking his head. “No, sir. I just went left, and he went right.”

“How am I supposed to sell bulls for riding if my men can’t even stay the fuck on the babies? That steer ain’t even a year old.”

Jensen nods before hanging his head in defeat and walking back to where the chutes are being loaded with another rider.

“Do I need to go over there and give them a first-grade lesson?” I look over at Cash, who hasn’t said more than three words all morning.

Even the way the wind blows is pissing me off right now, and I know it’s because it’s been two nights since I’ve gotten any sleep. My chest and shoulder muscles ache from the push-ups. Last night, I went for a five-mile run at two in the morning, trying to exhaust myself.

I kick at a pile of dried cow shit, debating whether or not to go sit in the truck and try to get a power nap in before all the ranch hands quit on me or I throttle someone. The horses we rode here are tied up to the fence. Maybe I’ll take one for a ride out in the pasture to get some air.

“Old Harry stopped by this morning. Asked me if we’d made a decision on the injections,” Cash says.

“What’d you tell him?”

“We’d be in touch.”

The sun is already high in the sky, nearing noon. It’s still hot as shit in Texas, but it should start cooling off in the evenings in the next few weeks. Sweat drips down the center of my back.

“Buddy of mine in Idaho would probably know something about it if we went up there and asked him. He was one of those science geniuses who got locked up for being way too fucking smart for the government’s comfort.”

Cash squints at me. “Might be worth a visit. Sure you wanna go back there?”

I look out across the ranch at the leaves on the oak trees blowing in the breeze. The idea of walking back into prison, even as a free man, makes my empty stomach churn. I don’t know if I could physically do it.

“It’s either that or we risk calling him. Don’t think this is some shit we should talk about on a recorded line.”

Cash nods. We both turn at the sound of an ATV approaching. The girls are pulling up to the pen, a large picnic basket sitting in Rosie’s lap. Her eyes find mine immediately. She doesn’t smile as she climbs out of the ATV as Dolly puts it into park.

We’re out in the back pasture, two miles from the house. They’re both wearing sundresses that hit mid-thigh on the unseasonably sunny day. Texas weather has no rhyme or reason. Rosie’s dress is a pale green with little white flowers on it. Her sun-kissed shoulders are exposed. Copper strands of hair are lying in messy waves around her shoulders, loose pieces drifting in the gentle breeze.

My eyes take in the rest of her as my mouth waters at more than just the thought of the lunch she’s carrying.

She’s going to be sleeping in my bed tonight, but I can’t lay a hand on her.

I’m not used to having self-control with women. I’ve never had to. I’m not worried that I won’t be able to resist touching her. I’d never do that without her consent. I killed a man for doing that to a woman.

I’m worried I’m going to have another wet dream about her with her sleeping so close to me.

Better than the alternative of not sleeping at all.

I hope.

“You ladies sure are a sight for sore eyes! Damn, I’m starving.” Jensen hops off the fence, grinning widely as he practically skips toward them.

“Get the table off the back of the mule, Jensen,” I order.

He nods, walking toward the back of the ATV to grab the fold-up picnic table. The four other ranch hands start following the girls as they head toward a large tree to serve lunch under the canopy of leaves. The wind picks up, nearly blowing Rosie’s dress all the way up and revealing her ass. She reaches down to grab it, but she can’t do it well while still holding the basket. I curse under my breath, waiting on edge for her to flash the entire group of men. I quicken my steps to catch up to her.

“The fuck are you wearing?” I grab the basket from her so she can properly hold the hem down.

She throws a glare up at me. “Oh, is my outfit an issue now too? Can’t do anything right around here, can I?” Her eyes are bright blue-green in the sunlight. She flips the hem up to reveal tiny white spandex underneath.

“Relax, Rosie. Holden’s been barking at us all morning. You’re just fresh meat.” Cash takes the small ice chest from Dolly.

My sister takes a step toward me. “What’s wrong?”

I open the top of the picnic basket to see what it is. “Starving. What’s for lunch?”

“Nothing for the grouchy, ungrateful asshole,” Rosie snaps.

My eyes slowly rise to meet hers.

Someone needs a good, hard spanking.

Whoa … the fuck did that thought come from?

“Okay, wow. How about I serve lunch? Rosie, will you please get the plates and cups from the mule?” Dolly asks.

Rosie spins around and marches toward where the ATV is parked. Five pairs of hungry eyes follow her, hoping for another gust of wind to pick up.

The thought of firing each and every single one of them all at once filters through my brain, but I close my eyes instead, exhaling slowly. Rosie returns with the plates and cups, depositing them on the table before opening up one compartment on the veggie tray and extracting a handful of baby carrots. She turns toward the horses and makes her way over to them.

You just need to get some sleep. That’s all this is. Your brain can’t form coherent thoughts right now.

“What’s wrong, really? You have been in a god-awful mood lately.” Dolly steps closer to me, her eyebrows pinching together. Her long ebony hair is in a thick braid resting on her bare shoulder.

I sigh, helping her unpack the spread of sandwiches, a fruit salad, individually wrapped brownies, and the veggie tray Rosie already opened.

