Chapter 13
But Daddy I Want Him
“Keep letting the cattle spread out like that, and we’ll lose that one,” Heath shouts, motioning to a calf who’s slipping past my side of the herd and is darting toward a gap in the fence.
“They move easier when they’ve got space to roam,” I call out. “But hey, if you think you can handle it better, be my guest.”
He narrows his eyes, tugging on the brim of his hat. “It’s fine. Just grab that little one before it sets off a stampede.”
I spur Ranger, my bay quarter horse, forward with a sharp “giddyup,” shifting the reins to one hand as we surge forward.
Veering toward the fence, I grab my lasso from the saddle and swing it overhead, looping it clean around the calf’s neck, leaving just enough slack to slow it down without hurting it.
“Easy, there,” I say, easing the calf toward the herd with careful pressure on the rope.
Of all the chores on the ranch, nothing compares to being on horseback, riding alongside the cattle. It’s the best part of the job and makes the days more manageable when I can break them up with a ride through the pastures, taking in the natural beauty of the land.
Once the calf is back with the herd, I ease the slack on the rope and, with a practiced flick of my wrist, slip the loop over its head, keeping the rope clear of its legs.
I coil the lasso on the saddle horn, tucking the end under so it won’t drag, and give Ranger a pat on the neck for a job well done.
“Still think letting the cattle spread out was a good idea?” Heath hollers, riding up beside me.
“It would’ve been fine if the fence was intact,” I mutter defensively.
We’re in the process of mending the fences in this field, but it’s been slow going with the entire crew focused on tending to our ever-growing operation.
The late afternoon sun beats down without mercy, and I peel off my gloves and grab my canteen from my saddleback, taking a long swig of water to quench my parched throat.
We’ve spent the better part of the day finishing up the cattle vaccinations and are just now wrapping up herding them to the south pasture to graze.
By this point, tempers are frayed, and it’s clear both Heath and I are itching for a break.
We work best when we tackle separate projects.
The minute we team up, he wants to take control.
As the oldest, he’s convinced he should call the shots, afraid I’d somehow screw up if left to my own devices—even though I’ve been doing this almost as long as he has.
He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his neck as he shoots me a wary glance. “We going to keep ignoring this thing with you and Birdie?”
Other than the group chat I’ve shared with him and Briar the past couple of days, we haven’t really talked about it—and honestly, I’m good with that.
I take another drink of water before responding. “There’s not much to talk about.”
He fixes me with a level stare. “That mean you’re sticking to the story that you’ve been secretly seeing each other and only went public after getting caught at the bar?”
“That’s what happened,” I say, keeping my voice even. “I’m not sure what else you want me to tell you.”
“Uh-huh,” Heath replies, stroking his mustache and keeping a tight grip on the reins with his other hand. “So all those weekly trips to the feed store were only about stealing a few minutes with her—in public, surrounded by her coworkers and customers?”
I sigh, putting my canteen back in the saddlebag. “Can you stop picking apart my relationship and just be happy I found someone I care about, instead of sleeping around?”
Heath scoffs. “Walker, I’m not an idiot. You haven’t done that in years, despite what everyone else thinks.”
Seriously, why does he have to be so damn perceptive? We might not always get along, but he knows me better than anyone and has a knack for seeing straight through my bullshit.
I nudge my horse forward with my heel to guide another straying cow back to the main group.
“Everything changed the moment I realized I had feelings for Birdie. She’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted a relationship with, and I knew I had become someone worthy of her.” There’s a sense of freedom in confessing part of the truth out loud.
Still, the very reputation I’ve been trying to outrun is the same one that made Birdie turn to me for help.
Despite cleaning up my act and trying to become a better man, she still sees me as the charmer who’s left a trail of broken hearts, and I worry she’ll never recognize that she’s the only person I can see a future with.
Heath glances my way. “You’re too hard on yourself. Birdie’s lucky to have you.”
I snicker under my breath. “Says the guy who finds something to criticize no matter what I do.”
He hesitates, worry creasing his brow. “That’s never my intention. I’m grateful for everything you do around the ranch. This operation wouldn’t be possible without you, Brother.”
“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.”
He seldom gives praise, and when he does, it comes off stiff. So even though this doesn’t erase the underlying tension between us, I consider it a small step toward him seeing that I’m fully committed to the ranch’s success.
