9. Mollie
CHAPTER 9
Mollie
HUMP DAY
Is he going to push me?
That’s my first thought as I peer over the edge of the cliff.
My second: Should I push him first?
The drop looks bigger than twenty feet. My vision wavers, heart going wild inside my chest.
I venture a glance at Cash. He’s frowning at his old-school walkie-talkie, his horse’s reins in his free hand.
I look back over the cliff. The river meanders quietly below. It’s beautiful, bigger, and more impressive than I’d imagined. It winds like a thick, rippling rope through the rugged countryside, cutting a path lined with gently rolling hills in some spots, sheer cliffs like this one in others. Its surface glints in the sun, so bright I have to hold up a hand to shade my eyes against the glare.
It’s like something out of a movie.
Something that’s not quite as picturesque? The look on Cash’s face. Forget manslaughter. The angry, liquid gleam in his eyes, the hard set of his scruffy jaw—that’s pure murder right there.
Even now, a handful of minutes after I accidentally let Maria loose, I wince at my stupidity. Cash is so cool and calm and, yeah, fucking hot doing cowboy-type things.
Meanwhile, I’m a hot freaking mess. Literally. I think I’ve sweated through every article of clothing on my body. Socks and bra included.
I know Maria getting loose is not my fault. Not really. I didn’t know to hold her reins. But I’m mortified nonetheless. Cash has spent the last few minutes hollering into that walkie-talkie, clearly stressed.
Goody and Maria have yet to resurface.
Taking a deep breath, I move closer to the edge. Try to think about Dad instead of the idiot mistake I just made.
But my relationship with Dad—wasn’t that another idiot mistake of mine?
“Too close,” Cash barks, making me startle. “So help me God, if I have to go down there after you?—”
“Sorry, sorry.” I step back, arms crossed. “This is beautiful. I get why Dad liked it out here.”
That makes Cash’s expression soften ever so slightly. “The water comes down from the mountains, so it’s cold. He liked to fish after the day was done. Great way to cool down. Get your head screwed on straight.”
I remember Dad and me taking off our shoes on the bank and putting our toes in the water. It was cold. He’d laughed as I screamed about it while splashing around in the water anyway. After a while, I watched him show me how to hook bait and cast a line in the river. I remember feeling…giddy. Happy. Like there was nowhere else on earth I’d rather be.
Usually, it’s my stomach that hurts. But right now, my chest aches more than anything. The kind of ache that spreads upward, making my throat tight.
I’m angry at Dad for not making more memories like that with me. I’m angry at myself for not opening up to him more. For not asking for what I needed from him, other than money .
So much freaking anger . Predictably, my eyes well with tears.
The crackle of the walkie-talkie yanks me back into the heat and the humiliation of the present.
“Goody just called in.” The voice sounds like it belongs to Sally. “She’s got Maria, and everyone is peachy keen. But she had something come up at work, so she had to run. Y’all are gonna have to get back on your own.”
Cash’s head falls back, baring the thick sinews of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow.
The man can be a grade-A asshole. But right now, I feel kinda bad for him. From my limited observation, Cash really is the go-to guy here on the ranch. People come to him with problems, and he always has a solution. I imagine that kind of responsibility, the constant barrage of interruptions, is a heavy weight to carry.
Last thing he needs is one more problem. But here I am, one gigantic pain in the ass wrapped up in a purple bow.
You’re human. You’re allowed to make mistakes. I repeat my therapist’s refrain in my head.
And then I remind myself that pain in the ass or not, I’m the one Dad left the ranch to. I need this money to keep the company I’ve poured my heart and soul into in business. I have every right to be here.
Just like Cash has every right to be pissed off.
After a beat, he lifts his head and brings the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “No one can come get us?”
“We’re tied up. Ella refused to nap, so Sawyer had to go back to the house. We’re one cowboy short and can’t spare another.”
Cash shakes his head. “Of course we are. All right, we’ll head back now.”
My stomach flips. What does this mean? Are we walking back? Glancing across the hills, I don’t see the barn or the house. We’re far out .
Cash shoves the walkie-talkie back into his saddlebag. Then he checks the thick leather strap that goes around the horse’s belly.
My stomach flips again. Oh, no.
No-no-no.
“Tour’s cut short,” he says. “With two of us on one horse, it’s gonna take us a while to get back. Let’s go.”
My heart pings around my chest like a panicked pinball. “The horse can carry both of us?”
