Chapter 29
MATTY
Hudson swung into the saddle with a grunt, his jeans dragging against the worn leather, and I steadied him with one hand on his hip. He wobbled for a second, then glanced over his shoulder with a crooked grin.
“Is this the princess seat?” He settled himself right against me.
I barked out a laugh, looping the reins in one hand and tucking my other arm across his middle.
I couldn’t resist slipping my hand beneath his shirt and stroking his taut belly.
Yeah, it was gonna be hell not touching his ass for a while to give him a break.
“If you’re the princess, what does that make me? ”
“You’re the knight. Always have been.”
That lodged somewhere in my chest, heavier than I wanted to admit. He’d come a long way in openly admitting his feelings, and I couldn’t ask for anything else of him.
Junebug stepped out steadily, her hooves drumming a slow rhythm into the packed dirt.
The sun was dropping lower now, the heat easing into something kinder, and the breeze carried the smell of cut grass and cottonwoods.
Hudson leaned back without seeming to think about it, his shoulders pressing into my chest, his head on my shoulder. It felt…right. Too damn right.
I adjusted the reins, guiding Junebug across the pasture. The creak of the saddle, the sway of her stride, Hudson’s weight pressed into me—everything slowed, smoothed out. Like this was how it was supposed to be all along.
“You know,” Hudson said after a bit, voice quiet but not hesitant, “I don’t hate being in this seat and having you take control, though you already know that.”
“Mm.” I smirked, pressing my knees into Junebug’s sides to push her into a full run. Hudson jolted forward, a startled laugh breaking out of him as he clutched the horn.
“Bastard.”
“You’re the one who wanted a ride.”
He twisted his head enough to look at me, his grin lopsided and warm. For a second, I forgot the reins in my hands, forgot everything but the spark in his eyes. I eased the reins, and Junebug settled back into a walk.
“We’ve been getting amazing weather,” he said after a while, tipping his face into the breeze.
“Knock wood it’ll last,” I murmured. “Winters are tough on everyone.”
“I remember that first winter here.” He let out a soft chuckle. “I thought my bones would never thaw.”
I squeezed his side lightly. “City boy.”
“Yeah, well. City boy who still can’t get your horse to let him ride her.” He gestured at Junebug. “Still convinced she’s plotting against me. Probably scheming how to get rid of me when you’re not looking so she doesn’t have to share your affections.”
“She lets you get away with most,” I said, unable to keep the grin from my voice. “She likes you enough to let you feed her, and she won’t say no to you riding her if you’re with me.”
“Not exactly comforting. I want her to love me the way she does you.”
“Hudson.” I leaned down, close enough that my lips brushed his ear. A shiver ran through him. “Horses can smell desperation. She’ll come around when you stop trying so hard. Just let it be.”
He elbowed me gently. “All right, horse whisperer.” But he relaxed into me, and damn if it didn’t make me want to keep riding until the stars came out.
We cut south, Junebug carrying us easily, the ranch sprawling around us. The cattle grazed in the distance, heads lifting and lowering in a lazy rhythm. Everything was quiet so I could almost believe we were alone in the world.
I tugged on the reins, directing Junebug toward a stretch of open grass where she could graze. She slowed with a huff, grateful for the break, and I slid off first, steadying Hudson as he followed. The saddle creaked, leather brushing against denim. Then his boots thudded onto the dirt beside mine.
I looped Junebug’s reins around a low branch and gave her a pat on the flank. “Go on, girl.” She lowered her head and nosed at the grass, already chomping.
Hudson stretched his arms overhead, spine cracking, then let them fall loose at his sides. Although he’d been working the land for the past four years, he looked around like he wasn’t used to seeing so much space. I imagined it must be freeing for him, given he’d been locked up twice.
I stepped behind him, wound my arms tight around his waist, and drew him back against me. He didn’t resist, just melted, resting his hands lightly over mine. I kissed his neck.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“About this land,” I said, my voice quieter than I expected, “I’ve always known it would be mine one day, and I don’t mean just in the legal sense.
Mine in the way you know every tree, every dip in the ground, every creek bed you nearly broke your neck in.
I’ve been riding this land for as long as I can remember. ”
Hudson tilted his head back against my shoulder. “You have your family’s legacy. That’s pretty cool.”
“I used to think about running it one day.” My throat thickened as I stared out at the cattle grazing for miles.
“And about who’d be running it with me. Before you came along, I didn’t realize how goddamn terrified I was that to make my mother happy, I’d end up marrying some hoity-toity country-club-going guy with pocket squares and polished shoes, someone who wouldn’t know a fence post from a fence rail.
