Chapter 9
HUDSON
Dust clouded the air, dry and heavy, coating everything: skin, clothes, and lungs.
My shirt clung to my back, sweat traced a line down my spine, but the work was familiar.
Steady. A good kind of exhausting despite the tension strung in the air from all the latest happenings on the Magnuson ranch.
Speculation had turned into hardened truths that now spread across the town like wildfire.
Gray Magnuson was indeed sleeping with his son’s fiancé, which was confirmed when, a couple of days ago, he’d had an explosive fight with Carter, who showed up at the ranch and learned about their affair.
Junebug huffed under Matty’s legs a few yards ahead, her ears twitching as she cut off a stubborn steer trying to break formation.
He rode like he was born in the saddle, and he practically was.
Gray had ensured both his boys were knowledgeable about ranch life, even if the older son had chosen a different path.
But today Matty was restless, distracted, and my heart hurt for the way his family’s name was being dragged through the mud.
Five of us were working together: Matty, me, Hans, Boone, and Clayton. Good men. Reliable hands, most days. But today… Today, their mouths were running like a busted pipe about the Magnuson family matter, and it grated on my nerves.
“You hear what they’re saying in town?” Hans muttered low, nudging his horse closer to Boone. “Gray sleeping with his son’s fiancé. That’s some Jerry Springer-level shit.”
Boone chuckled. “It ain’t even the first time I’ve heard a story like that, but damn. Who would have thought Gray could do his own son dirty like that? The boy ain’t even all that. Could have found somebody better for sure.”
I gritted my teeth to stop from barking at them to shut the fuck up and get on with the work. For one, Matty. I didn’t want to interfere in his family’s messy business.
No matter how much I wanted to go to him and ask if he was okay, I knew better. I was the last person Matty would want to talk to. Not when another area of his life was crumbling. His mother and brother had left town yesterday in a mood. The whole town knew about it.
“Guess even decent men get lonely,” Clayton said, voice loud enough to carry. “Still, banging your kid’s partner? That’s foul.”
I tensed, tightening my hands on the reins, clenching my jaw so hard it ached. I glanced toward Matty. Had he caught it? Shit, judging by the way his shoulders stiffened and his body went still, he had.
Without a word, he peeled off. Turned his horse and rode away from the group toward the ridgeline, out of earshot.
Fuck.
“No, seriously.” Hans made no effort to lower his voice, since Matty was gone.
“I blame the fiancé. Should have kept his legs shut. How much of a slut do you have to be to sleep with both the dad and the son? That’s how disease spreads, I tell ya.
Never liked all that gay shit that happens around here. Ain’t natural.”
“Will you shut the fuck up about it already?” I wheeled my horse around to face them. “You leave the Magnusons’ family business alone. It has nothing to do with you.”
Hans lifted his chin, unbothered. “Everyone already thinks it. What’s the matter if we say it out loud?”
“Well, maybe everyone else should mind their damn business too.” I tugged on the horse’s reins to steady her under me.
“Gray has done more for this town and this ranch than any of you ever will. That man’s given up holidays, sent your kids to colleges, and made sure y’all had paychecks and steady work. ”
Boone snorted. “Didn’t realize we weren’t allowed to have opinions anymore. Especially when it’s the truth.”
Hans crossed his arms and smirked. “Why you so worked up, Granger? Defending the cheaters like it’s personal.”
“Because I know better than to bite the hand that feeds me.”
Hans laughed. “Oh, right. I forgot. Cheating runs in your blood too, don’t it?
Weren’t you sleeping with the boss’s son a few years back?
Probably thought all this was gonna be yours one day, didn’t cha?
Thought that lying under Magnuson’s son like a bitch in heat would get you a piece of the land? Well, how did that turn out for ya?”
“You gonna continue talking out of your ass, Hans?” I was barely clinging to my control.
Hans’s laugh boomed even louder as he doubled over, wheezing.
“You gotta be two shades of stupid to ruin all this for the town whore. Although I can see why you dropped Matty faster than a busted fence in a storm. He ain’t nothing but a pampered brat with mommy issues playing cowboy ’cause Daddy owns the deed to this land.
Always thought he was too good for the rest of us, too clean, too proper, like being gay made him special.
Musta not have what it takes to please you in bed, eh, Granger? ”
The hit came before I even registered dismounting my horse.
Knuckles to cheekbone. Sharp and satisfying.
