Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
M onday night, Ryland showed up at the ranch alongside their cousin, Cole. Benton was glad for it; they would be moving cattle to different pastures over the next few days and could use the help. As it was, the three men were up until the early morning hours, telling stories and sharing a bottle of Jack.
Already up and showered by five a.m. Tuesday morning, Benton grinned when Ryland appeared in the kitchen.
“Here.” He handed his youngest sibling a cup of black coffee.
“Shit,” Ry said, making a face. “No sugar?”
“You know where everything is. I’ve also rustled up some bacon and eggs. You might want to eat. It will be a while before Decker has the chuck wagon set up.”
“It’s too early to eat.” Ryland gulped his coffee, eyes still full of sleep.
Cole walked into the kitchen and helped himself to a thermos, then filled it to the brim. “We ready?” he asked.
“Let’s get at it,” Benton responded.
“Jesus, let me brush my teeth and pull on some old clothes.” Ryland ran his hands over the hair on his jaw. The kid was growing up. No doubt about it.
“Get dressed.” Benton grinned. “I’ll see you out at the barn. And Ry, I’ll do you a favor and saddle up your horse.”
“Thanks.” The one-word answer was heavy on sarcasm. His brother cracked his neck. “Whose watching, Nora?”
“Rosie will be by within the hour, and Millie Sue is picking her up later for a sleepover.” He looked at the men. “Let’s do this.”
There was something calm about riding out with the sun peeking over the mountains. It was the quiet and the serenity. The sound of birds calling from the trees, and cows saying hello in the distance. The boys enjoyed it for as long as they could, and hours later, when they finally reached pasture three, they got down to business.
It was a long, dusty day, spent moving cattle from their current pasture to another one farther north. Rotating pastures was necessary because of overgrazing. The plan was to camp overnight, then head back and move the rest up to a second pasture located west of their location. It was hard work, spending the day in the saddle, eating crap and inhaling dust, but Benton loved every minute of it.
The Triple B was in his blood, and he’d die here. Be buried alongside his forefathers, there in the grove up past the creek, about a mile from the main house.
He closed the gate and headed for camp.
Decker had the chuckwagon up and running, and the boys gathered around, filling bowls with hot chili while grabbing big chunks of bread and cold thermoses of water. Benton didn’t allow booze when working and had fired cowhands who’d made the mistake of thinking it was a soft rule.
He took a seat and dug into his food, eyes on Colton. “How does it feel being a real cowboy?” His cousin’s spread in Texas was at one time one of the largest outfits in the state. But mismanagement, a recession or two, not to mention family squabbling, had led to its near demise. Colton’s father had gone a long way in rescuing the place, and though it was much smaller, it still took a lot to run. They turned a healthy profit on account of their extensive horse breeding program. Cole was a large part of it. The man knew horses better than anyone Benton knew, save maybe Dallas.
“I think I broke my back,” Cole replied with a grin. “But it feels good. I forgot how much I like Montana.”
“It’s a lot different than Texas, that’s for sure.” Benton’s gaze wandered and stopped when he spied Ryland chatting with Haimish. The two of them were close in age, with Haimish pushing twenty-two and Ryland staring down twenty.
“How’d he like Texas?”
“He seemed to like it. Met up with some of his pals who already did their first year at A no court in the nation will let her take Nora away from you.” Colton leaned forward. “So why do you think she’s pressing the issue?”
“Who the hell knows?” He grimaced and tossed the leftovers in his bowl.
“Maybe she wants to get back together and feels this is the only way to make it happen.”
“Her and I…” He sighed and shook his head. “We don’t work. And maybe one time, I wanted her to make things right. Get healthy so we could be a family, but now…” He clamped his mouth shut and looked away. What the hell? He was sharing stuff he hadn’t had the time to properly process.
“Now?”
“Come on, Cole. Do you want to hold my hand while I confess my feelings?”
“No.” Colton grinned. “I want you to tell me about this woman that’s got you tied up like a damn teenager on prom night.”
“There’s no woman,” he shot back.
“That’s not what I’m hearing.”
He turned to his cousin and frowned. “That the fuck does that mean?”
“Just something in the group chat.”
“What group chat?”
Colton swore and shrugged. “We have a group chat. Started it when you had your accident a couple of years back.”
“Who exactly are we talking about?”
“Well, me, Cal, Viv, and Scarlett.”
“That it?”
A pained expression crossed his cousin’s face. “Ivy and Mike Paul. Dallas and Taz. Millie Sue.”
“So, pretty much my entire family.”
“I guess so.”
Benton didn’t quite know what to say to that. “You started it when I was in the hospital. I get that. But why in hell are you talking about me now?”
“We’re not.” Colton shrugged. “Not really. That chat goes months without anyone posting. Besides, you never answer your phone anyway, so why do you care?”
“I care when you’re all discussing my personal life. Me and Collins are none of your business.” Shit. Why’d he have to go and say her name?
His cousin’s face lit up like he was a damn Christmas tree. “So you and Collins Lafferty are a thing? I thought it was horseshit.” He didn’t bother to hide his shock, and like it or not, that bothered Benton.
He took a beat, got his blood pressure down, then shrugged. “I don’t know what we are. Can we leave it at that?”
