Chapter 18
eighteen
RIVER
I kept the truck in low gear, letting the tires chew steadily over the dirt access road winding up into the foothills of the Double T.
I read the quality of the silence in the cab, tuning into the steady, quiet rhythm of Julia’s breathing beside me.
She had one arm draped over the open window frame, the evening breeze kicking up the dark waves of her hair as her fingers danced through the air.
She was tracking the long shadows stretching across the grass, and the fevered, restless tension that had gripped her body earlier was blessedly absent.
Just a few hours ago, I’d stood in her bedroom doorway and watched Gideon wreck her to help sate her Omega and settle her heat flare.
It had left her exhausted. Even after a long nap with her Beta, I could tell her instincts were raw.
The over-ripe dark cherry scent alluding to her pre-heat was still clinging to her skin, syrupy sweet between us, reminding me of how close to the edge she was riding.
I just wanted to give her room to breathe, room to settle.
I pulled the truck off the main trail, easing it over a slight rise before killing the engine after making sure the truck bed pointed west, giving us an unbroken view of the valley below as the sun began its descent toward the distant peaks.
“We’re here,” I told her quietly.
Julia unbuckled and slipped out of the cab before I could come around to get her door. I met her at the back of the truck, watching her face as she took in the location.
The meadow was a hidden bowl cut into the ridge.
It was carpeted with a mix of tall green grass, scattered wildflowers, and tons of the tiny, bell-shaped white flowers I hoped she’d like.
The meadow was our own private, tranquil haven for the evening.
There were no cattle grazing up here, no working hands, no overlapping Alpha scents competing for dominance.
Even the wildflowers were mild. The air carried a soft, clean naturalness that wouldn’t overwhelm a sensory-fried Omega.
I watched her take a slow breath, tracking the way her chest rose and fell while I waited for her reaction. Whether she realized it or not, her entire demeanor softened, her shoulders relaxing, her muscles going languid, her eyes losing their guardedness.
Oh yeah, this was exactly what her inner Omega needed.
She let out a soft exhale, and a genuine smile touched the corners of her mouth. “It’s beautiful up here, River.”
“I thought you might like it,” I replied, moving toward the tailgate. “Figured we could both use a peaceful night off.”
The tailgate gave a metallic groan as I lowered it and reached in to grab the basket Boone had packed for us, along with a large, soft blanket she’d hopefully like.
I walked a few yards out into the center of the grass and spread the blanket flat.
Setting the basket down, I went back to the truck’s cab and turned the radio on low.
A gentle country song drifted through the open doors, filling the air without demanding attention.
Julia kicked off her sparkly boots and settled onto the blanket, pulling her knees up beneath her sundress and wrapping her arms around her legs.
I settled beside her and unpacked the containers Boone had sent.
Instead of a hot, heavy meal, he’d prepared a rustic grazing board with thinly sliced cured meats—hopefully something she’d like, given her Italian roots—alongside mild artisan cheese, fresh berries, a slab of honeycomb, and a stack of homemade crackers.
It was zero-pressure food. If her stomach was still rolling from the heat flare and she only wanted to pick, I wanted her to have options to choose from.
I unscrewed the thermos he’d included, letting the soothing steam of chamomile and honey cut through the chill settling over the ridge. Tucked in the very bottom of the cooler were the desserts: a pair of brown butter blondies and a small fruit tart with a toasted oat and graham cracker crust.
I caught the dry-sweet, wheaten scent of the crust—a dead ringer for my own scent profile—and smiled to myself. I didn’t know if Boone had done that on purpose, but I’d gladly take the assist.
We ate in companionable quiet for a while. I didn’t push the conversation. I’d spent a lifetime existing in the spaces Ransom didn’t occupy, learning that silence wasn’t something to be fixed. It was just another way to listen.
And I listened to the rustle of the wind through the tall grass, to the soft, steady rhythm of Julia biting into a blackberry, then snapping off a piece of a cracker.
Most of all, I paid attention to her scent.
Since she didn’t wear her blocking lotion around the ranch, I got to read every natural shift in her signature.
The overwrought spike of her pre-heat that had run her ragged all afternoon was finally losing its edge.