Cash isn’t wearing sunglasses, so I can see the skin crinkle at the edges of his eyes when he squints at me and says, “He don’t have much choice, does he?”
“I’ll walk.”
“You won’t make it a quarter mile in those boots.” He holds out a hand. “Don’t forget the snakes.”
“Exactly how many fanged animals are out here? How are any of y’all still alive?”
His lips twitch, curling into a handsome smirk that makes my stomach flip for an entirely different reason. “Decades of experience. Dumb luck. Let’s go.”
Turning my head, I get one last glimpse of the river. Dad, if you’re out there, please help me survive this.
I take a deep breath and head for Cash and his waiting horse. “You pick a black horse to match your soul?”
“You wanna know if I ride like the devil?” He shifts, angling his hips toward me. “Get in the saddle and find out. Grab the reins in your left hand, then put that hand on the pommel.”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” Rolling my eyes, I do as he tells me. “Something tells me Satan’s got nothing on you.”
“Aren’t you lucky, then? Now put your other hand on the back of the saddle and bend your left knee.” Cash squats and grabs my leg, one hand on my knee, the other on my ankle. I’m suddenly aware of my body, how hot I am, the bloom of electricity inside my skin. His grip is gentle but firm. Confident. “ I’m gonna give you a leg up. When I lift you, swing your other leg over the saddle. I got the rest. On the count of three, I’ll lift.”
My brain is short-circuiting. Maybe that’s why I can only stand there, frozen with one knee bent, as Cash counts to three.
I yelp when he lifts my leg, using it as a springboard to launch my body onto the horse. I manage to toss my other leg over the horse’s side, and then I land with a thump in the saddle.
It’s almost like I’ve done this before.
I have done this before. But it’s been twenty years. No way muscle memory lasts that long, right?
I feel very, very high up. Cash’s horse is taller than Maria. He nickers softly beneath me.
Cash’s hand is on my calf now, guiding my boot into the stirrup with brute efficiency.
I’m on fire. Help. “You can’t manhandle me like this.”
“Watch me, City Girl. Scoot forward. Even more. Jesus, Mollie.” He puts his hands on my hips and yanks me toward the pommel. “There.”
Then he’s somehow climbing onto the horse behind me without any assistance at all. He doesn’t even use a stirrup.
Only when he lands on the horse’s back behind the saddle do I realize just how close we’re going to be on this ride.
Very, very close.
I can’t breathe. Can’t think. I can only feel the press of his chest against my back. His thighs bracket mine, my backside tucked neatly into the cradle of his pelvis. He wraps his arms around me, reins in hand.
Cash is literally plastered against me from shoulders to shoes.
He doesn’t hesitate as he clicks his tongue, urging the horse forward. Doesn’t attempt gentleness. He is pure practicality, all firmness and confidence. If I’m being honest, his lack of pretense is…obscenely sexy.
It does not help that the center seam of my pants presses against the pommel with the horse’s every step, hitting me right where I don’t want it to.
I stiffen, squeezing my eyes shut. I really hope I don’t burst into flames. Or faint. Or have dreams tonight about fucking the inconveniently gorgeous cowboy behind me who also happens to be an absolute jerk-off.
“You gotta move with the horse.” Cash nudges my backside with his pelvis. “Otherwise, you’re gonna end up getting hurt.”
It’s all I can do not to sputter as he rolls his hips, urging me to roll mine too. My scalp prickles as a wave of unwelcome desire moves through me. “Um. Ahem. I…feel like I’m humping the horse while you’re humping me.”
“No humping. Only riding.”
I hear the smirk in his voice. He rolls his hips again.
I roll mine, too, if only to lessen the intensity of the contact. “You know you’re a walking, talking sexual harassment suit.”
“I’m the guy keeping you in the saddle. Best mind your mouth.” He clicks his tongue again, and the horse picks up pace.
I don’t know who I’m riding anymore—the horse or the cowboy.
“You’d better mind your…your…”
“My what, City Girl?”
“Don’t call me—oooh!” I tilt to the side when the horse hits a divot.
Cash immediately rights me, grabbing my hand and putting it on the pommel. “Hold on tight. Tighter. Both hands. Squeeze, Mollie. Come on.”
“Do you not hear yourself?” I’m starting to panic. We’re moving so fast, and I’m so uncomfortably hot and flustered, I’m worried I really will faint.
“You’re not gonna fall.”
“Famous last words.”
Cash pulls on the reins, and the horse slows. “You all right?”
“Nope.” I swallow. “But this is better.”