Colton looked like he wanted to say more, but must have realized it was a losing battle and gave in. “Yeah.”
Bent got to his feet. “I’m gonna get some sleep. Tomorrow won’t be a picnic.”
He wasn’t wrong. Wednesday seemed harder and longer. By the time the boys moved all the cattle and pulled up to the Triple B, it was nearly midnight. Benton and the rest of them were bone ass tired, but they all took the time to look after their horses before heading up to the house. Once there, he hopped in the shower and twenty minutes later was asleep.
The phone woke him on Thursday morning when Millie Sue called to let him know that Scarlett and Taz had taken Nora back to their place. Their twins were begging for a sleepover, and they’d bring Nora home to the ranch Friday evening. It left a big gap in his evening, and Benton had never liked the quiet. Gave him too much room to think.
“You sure you don’t want to come to town with us?” Ryland sat down and pulled on his boots.
“I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on.”
“Paperwork can wait, can’t it?”
“Sure it can,” Cole said, standing just inside the office. “He’s just chicken, is all.”
“Chicken?” Ryland stood and flexed his arms. The kid had mostly grown into his frame and would be impressive when he filled out. As his mama used to say, ‘We build the Bridgestones big.’
“What are you afraid of?” Confused, his brother looked from Cole to Benton, and then back again.
“Nothing,” Benton scowled. “Cole likes to stir things up.”
His cousin flashed a grin. “Look, we just worked out tails off for two days. The Sundowner has the best chicken wings in the county, and I hear the band that’s playing tonight is pretty good. The singer is someone you know.”
“Cal’s on stage?” Benton asked, surprised.
“Yep. He and Millie Sue are gonna do a set. Try out some new material. It would be a shame for you to miss it all because of some?—”
“Shut it.” He aimed the barb at Cole.
“I’m just saying if your situation is all good, why avoid town?”
Ryland shook his head. “I have no idea what you two are talking about, but I’ll get the truck and bring it up front.” The boy wasn’t legal yet, but he made for a good driver.
Colton waited until his younger cousin disappeared before turning back to Bent. “I’m not trying to be an asshole.
“Try harder.”
“What are you afraid of? Collins? A good time? Happiness?” He stepped back. “Life’s too short, Bent. Christ, pull that stick out of your butt.”
Colton disappeared, and Benton heaved a sigh. He tossed the pen in his hand and wheeled around to face the window. Maybe Collins was gone. She’d made no effort to contact him, and he did not doubt that she was capable of doing so if she wanted to.
“Why do I care?” he muttered. What is it about her?
He spied Ryland pull up in one of the ranch trucks. The kid honked the horn, obviously impatient, and heard the front door slam behind. A heartbeat passed.
Fuck it, he thought, getting to his feet. He yanked on the brim of his ballcap, grabbed his wallet from the hall table, and headed outside. The truck was just pulling away but stopped when Colton leaned his head out of the window. Bent held up one hand, his meaning clear, and crawled into the back.
Thankfully, the ride was mostly silent, save for the radio that blasted the latest country tunes, including one from his brother, Cal.
Bent relaxed. It would be good to see him and Millie Sue on stage at the Sundowner. The place had brought the two of them full circle and he was damn glad for it. Besides, he wasn’t a fucking chickenshit. His eyes shot bullets at the back of Cole’s head.
The lot was packed, but Ryland pulled around back to the staff parking, and the three men headed inside via the kitchen.
“Hey boys.” Bobby, one of the line cooks, gave a wave. “It’s hopping tonight.”
Ryland stopped to chat with the young man while Colton followed Benton into the main room. Benton whistled. Bobby was right. It was standing room only. The band hadn’t hit the stage yet, and he figured he had some time to grab a drink before they did. He nodded to folks he knew and carefully picked his way through the throngs of bodies, the bar on the opposite end his target.
He was nearly there too, when he spied her. Long hair. Pillow-soft lips. Tight white tank top. She was smiling at a group of men while pouring shots.
“She took a job. Officially started last night.” Colton cleared his throat.
Son of a bitch. He thought she was playing with him the last time he’d been here. What the hell did a fancy model know about slinging beer?
“You knew she was working here?” He asked the question, but couldn’t take his eyes off Collins. Already, his body was reacting. He was hot and tight and fucking furious.
“I saw something in the group chat.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“You never asked.”
“Fuck you.”
Colton grinned. Not the reaction he wanted. His cousin leaned in close. “She’s something else. I get it now.”
Benton shoved past him and walked up to the bar. He elbowed his way past a pack of men, all of them waiting for Collins. All of them begging for a fist to the gut.
If he was thinking of causing violence. Which he wasn’t.
He pushed past the last one, Greg Mayer, and nailed Collins with a look that would intimidate any of the men here. But not her. She slowly smiled and Greg damn near lost his shit.
“Sweet Jesus, but you’re about the most beautiful thing I ever saw.”
Collins and Benton ignored Greg. Her eyes were only for Bent.
“Hey,” she said softly, a slow smile curving a mouth he wished he could forget. Every single man in her orbit was hyper-focused on Collins. And he wanted to throat punch every one of them.
“Hey, yourself.” He was gruff, but her smile deepened despite it. “I’ll take a whiskey, neat.”
Guess he was going to find out if coming to town was a bad idea after all.