Sadie
I woke before my alarm, my body already tense with the kind of awareness that came from knowing I'd crossed a line I couldn't uncross.
Dallas Miller had his hands on me yesterday. Not only his hands, but his mouth, too. His weight pressed against me in that dusty alley while I came apart twice and didn't care who heard.
Now I had to look at him in daylight and pretend I knew what any of it meant.
I didn't.
My body didn't care what it meant. My body had woken up wanting him again, which was inconvenient and humiliating and apparently just how things were now.
The rodeo grounds were already busy when I arrived, volunteers hauling equipment, vendors setting up booths along the midway. The Fourth of July Rodeo was bearing down fast, and the whole town buzzed with that particular brand of organized chaos that came before a major event.
Dallas's truck was parked near the stock barn.
My pulse kicked up before I could stop it.
I found him at the holding pens, clipboard in hand, looking exactly like he always did—steady, quiet, and competent. Sun-browned forearms, worn jeans, that calm presence that made skittish animals settle and people immediately give him all of their trust.
Except now I knew what those forearms felt like flexed under my hands. Knowing was so much worse than wondering.
He glanced up when I approached.
“Morning.” His voice was the same. Low, even, careful.
“Morning,” I managed.
He didn't touch me. Didn't smile. Didn't reference yesterday in any way that mattered. Just handed me the clipboard. “I pulled the six we flagged into separate pens. Figured you'd want to recheck them before making a final call.”
He was professional and helpful, just like he'd been a thousand times before. Only now I knew exactly what all that restraint felt like when it finally broke.
I took the clipboard, my fingers brushing his for half a second before he pulled back.
Twelve hours ago those hands had been in my hair. Now he couldn't stand half a second of contact.
So that was where we stood.
I focused on the paperwork because work was safer than the alternative. How was I supposed to get through an entire day working with him when I could still feel his mouth moving over my skin?
One pen at a time. That was how.
The call wasn't hard to make.
All six animals showed irregularities: mismatched brands, falsified ages, and forged certifications. The brindle steer's injury alone was enough to disqualify it, but the pattern across multiple animals made pulling them all the only responsible choice.
That didn't make it easy.
Cody Briggs looked like I'd told him to rebuild the arena by hand when I gave him the list.
“Six head?” His voice cracked. “This close to the start?”
“I'm sorry.”
“Mayor Nelson’s gonna lose his mind.”
“Better than losing livestock mid-event.”
Cody pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, muttering something about schedules and replacement contractors and how the Hollister name used to mean something people could count on. That last part hurt.
I felt every volunteer's eyes on me as word spread. Heard the whispers that followed me from pen to barn to office. Saw the tight-lipped looks from people who'd known me since I was a kid riding my first barrel pattern at the county fair.
You sure you want your name on that call?
Dallas didn't speak for me. He just stood nearby, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He was present but not interfering. Just like he always was. That mattered. I couldn't explain why, but it did.
Then Tanner showed up.
My brother looked like he'd come straight from morning chores. He had dust on his jeans, and his hat shadowing that look of controlled intensity he always wore. He stopped next to me at the holding pen gate, studied the pulled stock, then turned to face the small crowd that had gathered.
“If Sadie says they don't run, they don't run.” His voice carried across the yard, calm and firm.
Mayor Orville nodded. “Understood.”
Cody exhaled. “Right. Okay. I'll start calling backup suppliers.”
The crowd dispersed, still whispering, but the pressure eased a bit.
Tanner met my eyes. “You good?”
I nodded, my throat tight.
He tipped his hat and walked back toward the main arena where Waverly waited by the fence.
A Hollister backing my call shouldn’t have caught me off guard. But after years of my last name feeling like a weight around my neck, it was strange to have someone offering support.
Dallas started making calls before I could process what having Tanner stand up for me meant.
He stood near the stock office, phone pressed to his ear, his voice low while he negotiated replacement animals with someone on the other end.
His posture was relaxed, his tone easy, like this was just another problem to solve.
My throat went tight, and this time it had nothing to do with Cody.
“I didn't ask you to fix this,” I said when he’d finished his call.
He glanced over. “I'm not fixing it for you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Holding gates.”
Those were words he'd used before… the same job he'd always done. But now they meant something different, and we both knew it.