I guide Ranger to a slow stop at the pasture where the cows will graze for the evening. My phone buzzes in my shirt pocket, and I shift the reins to my other hand to fish it out.
Sheriff Matterson: I’m back in town.
Sheriff Matterson: Can you come to the station? We need to talk.
Shit.
I wipe the sweat from my brow, my eyes glued to the screen.
There’s only one thing he could want to talk about, and I’m not ready to face him about dating his daughter.
Not only did I not ask for his permission, but we also made it official while he was out of town. There’s no chance he’ll let that slide.
“Why do you look like you just spotted a rattlesnake?” Heath asks.
“Sheriff Matterson wants me to come down to the station,” I mutter.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, this is going to be great. Mind if I tag along?”
Of course the smug bastard finds it hilarious that I’m about to get my ass handed to me by a man twice my age.
“No, you’re not coming.”
My phone buzzes again.
Sheriff Matterson: Don’t keep me waiting, son.
Heath eases his horse closer, leaning carefully to catch a glimpse of my screen, and gives me a clap on the back. “You’d better get to the station, or things are only going to get worse for you.”
I give him a sharp look. “Aren’t you the one constantly complaining about me not pitching in enough around the ranch? Yet you’re telling me to leave when I’m here working?”
He shrugs. “We were just about finished anyway.”
“You’re no help,” I huff, running a hand over my jaw.
The way I see it, there’s no avoiding this. Resigned to my fate, I type out a quick response and hit send before I change my mind.
Walker: Yes, sir. I’ll be there in 30.
Sheriff Matterson: Make it 25.
If this were for anyone else, I’d bail on our arrangement to avoid this impending talk. But I’d do just about anything for Birdie—even face down her dad, who very well might shoot me.
Heading into the sheriff’s office feels like I’m walking into my own funeral. The place is buzzing with activity—from the office clerk typing up a report to the receptionist fielding calls. Every head turns as I pass, probably all wishing they could sit in on judgment day.
Mason flashes me a smug grin, donut powder clinging to his lips. “Well, well, Halstead. Guess you overestimated your standing with the sheriff.”
I narrow my eyes in his direction. “We’ll see.”
Unwilling to waste another second with him, I stride toward Sheriff Matterson’s office. The door swings open as I approach, and Birdie steps out.
She’s wearing a blue sundress paired with cowgirl boots. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, leaving her neck exposed, and it makes me want to lean in and kiss the column until she’s left breathless.
“Howdy, sweetheart,” I drawl.
A smile tugs at her lips when she sees me. “Walker, what are you doing here? I thought you were working on the ranch today?”
“Your dad asked to talk to me, so I came straight from there,” I explain.
Her gaze shifts to my dusty Wranglers and sweat-stained shirt. “Oh, I’m sorry he did that. He should have waited until you were on shift.”
I can’t help but chuckle as I wave her off. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t think that man has ever waited for anything in his life.”
Birdie shakes her head, laughing softly. “You’re right about that.”
I open my mouth to respond when Sheriff Matterson’s booming voice thunders from his office.
“Halstead! Stop flirting with my daughter and get your ass in here.”
I can’t see him from the doorway, but the sharp edge in his voice makes it obvious he’s in one of his moods.
“Guess I’ll see you on the other side,” I deadpan.
“Cheer up, Deputy.” She leans in, her lips brushing against my ear. “Survive this, and I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
She’s fucking sexy when her bold side shows, and I love that she’s beginning to trust me enough to let it out more often. It makes it damn near impossible to focus on anything but her, and I’d give anything to be able to pin her against the nearest wall and kiss her senseless.
And that’s how I end up walking into my boss’s office with a raging hard-on—all thanks to his daughter, who’s under the illusion she’s too awkward to charm a man, but whose pouty mouth says otherwise.
“Shut the door behind you, Halstead.” He nods to the chair in front of his desk. “Take a seat.”
Even leaning casually in his seat, the man radiates power.
His peppered hair is neatly trimmed, and a permanent crease between his brows hints at years of scowling.
His polished pistol is on his desk within easy reach, a silent reminder of the authority he wields.
Until now, I’d managed to avoid getting on his bad side, but I should have known that luck wouldn’t last forever.