“Haven’t been sleeping,” I say quietly.

“Is it the stress? I thought Cash said the ranch was doing fine?”

“It’s not that. It’s just … different, being home. I’m not used to it.”

I could tell her about the nightmares and the panic attacks, but there’s nothing she can do about it. I’m handling it.

“Is there anything I can do?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ve got it under control. Thanks for bringing lunch out.”

Dolly nods, handing me a bag of food and nodding toward the horses that Rosie is now petting. “Why don’t you take it somewhere farther away and get a breather this afternoon?”

Cash grabs a sandwich for himself. “We need someone to check the fence on the edge of that pasture on County Road 1592, where those calves got stuck last week.”

Their message is clear. My disposition is shit, and everyone is over it. I nod, grabbing the bag from Dolly.

I watch as Rosie shoves her boot into the stirrup, hauling herself up onto Cash’s horse. The gelding whinnies, nuzzling the back of my mare’s rear end. Queen Liz ignores him, still feasting on the carrots Rosie gave her. Rosie tries steering her horse toward the pasture, but he won’t move.

Neither of us speaks as I mount my horse, looping the handle of the plastic grocery bag around the horn of my saddle before clicking my tongue at the horse.

Cash’s gelding, Trooper, follows Queen Liz wherever she goes. I assume Rosie is aware of this as I steer the mare toward the pasture. Rosie doesn’t say anything. After a few minutes of silent walking, Rosie’s horse steps up closer to mine. She leans down to pet his neck, her hair spilling down past her shoulder and forearm. The copper tones shine brightly in the sunlight, the rich color a shade darker than Queen Liz’s coat.

“He’s obsessed with her,” she notes.

Can’t blame him.

“Queen Liz is the prize,” I tell her, observing her from the corner of my eye.

She looks good, so damn good, on top of that horse. Her sundress is blowing in the wind, wrapping tightly around her curves.

We ride in silence until reaching a patch of ancient oak trees on the fence line. My hands are beginning to shake from my exhaustion, so I pull back on the reins of my horse.

“I’m going to stop and eat,” I tell her.

Rosie nods, not needing to give the command to Trooper, as he follows everything Queen Liz does. She glances back at the group with uncertainty.

I dismount, moving over to Rosie to help her down. She was raised out here as much as Dolly was, so I doubt she needs my help. My Southern roots go too deep not to offer her assistance. My fingers curl around her hip bones, squeezing gently as I guide her safely down to the ground. Her dress rides up slightly, revealing the creamy white skin of her upper thighs.

She turns to look up at me, chewing her bottom lip. “I should get back,” she murmurs, looking around as if just noticing that we’re alone out here.

“Scared to be alone with me, Dixon?”

She sets her jaw, lifting her chin in defiance. “I’m not afraid of you, Redford.” She folds her arms across her chest.

I turn away from her before letting my lips curve into a smile at her words. After grabbing the sack lunch from my saddle, I collapse at the base of a tree, leaning back against the trunk. Rosie stands, aloof, petting Trooper before moving to give Queen Liz some attention.

My fingers reach for the sandwich in my bag. I need protein for energy to get through the rest of this day. I bite into it, chewing mindlessly as my eyes trail over her hips and ass, absently admiring her shape. She turns to approach me, observing the rough ground around me.

“Why can’t you sleep?” she asks.

I look up at her through half-lidded eyes, my vision blurred. Telling my family about my issues feels impossible, but Rosie isn’t a part of the family. She’s strangely easy to talk to.

“Never slept well in prison. It was ice cold. Solitary confinement felt like being on another planet, completely isolated.”

I have no idea why I’m opening up to her, except that my guard is down with how physically and emotionally weak I feel. She disarms me somehow.

“Why were you in solitary confinement?” she asks quietly.

I tear the ham sandwich in half, handing her a piece of it.

“Fighting,” I murmur, battling the urge to let my heavy eyes close.

Her soft voice and gentle presence draw a blanket of peace over my tingling limbs.

She lounges beside me quietly, the gentle breeze blowing her hair.

Why the fuck are you opening up to her?

I drift in and out of sleep for several minutes. Every time I manage to open my eyes, I force myself to take a bite of the sandwich. Rosie sits quietly beside me, observing the leaves dancing in the breeze. Her even breathing brings a sense of calm over my shattered nerves.

Tonight. I’ll get some sleep tonight, with her.

Finally, I slap my thigh to wake myself, rising suddenly. “I need to check the fence. You should get back.”

Holden

Be here at 9.

I look at my phone,watching the message I sent to Rosie shoot through the universe. I’m lying in bed, showered and nearly drifting to sleep as I sit up against the pillows. It’s only eight fifteen. The TV mounted on the wall is playing an old John Wayne movie, McLintock! I’m so exhausted, my vision is blurry. I can barely make out the scene.

Rosie

What am I supposed to tell Dolly?

Holden

Tell her you’re trying out all the brothers to see which one’s the best ride.

Rosie

Ha-ha. I’m serious. She’ll obviously have questions if she realizes I slept over. She might bring it up to Duke.