He was right. That was what Dallas did. He held gates, settled stock, made the catch, and let someone else take credit. He'd been doing it for years. But now—after yesterday, after his hands on my skin and my name in his mouth—it didn't feel like the same job anymore.
I didn't know what to do with a man who helped without trying to control the outcome.
I knew what I wanted to do with him. That was the problem. So I did what I always did when things got complicated. Went practical.
“I need supplies from the Merc.”
Dallas pocketed his phone. “I'll drive you.”
“I can drive myself.”
“I know.” He didn't push. Just waited, keys in hand, until I gave in and climbed into his truck because arguing felt like admitting something I wasn't ready to name.
The cab smelled like him. Leather and hay and clean sweat, close enough to touch and completely off limits, and I spent the drive staring out the window like the fence posts were fascinating.
Nelson's Mercantile was packed.
People filled the aisles buying flags, sunscreen, bottled drinks, and parade candy, while catching up on the latest gossip. The Fourth of July brought the whole town out, and Ruby Nelson held court behind the counter like the queen of a very small, very well-informed kingdom.
Hades stretched out on the sidewalk near the front door, a massive gray shadow in a patch of sunlight. Customers stepped around him like he was a permanent fixture. One little girl reached out to pet him, and her mother pulled her back.
Hades didn't move. He just watched over everyone and everything with those unnerving yellow eyes that didn’t miss a thing.
As soon as we walked in the door, I saw Addison at the counter with what looked like the entire contents of the beauty section in her basket. She had safety pins, hairspray, mints, bottled water, backup earrings, bandanas, stain remover, and a ridiculous amount of bobby pins.
She glanced up as I approached, and her public smile shifted into something real. “Sadie. Tell me you're here to rescue me from my own poor planning.”
“Looks like you've got it covered.”
“I have it contained. There's a difference.” She picked up a pack of safety pins. “I’m putting together a rodeo queen emergency kit. I should've done this last week, but I was optimistic about my organizational skills.”
“Fatal mistake.”
“It always is.” She studied me for a second too long, then lowered the pins. “What’s got you twisted up today, your family or Dallas?”
Heat crawled up my neck. “Both.”
Her mouth curved. “Is it that bad?”
“Worse.”
“So Hollisters, Dallas, and you did something everyone knows about that you're pretending you didn't do.”
“Buy your safety pins, Addison, and enjoy the fact that you only have to be here through the weekend.”
She laughed, but her eyes told me she knew too much. “True, I'm only here through the Fourth, then I get three weeks to recover before Mustang Mountain drags me back for Rodeo Royalty Weekend.”
“You love it.”
“I love the girls. I tolerate the hairspray.” She added another pack of bobby pins to her pile. “But mentoring the younger contestants is worth the effort. Even if they do try to flat-iron their hair at five in the morning in a bathroom with one outlet.”
Ruby appeared behind the counter, her silver hair immaculate, her red frames sparkling in the light. “Sadie Hollister. I heard you pulled six head.”
I was surprised it had taken her this long to mention it. Usually, Ruby was the first one to fact check the news.
“The paperwork didn't match the stock.” I held her gaze.
“Smart call.” Ruby rang up a customer without breaking eye contact with me. “The town's talking, but you already know that.”
“I figured.”
“Tanner backed you.”
“He did.”
Ruby gave me a satisfied grin. “Hollisters choosing right over easy. That'll shake some folks up.”
The bell over the door chimed. Hades walked in, followed by Dallas who was carrying a box of bottled water like it didn’t weigh a thing. He set it near the counter, nodded to Ruby, then glanced at me.
My whole body noticed. One glance across a crowded store and my skin remembered everything.
The whole Merc went quiet. For a second, everyone waited… me, Ruby, Addison, and the handful of customers pretending not to stare.
Then Hades laid down by the door and dropped his head onto his paws with a soft huff.
Ruby's smile widened. “Well, there you go. That's as close to approval as anybody gets from him.”
Dallas looked vaguely uncomfortable. “Should I be honored or worried?”
“Only worry if he gets up.” Ruby started scanning a couple of bottles of sunscreen the customer in front of me set down on the counter.
Addison bit back a laugh. I focused very hard on a spot on the back wall and tried not to let it matter that Hades tolerated Dallas.
Animals trusted Dallas. They always had. One more piece of evidence I didn't want to examine too closely.