Someone who wouldn’t love this place the way I do. ”
Hudson’s laugh was soft, but he squeezed my hand. “So you settled for a city boy who nearly froze his ass off his first winter? Because I’m not much better. God, I hate to say this, but your mother would get along with mine so well.”
“Settled?” I pressed my lips to the side of his neck, right beneath his ear. “I got more than I ever thought I would.”
“You don’t have to be modest. You’re the catch. A nice dick, smart, kind, you have a fortune, and did I mention a really thick dick?”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Dick’s so good you have to say it twice, huh?”
“The best, but seriously, Matt, you’re a fucking catch. What do I have to offer you but my body? I have no special skills to bring to the table, a questionable past, and money woes.”
“Well, let’s see.” He took my hands and turned them over, running his fingertips over the calluses. “For one, you’re an honest and hard worker. You never complain, even when you work longer hours than everyone else. For that alone, I’d wed you in a heartbeat.”
He stiffened against me. Fuck. Had I scared him? But he had to know I was in this for the I dos and the matching wedding bands, right?
“But outside of that, you’ve brought the greatest joy in my life,” I said. “Just with your presence and Ivy’s.”
I wanted to tell him I would adopt Ivy one day, so we would all share the same surname, but I didn’t want to spook him.
The last time I’d moved way too fast, not giving him time to catch up, and Hudson needed time.
After all he’d gone through, it took him a little longer to let himself believe and be happy.
We stood like that for a while, wind tugging at our shirts, Junebug cropping grass a few feet away.
“Have you talked to her? Your mom?” Hudson asked softly.
The weight of the question hit me like a stone. I pulled back, shaking my head. “No. She’s called. Left voice notes. I erase them each time.”
“You’re not ready to forgive her?” he said gently.
“Not even close.” My jaw tightened. “She doesn’t get to waltz back in like nothing happened.”
Hudson turned in my arms, looking at me square. His eyes weren’t judgmental, but steady, knowing. “I get it. I do. But the longer you put it off, the harder it’ll get. Take it from me.”
Something in his voice, low and brittle, told me he’d experienced the same. “Your folks?”
He nodded, eyes shifting out over the pasture.
“My mother’s been calling more lately. Wants me to visit.
Wants to meet Ivy.” His smile was humorless.
“But too much bad blood’s been spilled between us.
I wouldn’t even know where to begin or how to get over what they did when they turned their backs on me.
It’s not even so much that I went to jail for my actions, but what they did afterward in suing me when they knew I couldn’t afford it.
That was a huge blow that’s held me back from the kind of life I always dreamed of for myself, but I’m not going to pretend cutting them off has been easy.
It hurts like hell. It’s bitter and sad and disappointing.
I wouldn’t wish that on you, Matty. Not with your mom.
Don’t wait until it’s too late like me.”
I swallowed hard. My mother’s face flickered in my mind, all painted lips and sharp words.
Deep down, I knew he was right. My mother was a complicated person, and our relationship wasn’t close, but she’d always done right by me except in Hudson’s situation.
But I also hated what she’d done. Hated that part of me wished things were different and that I felt more connected to her.
“I’ll think about it,” I murmured.
He nodded, brushing his thumb across my knuckles, and we let it drop.
We walked for a bit, following the fence line. The sun was tilting toward the horizon, shadows stretching long. Junebug let out a soft snort, her ears pricked. I followed her gaze and spotted movement by the far edge of the pasture.
“Shit.”
A calf was wedged between a low creek bed and a fallen branch, legs stuck awkwardly, sides heaving as it tried to kick free.
“Let’s go.” Hudson tugged at my arm, and we slid down the bank, boots sinking into mud slick with water.
The calf bawled, high and panicked, scrambling harder the closer we got. Hudson crouched right in the muck, murmuring nonsense words to soothe it. Water splashed up his arms as the calf jerked its head.
I waded in beside him, jeans soaking through in seconds, and braced both hands on the slick branch pinning its leg. “Hold his head.”
Hudson obeyed, mud streaking his shirt as he cradled the calf’s head, keeping it from thrashing. Together, grunting, slipping, cussing, we wrestled the branch free. Water sprayed across my chest when the calf kicked loose.
It sprang up, shaky but alive, then bounded a few paces up the bank before turning to bawl at us like it was cussing us out.
Hudson pushed wet hair off his forehead, laughing breathlessly. “Ungrateful little shit.”
I stood there dripping, shirt plastered to my skin, and still managed a grin. “Still enjoying ranch life, princess?”
He flipped me off with a hand streaked in muck, still laughing, and damn if my chest didn’t ache with how much I loved him in that moment.