I tap on the handle of my knife, mentally debating the issue. This is just one of several times I’ve seriously considered building my own ranch house somewhere else on the property. Even though Rosie and I won’t be doing anything other than sleeping, it’s past time for me to have my own place. I’m almost thirty years old.

Eventually, I’ll be making some girl scream my name, which would be quite disturbing for my family to witness.

Cash and Sterling have been living in the bunkhouse that neighbors the main house for years, since before I was locked up. It’s a two-bedroom, two-bath, so there isn’t room for me. It makes more sense for everyone to live on-site while we all work here. We start early, and we end late most days. We work a ton of weekends. No one wants to pay rent on a shitty apartment just to drive back here every day.

Duke was only eighteen when I was locked up. I don’t know why he’s still living at home, except that he hasn’t figured his shit out and doesn’t have a clue what he wants in life.

Dolly is sick. Her heart condition is something she can fully function with, but living completely on her own makes us all nervous. I don’t think she’d admit it, but she’s afraid to be by herself. She never has been.

Before I was charged and sentenced, my plan was to stay here to take care of the ranch, Pops, and Dolly. I was fine with hooking up with women in the barn or in the hunting cabin, which is miles away but still on the property.

Holden

Guess I’m unlocking the window. Did the mayor’s sweet little girl ever learn to sneak out?

Rosie

Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m on my way.

I put the knife inside the nightstand drawer. It would be a shame to accidentally slit her pretty throat if I woke up and thought I was back in prison like I had the other morning.

The day was wrought with stress and men tempting me to end up back in prison. Jensen joked with the group of cowboys about an old bet they’d had going around years ago—that whoever took Rosie Dixon’s virginity would get her initials branded on his chest as a reward, a forever reminder that he fucked her first.

The temptation to fire him on the spot was so great that Cash had to physically hold me back and remind me that he’s our only reliable hand at the moment. The little fucker had been begging for a fist to be planted in his jugular.

My boxers are all I’m sleeping in. She’ll just have to deal with it if it bothers her. I move to the window, unlatching it and continuing to wait on her.

After what happened this afternoon at the picnic, I was nervous she wasn’t going to come, forcing me to go pick up another woman at the bar to sleep with. For some reason, sex with a stranger doesn’t have the same appeal it once did. The blonde I brought home last week was ready and willing, but the way she made it so easy was a turnoff.

Sure, that’s why you turned it down.

A tapping sound on the window draws my attention. I move over to it, brushing the curtain back to see Rosie with a black hoodie over her head. The window creaks loudly as I slide it up.

“Did you rob a 7-Eleven on the way here?”

“I didn’t want anyone to see me!” she whisper-yells, climbing through the low opening with a backpack on.

“Damn right, you don’t. They’d probably shoot you, thinking you’re a thief.”

Once she’s all the way through, I shut and lock the window, brushing the curtains back in place. When I turn around, she’s standing in the center of the room, hoodie still on. She looks like a rabbit caught in a trap.

“So, who’s sleeping on the floor?” she asks.

I raise a brow. “Not me. Don’t know why you would either. Bed is plenty big enough for two.”

I fall into it, exhaling as her mere presence draws a sense of calm over my exhausted body. Now that she’s here, I know I can sleep. I’ll be able to rest without panicking—at least for tonight.

She lingers at the foot of the bed. I watch John Wayne yell at his wife on the screen for another few minutes before turning to her.

“What are you so afraid of, Dixon?”

“I could ask you the same, Redford.”

Someone still needs a good spanking—that’s for damn sure.

“I put the knife in the drawer. Did you bring your pen?” I hold back a smirk, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much I fucking love bantering with her.

My eyes travel back to the TV. After a few beats of me pretending to ignore her, she finally inches closer to the bed.

She exhales decisively. “Listen, I am physically incapable of sleeping in a bra. I know that sounds made up, but I’m serious. It itches, and it sticks into my ribs in a bunch of weird places. I have to take it off.”

“Who are you talking to?” I turn to her, schooling my expression into mock disinterest.

She rolls her eyes, marching toward the bathroom. “I just didn’t want you to take this the wrong way.”

As soon as her back is turned to me, I break into a much-needed smile. Dixon is fucking hilarious, and she’s not even trying.

Lack of sleep must be making me delirious.

After a few minutes, I hear the water running, the toilet flush, and the door open.

I don’t acknowledge her. My eyes are half lidded, and I’m struggling to stay awake. Part of me needs to confirm that she really is going to keep up her end of the bargain and actually sleep in my bed. She could try sneaking out, slithering off to Duke’s room for all I know. I force myself to watch the movie until she gets into bed.

“Do you normally sleep with the TV on?” she asks.

I blink, facing her. “No.”

She’s wearing a loose pink tank top with tiny, silky shorts that look just like the pink ones, but these are white with yellow hearts on them. They are so fucking short.

“I can’t sleep in pants either,” she mumbles, quickly crawling into bed and under the covers.

I try to ignore the way her nipples are clearly outlined under the thin tank top, but, holy fuck,it’s hard. Blood rushes to my lower half, so I turn to lie on my stomach, stretching my arm around my pillow.

No touching. There’s only one rule, and it’s no touching allowed.

This is going to be a long night.