Chapter 13
I t’s hard not to stare at her, especially when she’s looking the way she is.
The denim cut-offs she’s wearing are far too short, and the red checked shirt she has knotted at her midriff shows off just enough of her tight stomach to make me want to kiss her there.
She can’t hide how excited she is and when she’s excited, she smiles a helluva lot. I try not to like it, but it’s not easy. Making her happy does something to my insides, and I can’t help but like that she doesn’t seem angry about having to be here anymore.
“You ever do anything like this?” she asks, as we make our way onto the stands. The arena’s packed out today, just how Wade likes it. He’s sure to put on a good show.
“Yeah, I wasn’t bad at it,” I shrug my shoulders. Sure, I never made it to pro like Wade has, but I was a strong competitor.
“Why don’t you do it anymore?” Maisie’s big, blue eyes look even prettier when there’s a spark of curiosity inside them.
“Things got too busy on the ranch, Pops injured his back and struggled managing all the day-to-day running, so I had to step up.” Her bottom lip pouts out, and her forehead creases like she’s feeling sorry for me, but there ain’t no need.
I like working the ranch, there’s no place I’d rather be, and I’m not afraid of hard work.
“You take on a lot, you know,” Maisie looks out onto the ring to avoid eye contact with me.
“Yeah, well, someone’s gotta,” I huff a laugh, and roll up the programme I got in my hands.
“Just ‘cause you’re the eldest doesn’t mean you have to do everything.”
“I don’t do everything, we have staff.”
Granted, some of those staff have been questionable choices. Seth survived his night in the woods, and after Mitch untied him, he got sent on his way. Now I’m a man down, and in the middle of summer, that’s a helluva strain.
“You have another brother. Can’t he pull his weight?” she suggests.
“Cole’s complicated, he can’t be pushed.
He’s angry right now, best thing to do is leave him to do his thing.
” What I want to tell her is that Cole’s a selfish bastard, he knows how much stress I’m under.
Pops sits behind his desk, thinking he’s mastered success, while I’m doing everything it takes to claw some of our respect back.
It’s stubbornness, and hate, for his brother that keeps Pops from seeing any sense.
The way his pa ran the ranch was what kept it successful.
Uncle Jimmer had the same vision, he knew that to stay on top you gotta be a little underhanded.
You gotta have control, and the Carsons used to have anyone who was important in their pockets.
Men wore the Copper Ridge brand because they were proud to belong there, now all those men have gone, and Mitch is the only branded man left on the ranch.
He’s a man of his word, and despite disagreeing with my pops, his loyalty to my grandpa, and that brand on his chest, keeps him here.
The years without control have taken their toll, and Copper Ridge has become vulnerable. Whether or not it’s fair, it falls on me to make sure we push back.
Maisie gets distracted when the evening starts, and despite all my attempts not to, I spend most of the time watching her.
“Who’s he?” she asks, when the seventh rider climbs into the bucking chute, and the crowd starts to cheer.
“That’s Leonard Mason, three time world champion,” I tell her, there ain’t no denying he’s good, but he got to where he is on bribes and backhanders.
The Masons were new to ranching when they arrived in Fork River, fifteen years ago.
Pops said they would never last, but they’ve bought everything that surrounds us, and it seems the town eats out their hands, instead of ours, these days.
Even the Mayor and the Commissioner, who claim to be friends with Pops, fall in line with their demands.
I was too young back then to prevent it from happening, and I’ll never forgive my father for sitting back and watching them take from us.
“He’s really good.” Maisie watches him gripping the saddle and fighting to stay on the bronco. I hate that she looks so enthralled by him, it puts a kinda anger in me that I ain’t used to. One I know can’t be relieved, not even if I kicked the ass out of Leonard Mason, myself.
“88.5,” the announcer calls out, and she jumps to her feet and cheers like the rest of the crowd.
“Looks like Wade’s up next!” She looks down at me excitedly, when she spots him climbing over the bucking chute.
It always makes me nervous watching him, my brother is damn good, but he’s reckless.
You gotta be a certain kind of man to get on the back of a bronco.
One without cares and without feeling. Back when I used to ride, I used to love that countdown.
Time stands still when you’re fighting to stay on a saddle, your hands go numb, and the adrenaline pumps through your veins so fast you hear the blood rushing in your ears.