Ruby handed change to the out-of-town visitor, then leaned on the counter, eyeing me through those red frames.
“That boy's been looking at you like you hung the moon for longer than you've been pretending not to notice.”
My face went hot. “Ruby—”
“Just saying.” She straightened, utterly unapologetic. “Some things are obvious to everyone except the two people living them.”
Addison caught my eye and grinned.
Dallas, mercifully, had moved toward the back to grab something else and didn't seem to have heard. Or he was pretending not to.
Either way, I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
Because the worst part wasn't Ruby saying it in front of half the town. The worst part was how much I wanted it to be true. And how careful he'd been with me all morning, like yesterday was a door he'd already closed.
I found the few things I needed, then returned to the counter and emptied my basket.
Ruby rang me up, her expression pleased as punch.
“Have you ever heard of Cedar Draw?” I asked, desperate to shift the conversation from my love life to something I could use.
Ruby's hands stilled on the register. “That's a name I haven't heard in years.”
“What was it?”
“Not a ranch, exactly.” She tore the receipt free and held it between her fingers. “More like a name folks used when they didn’t want their own on the paperwork. It showed up on feed receipts, supply orders, county fair entries, stock transfers. Things like that.”
“Why?”
Ruby looked at me over the top of the register. “Because sometimes a person wants to move cattle, buy supplies, or settle a bill without making it too easy to trace back to who was really behind it.”
Addison glanced over. “I saw that name. On one of the old boxes Morgan asked me to sort for the heritage display.”
I frowned. “You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure. There were old photos, ribbons, county fair entry forms, some regional rodeo stuff. I think there might’ve been a ledger or an album too.” She picked up a tube of lipstick, then set it right back down. “Want me to look again?”
“Don't worry about it. You've got enough—”
“I'm a rodeo queen, Sadie. Looking pretty while carrying six impossible things is half the job.”
Ruby chuckled. “She's not wrong.”
Addison paid for her supplies and tucked her receipt into her purse. As she did, she knocked an envelope onto the floor. I reached down to pick it up, but she beat me to it, shoving it down into her purse like she had something to hide.
Hades lifted his head. Not toward Dallas this time. Toward Addison.
She stiffened, her smile never slipping.
“What was that?” I asked.
“What was what?”
“The envelope.”
“Fan mail.” Her voice stayed light. “Comes with the crown.”
I didn't buy it. Ruby didn't either, judging by the look she gave Addison.
Still holding her purse close to her side, Addison headed for the door. “See you tomorrow, Sadie. Try not to pull the entire rodeo before Friday.”
She stopped at the front window to dig her keys out, and Hades tracked her the whole way, his head swiveling to keep the purse in view through the glass.
The door chimed shut behind her.
Ruby didn’t say a word, but something wasn’t sitting right with her.
Dallas reappeared with a case of sports drinks and a bag of ice, his gaze moving between us like he knew better than to ask.
We left the Merc together, supplies in hand.
Outside, Addison was already at her car, keys in hand, that perfect rodeo queen smile back in place.
Dallas reached for the case of water.
“I can carry it.”
“I know.” Then he stopped and waited until I handed it to him.
That small gesture was one of many I should have noticed through the years. All this time, he’d been right next to me, supporting me in small ways that added up. I still didn’t know what to do with that, so I kept walking.
As we made our way toward his truck in silence, the whole town spread out around us.
I could feel people watching. And I was suddenly, acutely aware that whatever had happened between Dallas and me yesterday wasn't just between us anymore.
Mustang Mountain saw it too.
I wanted to ask what last night meant. Wanted him to tell me it wasn't a mistake. Wanted him to stop being so careful and look at me the way he had in that alley, right before everything changed.
Neither of us said a word about it.
Instead, Dallas said, “I got a line on replacement stock out of Billings. Should have confirmation by tonight.”
So that’s how he preferred to handle things. We’d go back to work and pretend the line we'd crossed hadn't knocked us both off our feet.
Dallas held the truck door open like nothing had changed. Addison waved from across the lot like nothing was wrong. And for one foolish second, I almost believed both of them.
But I'd seen the way Hades watched her go. That wolf had a sixth sense about sniffing out trouble in Mustang Mountain. Whatever she was hiding, it wasn't fan mail.