“That’s because you’re doing better. Look, you’re moving with the horse now.”
I didn’t realize it was happening until I look down and see my body undulating in time to the horse’s stride.
“Maybe you are Garrett’s daughter after all,” Cash says with a chuckle. “Man could ride like nobody’s business.”
My heart spasms. Cash saw a piece of Dad that I never truly got the chance to know. The guilt I’ve been carrying around for the past three months—the regret—presses down on my breastbone.
At the same time, my pulse flutters at the fact that Cash is actually complimenting me. In a backhanded way, sure. But my chest hurts a little less at the idea I’m at all like the man I came from.
I’m undulating in time to Cash’s body too. Maybe that’s why, desperate for a distraction, I blurt, “Y’all were close. You and my dad.”
“We were.”
“Twelve years y’all worked together?”
“Yes.”
“What was that like?”
Cash’s chest presses into my shoulder blades as he inhales. “Garrett was a great boss. Great friend. Treated us fairly and with more kindness than we deserved. Most of what I know, I learned from him.”
I swallow the sudden thickness in my throat. I like hearing that Dad was good to his people. But that makes me wonder why he wasn’t all that good to me .
“How’d you end up on Lucky Ranch anyway?” I ask.
Another inhale. “After my parents died, we didn’t have the money to maintain Rivers Ranch. I was nineteen with four brothers to look after. Garrett took us under his wing, offered us jobs and a place to stay so we could rent out the house on my family’s land for extra income. Been here ever since.”
“Wow.” I swallow again, my eyes burning. “That must’ve been a lot for you.”
“Wasn’t fun. My parents were hell-bent on me being the first Rivers to go to college, but I had to drop out my sophomore year.”
My chest clenches. “That sucks.”
“We made out all right.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Is Grumpy Cowboy here a secret optimist? And really, how did he survive losing his parents? How did he not crumple when, at nineteen, he was faced with the huge responsibility of raising his brothers?
How did he feel, having to give up on his parents’ dreams? What about his dreams?
Why the hell do I care about any of this?
“Your dad”—Cash urges the horse into a trot—“he was a huge help. The five of us kept him busy.”
Too busy to take an interest in his daughter?
I blink, hard, and look out over the hills. The light has taken on an orange tinge. Nighttime, and the cooler temperatures it brings, is blessedly within sight.
This has been the longest day ever.
My insides feel mushy and sore. And my outsides—ugh, why am I not more grossed out by the way my sweaty shirt sticks to Cash’s?
“That’s why he’d theoretically leave you the ranch.” Anger feels safe. These mushy things do not. “Because you were like a son to him.”
Cash goes rigid behind me. “I don’t know what I was to Garrett. But he was a father figure to me. Showed up when I really needed one.” A pause. “I loved him.”
More anger. The burn in my eyes becomes unbearable. “I loved him too.”
Another pause.
“Losing a parent—I think that’s the suckiest thing of all the sucky shit I’ve been through.”
Cash would know. If what he’s saying is true, he’s lost every parent he’s ever known.
Doesn’t make my pain any less real. But it does put it in perspective. This guy has been through it . How can a person withstand so much and not collapse?
“It is pretty sucky, yeah.” I lift my shoulder to wipe my eyes on my shirt. “To be fair, I don’t have any siblings to worry about.”
“I wish I could say it got better. The grief.”
I laugh, the sound mirthless. “Aren’t you a barrel of monkeys.”
“You want me to lie to you?”
“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know.” I look down at his feet, my chest clenching. “Those are Dad’s boots, aren’t they?”
“How’d you know?”
“I remember them. He kept his things forever.”
And Cash is forever wearing these boots. Does he wear them to honor Dad? Keep his memory alive?
If I’m being honest, I don’t hate either of those ideas.
Cash chuckles. “Never met someone who hated shopping more.”
“No wonder he and my mom didn’t make it.”
Cash doesn’t say anything. My face burns. I don’t know why I’m sharing so much. Maybe the steady motion of the horse, combined with being wrapped up in Cash’s big body, has lulled me into a false sense of safety.
“Garrett gave the boots to me for my thirtieth birthday. Said they were a present from your mom for his thirtieth,” Cash says after several uncomfortable beats of silence.
“That’s something she’d buy him, yeah.”
“Relationships ain’t easy. Your dad—he had a lot of regrets.”
My pulse lurches. Cash keeps throwing me bones, and I’m not sure why. Is it some kind of distraction tactic? Or is he making me trust him so he can strike while my guard is down?