Despite all the chaos around you, there becomes an emptiness inside your head.
In those few seconds, all that matters in the whole world is staying on the back of that horse.
My heart beats hard in my chest when the gate opens, and I tense as I watch my brother get thrashed around by the strong-willed bronco he’s saddled on. He makes it look effortless, and I swear I see the hint of a smirk as he passes the 6-second mark.
“He’s incredible.” Maisie watches him in awe, and it’s pathetic how jealous it makes me feel.
“Wow… We got a 90.5, ladies and gentleman. Wade Carson makes it to the top of the leaderboard with 90.5!” The crowd goes wild, and when I stand on my feet to join them, I stumble back when Maisie throws her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek.
It’s just like she did in the truck, on the way to the auction, last week.
Only this time instead of holding on to my hat, I let it fall, and I wrap my arm tight around her waist just so I can test out how it feels.
Her eyes fix on mine when I keep her held, for a little longer than I should. We’re so close, close enough, that I could test how it would feel to kiss her, too, but it doesn’t matter how much I want to. It would be wrong. Maisie Wildman is off limits, not just to the bunkhouse boys but to me, too.
I release her slowly and sit back down, picking up my hat and dusting off the rim before I place it back on my head. She looks disappointed, but still manages to give me an awkward side glance and a sad smile.
I’ll just have to ignore how much it fucking hurts.
In the end, Wade takes the buckle, and when we head around to the trailers to congratulate him, Maisie can barely contain her excitement. She runs at him and embraces him the same way she did me, and when he lifts her up off her feet and kisses her cheek, I have to look away.
“You were awesome! You just beat a world champ!” she squeals, and as always, he does a shit job of acting modest about it.
“I’ve beat him before, and I’ll beat him again,” he tells her, before looking over at me.
“Good job,” I nod my head. Wade knows I’m fucking proud of him.
“We’re all heading over to Henley’s Grill to kick back, you wanna come?” he asks, and I can tell by the look on Maisie’s face that she wants to go.
“I gotta get back to the ranch,” I feel bad for pulling her away, but I have no idea what time Pops is planning on getting back from this retreat he took Cora on, and I promised Tate he could have the night off, which means I’ll have to take his watch.
“I can give her a ride back. I was planning on coming home tonight anyway,” Wade offers.
“No, it’s fine, I came with Garrett.” The sheepish, little smile she gives me makes my chest feel fucking heavy.
“You should go have a good time,” I tell her; as much as I want to spend the drive home smelling the way the breeze pulls through her hair, like it did on the way here, she shouldn’t have to suffer for it.
“You mean it?” There it is again, that natural instinct she has to seek my approval. And it’s so fucking wrong of me to get off on it.
“Go have fun,” I tip my head at her, then look at Wade. “A word,” I gesture my eyes toward the trailer, and he follows me behind it.
“You watch her and make sure she stays out of trouble.”
The pathetic smile, he looks back at me with, makes me want to punch him. “I mean it Wade, she ain’t from round here. Keep your eye on her,”
“I got ya, brother,” he slaps my shoulder. “You heard anything from Cole?” The cocky smirk drops off his face, and he suddenly looks serious.
“Not a thing,” I shake my head. Fuck Cole. He ain’t worth getting a headache over, not when I’ve got so much else to figure out.
“His funeral, he’ll come crawling back, and when he does, we’ll make him eat shit,” Wade laughs, and I roll my eyes before heading back to say goodbye to Maisie.
“Can you really not come?” She wrinkles up her nose and pulls that disappointed face at me.
“I really can’t, but you have a good time,” I go to walk away, and when she calls out my name desperately, I immediately turn back around.
Her eyelashes flutter, and she blushes like she’s embarrassed by her outburst.
“Thank you for bringing me,” she bites her bottom lip and smiles at the same time. And I have to get the fuck outta here before I march back over to her and take it between my own teeth.
I think about her all the way back to the ranch, trying to remind myself that I lost a sister eighteen months ago.
I never really grieved Breanna, but to do that, I’d have to get past all the anger I got for myself.
I can tell myself as many times as I want that I’m looking at Maisie like a replacement, but it won’t make it true.
The truth is I’m a hypocrite, I’m falling for a girl fourteen years younger than me, and I’m counting down the days until she goes back to her life in L.A. so I don’t have to suffer it anymore.