Her scent was slowly softening into something lush, pliant, and incredibly relaxed.
When she finished eating, she leaned back on her hands, stretching her legs out.
Her fingers absently grazed the tops of the tall grass, brushing against a patch of those white, bell-shaped blooms. She broke one off at the stem, bringing it close to her face.
I saw her brow furrow slightly as she tried to catch the scent.
I reached out, taking the small flower from her fingers. I shifted closer, fully in her space now, and gently tucked the white bloom behind her ear. My knuckles brushed the sensitive skin of her jaw, and I let my hand linger for just a fraction of a second, catching her gaze.
“It’s called a ghost flower,” I told her quietly. “It doesn’t smell like anything. Completely scentless.”
Her brown eyes sparked with immediate interest. I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she processed the concept of a blooming flower that produced zero fragrance.
Now that I knew she liked to make her own lotions and candles, I could tell that the look behind her eyes was her wondering about the chemical makeup of the plant and how its scentless properties were even possible.
I smiled, admiring that brilliant brain of hers, but I covered her hand with mine. “Not tonight, Pretty Girl.”
Julia blinked, her focus snapping back to my face. “What?”
“I know that look,” I murmured, smoothing my thumb over the back of her knuckles.
“Your brain is already ten steps ahead, trying to figure out how to put it to use. Give yourself permission to just let it be a flower for tonight. If there’s one thing you learn in ranching, it’s that the work will still be there tomorrow. ”
She let out a low laugh, the sound slightly rueful. “You do not miss a single thing, do you?”
“I pay attention to the things that matter,” I corrected.
The pink flush that climbed her cheeks sent a swell of pride straight through my chest, purely because I was the one who put it there.
The acoustic guitar on the radio gave way to the slow, steady drawl of a steel guitar—a song meant for closing down a dive bar or holding someone in the dark. I stood, offering her my hand. “Dance with me.”
She didn’t hesitate. A warm, genuinely flattered smile curved her lips as she placed her palm directly into mine.
I pulled her up effortlessly. I didn’t spin her or make a show of it.
I just drew her straight against my chest, wrapping one arm around her waist and resting my other hand flat against her spine, letting her sink right into my space.
Julia let out a shaky sigh and rested her cheek against my collarbone.
She fit perfectly against me. I began to sway us slowly in the tall grass, letting the rhythm of the music dictate our movement.
I kept my chin rested against the top of her dark hair, loving when she nuzzled her nose into my chest and breathed deeply.
We swayed for a long time listening to the sounds of the meadow coming alive at night as the stars conquered the sky overhead. Any remaining tension she’d been carrying bled away as she let me hold her.
“I’ve been watching you,” she whispered against my shirt.
“Have you?” I kept my tone unhurried, my hand stroking a slow path up and down her spine.
She tipped her head back, looking up at me.
Her dark eyes were studying my face with that quiet perceptiveness she possessed.
“You’re the quiet one. Ransom fills up every inch of a room, Stetson acts like he’s holding the weight of the world, Boone feeds everyone to keep them functioning, Colt works himself to the bone like he has a debt to pay, and Gideon manages the emotional fallout.
But you… you’re different. You stay a pace or two behind Ransom’s chaos, and people think you’re just along for the ride. ”
I raised an eyebrow, genuinely interested in her read. “And what do you think?”
“I think you’re the one actually holding the center together,” Julia stated.
She didn’t sound like she was guessing. More like she was stating a fact she’d already verified.
“I see how Sunny is with you. When she wants to play, when she wants to be loud and wild, she runs straight to Ransom. But when she’s tired, or she has a nightmare, or she just needs to feel safe...
she goes to you. Every single time. Because you’re her safe place to land. ”
A sudden tightness gripped my throat. She’d seen me.
She hadn’t just looked past my brother’s noise to find me, she’d paid attention to the actual shape of what I provided.
People enjoyed Ransom. People relied on me.
But nobody ever really laid it out like that, acknowledging the value of being the quiet harbor.
I stopped swaying and looked down at this fierce, beautiful woman. Everyone else got distracted by the identical paint I shared with my brother, but she saw right through to the studs.