Chapter 3
The snow never stopped falling through the night, and suddenly, there’s more work than usual, but the ranch is quiet, and that’s all that matters to me right now.
My favorite time of day is that moment when the sky gets its first lick of sunlight and just the horizon is painted in a hazy line of golden light.
When all the snow is untouched and sparkling white, lying in blankets over Whiskey River.
I stand outside the bunkhouse with my hands inside my jacket and huff out a breath into the brisk winter air. I let the chill nip at my cheeks and jaw as I stand in the silence for as long as possible.
“Walker,” Ford says as he shuts the door to the bunkhouse behind him. He settles his hat over his head and nods up to Dot’s house. “Coffee and then you can yell some more,” he says with a tight smile.
“You know full well I’m not gonna yell in front of Dottie.” I fall in line with his steps.
“Well then, you got five minutes to do it now, because Maggie is coming for breakfast.” Ford shakes his head and shoves his hands into his jacket.
“I just don’t understand your reasoning,” I say, keeping my eyes trained on the snow-covered gravel in front of us.
“I don’t need reasoning, I’m lead hand and Maggie is coming to work,” he says so matter-of-factly that I can’t help the grumble that tumbles from me.
“That temporary city plant has never worked a ranch in her life, and you’re telling me that’s who we need to help us get through this winter?” I scoff.
“You don’t get an opinion here, Walker,” Ford says tightly. “She’s a hard worker, and you’ll treat her with some respect. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
“She can’t stay in the bunkhouse, the guys will tear her to shreds.”
“She’s not staying in the bunkhouse,” Ford grumbles. “Are you done now?”
Instead of answering, I kick some gravel under my boots and reach to open the mudroom door for him. We both stomp off our boots and follow the smell of coffee into the kitchen, where Dot pulls a pan of muffins from the oven.
“It’s too early for you two to be bickering,” she says while she checks the doneness with a knife. She turns, waving the blade haphazardly in the air. “What is it now?”
Ford starts to laugh. “Bode here doesn’t want city girl Maggie-Mae on his ranch.”
Dot turns her eyes to me and narrows them. “Bode Walker, do I need to remind you that we don’t make assumptions about anyone here?”
“Tell that to your son,” I huff. “Mr. ‘She’s just like her daddy,’ Ford Lawson.”
Ford bristles beside me and pours himself a coffee. “That was different.”
“No, it wasn’t, and he’s right.” Dot gently smacks him with a tea towel. “You boys need to start acting like the gentlemen you were raised to be. You aren’t pigs in a barn.”
“Yes, ma’am,” we say in unison, and Ford passes me a cup of coffee. His dark eyes still watch my every move as he removes his hand and runs a hand through his head of dark hair.
“Have you heard anything more from the lawyers?” Ford asks Dot.
This conversation has been happening more and more lately. There wasn’t a more confusing dynamic than in Dot’s family. Her late husband had married into Whiskey River, and they had one son on their own, Wyatt. Four years later, Ford Lawson stumbled up the pathway, barely six years old.
No one really knew where he came from, but they never found his parents.
Dot adopted him when he was nine, and he became a part of their family—it’s just how it’s always been. Unfortunately, after Dot’s husband passed away, Wyatt took over the finances of Whiskey River, and it’s been trouble ever since.
He never had an interest in the ranch, he’s a money-hungry loudmouth who took up a fancy apartment in the city. We rarely see him, but even the mention of him has Ford playing defense.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Twelve Acres is pushing hard to sell that back six, but luckily Mr. Norterman is a stubborn old bastard and won't budge. Lands overgrown to shit, he doesn’t have livestock left to care for.”
“He’ll die before he sells that land,” Dot groans.
“Maybe he just needs buttering up,” she hums and starts looking around the kitchen, clicking her tongue when her eyes land on the basket.
“Get that for me?” She points and I set down my coffee to grab the wicker basket from the top of the cupboard.
“Thank you, sweet boy,” she pats my hands and starts arranging muffins in the basket. “I’ll go see him today.”
“Thanks, Ma,” Ford nods. “Has Wyatt sent over the financial reports for last year?” He asks, and she shakes her head. “I’ll call him,” he grumbles roughly, not wanting anything to do with his adoptive younger brother.
“What can we do today?” I ask, trying to solve some problems.
“We have to get the herd down out of the back pasture,” he says, taking another swig of coffee. “We’re going to split the teams.”
I wander around and make the mistake of grabbing a hot muffin with cold fingers. “Fuck,” I curse, but Dot only laughs, holding out a napkin for me and handing me the muffin with a smile. “You think that’s smart? The cattle are cranky, and we barely have enough men to cover what we’re moving.”
“I think we don’t have many options, and if this snow continues, I want the herd in a pasture closer to the ranch,” Ford says, and he has a point.
Tramping through thick snow isn’t fun when we’re chasing cattle.
But most of the pastures close to the ranch need work done, and there’s no way we can get the cattle moved and the fences fixed all in one go—not unless we split the teams.
“Fuck, alright.” I shrug. “So we split. I need at least three guys to get the fences done in time.”
“You can have Crew and Maggie,” Ford says.