“And he shared those regrets with you?”
“Sometimes. Days are long on the ranch. Gets lonely. As I got older, Garrett opened up. You and your mama, y’all were a big part of his story.”
I scoff, mostly because I’m worried I’ll burst into tears if I don’t. “Didn’t feel that way to me.”
“He talked about you.” Cash shifts in the saddle. “A lot.”
“Now you’re lying.”
“I’m many things, City Girl, but a liar ain’t one of ’em.”
“Stop with the City Girl.”
“Then stop with the City Girl bullshit. You wanna be a rancher, act like one.”
I whip my head around, the brim of my hat catching on his. “I don’t want to be a rancher. This life—it was never ever on my radar. I’m just here?—”
“For the money.” His blue eyes bore into mine. It takes every ounce of self-possession I have not to look away, our faces inches apart. “Now tell me I’m lying.”
Why not tell him the truth? So what if it makes him hate me more than he already does? Maybe he’ll quit and solve that conundrum for me. Or at least keep his distance.
“The money’s part of it, yeah. But since you’re all about honesty, tell me I’m lying when I say that’s why you want the ranch too. For the money.”
His nostrils flare. His eyes flick to my mouth, and for a second, I’m gripped by the wild notion that he’s going to shut me up by kissing me.
Part of me hopes he’ll actually do it. How satisfying would it be to slap him right across the face?
“You not listen to what I just told you?” He’s staring me down again. “All the shit I had to give up? Of course I want the money. I want the money because I’m going to make Rivers Ranch look like this.” He tips his chin at the land around us. “Bringing my family’s land back to life has always been the goal. Your daddy knew that.”
I open my mouth. Close it.
Of course Grumpy Cowboy would have a noble reason for wanting ownership of Lucky Ranch. And of course it makes the mushiness in my chest spread to my stomach.
Maybe Cash isn’t an asshole just to be an asshole. Maybe he’s grumpy because he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for over a decade. He’s lost his parents. Raised his brothers.
Lost my dad.
“I didn’t know that,” I say at last.
His jaw tics. “You would’ve if you’d asked.”
“Like you’ve asked a damn question about me.”
“Me, me, me. That’s you in a nutshell, isn’t it?”
I narrow my eyes. “You know, I was just starting to feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t need your sympathy.”
“I don’t need your judgment.” I turn my head and straighten my spine, face burning all over again.
I should fire him. Right now.
But that would make me the asshole, wouldn’t it? And let’s be real; I’m way, way out of my element. I know how important a foreman is to the ranch’s operation, and I have no idea where I could find another go-to guy on such short notice.
One thing I do know? Cash makes this little world go round, much as I hate to admit it. If I’m going to be on the ranch—if I’m going to manage it in a way that would make Dad proud for the little while I’m here—I need Cash Rivers’s help.
“Why would Dad tell you the ranch was yours, but not change it in his will?” I ask.
I feel Cash shrug. The motion has him pressing his belly flush against my back. My pulse spikes. I ignore it.
“I don’t know.”
“But you said he and Goody worked closely together? Wouldn’t she have urged him to put that in the will?”
“Goody was always at the ranch, yeah. Why do you think she was able to tack up a horse so quickly? She’s ridden that filly so often, it’s practically hers at this point.”
“Ah. Right.”
“But, yeah, I imagine he thought he’d get around to changing the will, and then…who plans to drop dead at fifty-six?”
That’s one thing I do know about Dad. “He was always in such great shape.”
“You have to be if you wanna keep cowboyin’,” Cash replies.
I scoff. “I think my dad loved being a cowboy more than he loved anything else.”
“That’s not true.”
“You don’t know that,” I snap.
Cash yanks on the reins, pulling the horse to a stop. I turn my head a little so I can just glimpse Cash in my peripheral vision.
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“You resent me for knowing him better than you did, don’t you, City Girl?”
I turn away, my eyes welling with tears. I’m more angry than sad, but I cry anytime I’m upset.
Usually, I’ll try to hide it. Keep everyone else comfortable. At the very least, keep me from embarrassing myself. But fuck that. Cash wants brutal honesty, that’s what he’ll get.
“I do, yeah.” I wipe my eyes with my sleeve. “Maybe that makes me petty, but whatever. Dad was so good to y’all…goddamn, I wish he’d been that good to me.”
Cash is quiet for a beat. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I couldn’t care less about your intentions. Take me back to the house, Cash.”
“Mollie—”
“This conversation is over.”