Hans stumbled back, spitting blood, and lunged for me. Clayton shouted, trying to grab his arm. Boone jumped off his horse, yelling for us to knock it off. But Hans and I were already swinging again, boots scraping dirt, fists flying. He landed one on my ribs.
“You can talk all the shit you want about me!” I punched him in the jaw, rocking him off his feet. “But don’t you say a word about Matty, you homophobic fucker!”
“Enough!”
Gray’s voice cut through the chaos like a whip crack.
Everyone froze.
He rode up fast, eyes hard under the brim of his hat. His glare landed first on me, then on Hans, then swept the rest of the crew.
“I don’t know what the hell started this, and frankly, I don’t give a damn, but this stops right here,” he barked.
“Hans, homophobia has no place on this ranch, and if Hudson hadn’t already made you bleed, I would have knocked your fucking teeth out for passing comments about my son.
You’ve got a decade on my son, but Matty’s already more of a man than you’ll ever be. ”
“I don’t need to take shit from you.” Hans rubbed his jaw and took another step toward me. I squared up, ready to drop him again.
Click.
The unmistakable sound of a shotgun cocking silenced the yard.
Gray swung down from his horse, calm as ever, his rifle in one hand, finger brushing the trigger.
“Go on,” he said, voice low and deadly. “Give me a reason to fill your hide with holes.”
Hans froze.
“You’ve seen me shoot the head clean off a rattlesnake in the past, and you’re a much bigger target.” Gray leveled the barrel, not flinching. “You say my son’s name once more, and Holler & Sons will be short one casket come sunset.”
Hans’s Adam’s apple bobbed hard as he swallowed. No one moved. No one dared breathe. I’d never seen Gray that livid before, and I believed he meant every word coming out of his mouth.
“Now,” Gray said, steel in every word, “get the fuck off my land. I will not tell you twice.”
Hans backed up slowly, fists clenched, lip bleeding. He spat onto the dirt. “This ain’t over. I’ll sue all your asses. Watch.”
He stormed off, muttering under his breath. We didn’t speak until he got into his truck and drove away quickly, leaving behind a trail of dust.
Gray holstered his rifle and turned to the remaining hands, his voice steady but sharp as a blade. “Anybody else got comments on what goes on in my bedroom and that of my son’s?”
A couple of them shifted awkwardly, but they all shook their heads.
“No, sir.” Boone tipped his hat. “None of my business. I’m just here for the work.”
“Then get to it.” Gray shifted his gaze to me, his jaw unclenching, his expression softening. “Hudson.”
I met his eyes, breathing hard, sweat on my brow, knuckles still stinging. The urge to punch something was still present. I’d wanted to beat Hans to a pulp. Did he really think I would have let him badmouth Matty and not do anything?
“Call it a day,” Gray said. “Cool off. You earned it.”
But did I? Because lately, I felt like the only thing I deserved…earned was Matty’s hatred. Would he have faced all this ridicule and have his manhood questioned if not for me?
My shoulders sagged. “It was nothing.”
“Not to me. Thanks for standing up for my kid,” he said, quieter now.
I gave him a single nod, more embarrassed than proud. My face was hot from more than the sun, but I didn’t say anything. Just turned and headed to my horse.
He didn’t have to thank me. It was the easiest choice I’d made all damn day.
I swung into the saddle and rode toward the lake, needing the cold water, the quiet, the space to breathe. My hands were still shaking, still stained with Hans’s blood. My collarbone throbbed like hell, and my chest burned with the kind of fury that didn’t disappear after a few deep breaths.
I didn’t want Ivy to see me like this. Busted up and bristling with rage. I was supposed to be her safe place, not the kind of man who came home with blood on his knuckles and a black eye swelling shut.
That was past Hudson. The one without a care in the world. The one who thought his family’s money would always protect him. Until it didn’t.
So I rode.
Out past the southern ridge, through the windbreak of cottonwoods, and toward the lake where the land dipped and softened and the trees gave a little shade. My thoughts were a storm, circling back to Hans’s smug face and his mouth. To Matty’s shoulders going rigid before he rode off.
He must be going through hell.
The entire town was lit up like a damn Fourth of July bonfire with the gossip of Gray sleeping with his son’s fiancé.
It was in the Bristlecone Bulletin’s gossip column: “Magnuson Ménage?” scrawled in bold pink ink beside a sketch of a pitchfork and broken heart.
It was the talk of the poker table at The Dusty Spur.
At The Dolly Stop, Dolly Mae had added a scandal special to the chalkboard: Hot Mess Hash with extra sausage.