“No.” I shake my head. “Take her up on a horse and let her play cowboy in the pastures far away from me. I’ll take Crew and Peter if you can’t spare anyone else.” Peter was shit with a hammer, but at least he wasn’t some goddamn city girl looking to get her brand new boots dirty in the country mud.
“Crew and Maggie,” Ford repeats before he thanks Dot for the breakfast and heads out of the house.
“Crew and Maggie.” I roll my eyes, and Dot gives me a small wink of encouragement before wrapping up a second muffin for me.
“Do you remember your first day here?” she asks me as she clears the dishes used for breakfast. The question throws me off guard mid-bite of my first muffin.
“You were so worked over walking from the stables to the bunkhouse had you in tears.” Her eyes flicker to mine for a brief second before she goes back to starting a second batch of muffins.
I frown, remembering the hell I got from Ford for the pained sound I made lying down in my bunk that night. “What about it?”
“Everyone has their first day on this ranch, Bode. She knows this is hard work more than I think you truly understand.” She’s barely looking at me at this point while she measures ingredients and dumps them into the large metal mixing bowl.
“I’m not going soft on her.” I frown, finally realizing what she’s getting at. “She’s gotta put in the work just like everyone else has.”
“Did I say that she didn’t?” She quirks a brow at me. “Just remember how you felt when that day was over when you start barking orders at her.”
It’s then I hear the front door open and shut with a few soft thuds of boots stomping off snow in the entryway.
I know it’s her before I even see her, and simultaneously my hackles rise and warmth blooms low in my gut.
Standing, I round the counter, placing a kiss on Dot’s temple.
“She’ll do the work just like I did.” The words come out rough, and I swipe the wrapped muffin off the counter and head out through the mudroom before I get distracted by walking sunshine.
I don’t get a moment to breathe before I hear that door swing open and shut again behind me, and the soft crunch of frosted gravel grows louder in my shadow.
“What’s the plan today, Cowboy?” I look back at her, prepared to be annoyed, but she looks so cute shoving pieces of muffin in her mouth that I nearly stumble over my two feet into the snow.
Her nose is red, and her smile is wide as we lock eyes, and for a second, I forget she’s an absolute thorn in my side.
“Are you always like this?” I ask her, shoving the spare muffin in my pocket with my hand to keep it warm.
“Like what?” She continues to walk, her short legs trying to keep up with mine, but she’s having to take nearly three steps for my one.
“Annoying.” I huff a breath of hot air and stomp toward the barn.
“I take it you’re not a morning person?” She says with her mouth full of muffins, which should irritate me, but instead, it’s just adorable.
“I get up at four am every day,” I say with a scowl.
“Getting up and being ready for the day are two different things.” Maggie flashes another smile at me, and I swear the snow around my feet melts from the heat.
“How do you figure that?” I ask as she passes through the barn doors on my heels. I latch it shut behind her.
“You’re getting up because you have to, I’m getting up because I like to.” She shakes the snow off her puffy jacket.
“No one likes getting up at four a.m., Maggie,” I grumble, turning away from her to try and at least focus on what I need to prep before we head out. I glance up to see Crew leading Juniper out of the stall with a shit-eating grin already on his face as we make eye contact.
“I like getting up at four a.m.” He grins and looks between Maggie and me.
“See!” Maggie points over to Crew before planting her hands on her hips. “You just don’t want to admit you're not a happy morning person.”
The moment I hear Crew chuckle, I know this day will be a hell of a lot longer than it should be. “Don’t you have something you could be doin’ right now?” I ask her.
“I’d like to have something, but you haven’t given me anything to do yet, Cowboy.”
“Go pick a damn horse.”
She grins and turns to find the first stall. “That one.”
My eyes track to where she’s looking when I see Kelpie’s name tag on the stall door. “No.”
“Why not?” She balks, looking back at me. “You told me to pick a horse, so I picked.”
“Not that one.”
Maggie frowns. “Why?”
My head falls forward as I try to take in a calming breath, but the more she argues with me, the tighter the muscles in my shoulders become.
“Bode’s a little… possessive over Kelpie,” Crew cuts in, and I’m grateful. Any response I would have given her, she would have returned with another Why? And I might have exploded then and there.
“Ah,” Maggie says after a moment, like she has it all figured out. “Is this some weird ‘don’t touch my toys’ thing?”
“Kelpie isn’t a toy, and neither are any of these other horses,” I scold, taking a step towards her. “You’re wasting our daylight. So quit talkin’ and pick a damn horse.”
“How about you just tell me what horse to get on and quit wasting your own daylight by making me play the guessing game?” she quips back and steps towards me with her shoulders pinned back and those green eyes burning a hole through mine.
She’s close enough now that I can smell her perfume. Honey and Tulips flood my senses, and while part of me hates the fact that she put on perfume to do ranch work, another part of me wants to fall straight into her—if only to see if she tastes as sweet as she smells.
“Walker,” Crew intervenes with his hand on my shoulders. “Go load up the wheeler. I’ll get her saddled.”
Even as he walks me a step away from her, Maggie’s eyes never leave mine. “She wants to be a damn cowboy? Give her Gus.”
“Gus is barely broken in,” Crew argues with concern etched on his face. “She ain’t gonna be able to handle him.”
“Let her prove herself.”