CHAPTER 7
“We’ve got to move him,” I grumble to Chase as I turn to the bull, Ralph, in the pasture. He’s a damn mean one. A fantastic breeding bull, but fuck, he has a temper. An injured worker and yearling this morning has left me no choice but to separate him from the herd ahead of the drive in two weeks.
I’m moving fifty of my hundred herd onto the pasture slightly up the mountainside, with the height of summer coming, maintaining every pasture on this ranch becomes too expensive and when the grass dries up, supplementing their feed to ensure they don’t lose weight ahead of sale at the start of fall sucks my money dry.
The pasture, about fifteen miles from the ranch, will take a day to get to and an overnight camp.
With my staff numbers slashed in way more than half, I can only take one from the team and Chase, leaving two to man the ranch while I’m gone.
It’s only a day, but a lot can happen in twenty-four hours.
It’s required several times a year, but it doesn’t lessen the anxiety when it needs to be done.
At the end of the summer, they’ll be driven back onto the ranch and sold, but without moving them, their weight will drop and their worth plummets. I can’t afford the risk.
“He’s a mean one,” Chase winces toward the bull blowing dirt, its wide eyes set on a young bull getting too close to one of his females. He’s our prime breeder, but if he keeps injuring the other cows, I’ll have to rethink the position.
“Grab Sal from the stables,” I order. “He can help with this one.”
“You sure you want to do that?” Chase quirks a brow. “That boy shits his pants whenever he goes near the fence.”
“If he wants to keep his position here, he will.”
Chase opens his mouth to say something when something behind me catches his attention and his mouth drops open.
I know without turning around, but I do anyway.
Elena stands on the porch, Judge sat like an obedient puppy by her side as she cradles a mug and looks toward us.
Her raven hair, caught in a beam of sunlight so it looks somewhat blue over the midnight black it usually is, is tossed to the side, and her frame is drowning in another one of my Carter Cattle Ranch tees.
It falls to the mid-thigh, hiding the injury, but even from here, I can see the edge of the bruise peeking out from the bottom.
I know from checking on her this morning that her entire thigh is mottled black and blue, the flesh from the branding raw and angry.
She was dead to the world when I went in at four a.m., not even stirring at my presence.
And here I thought being a mafia princess with very real threats on her life would have her sleeping with one eye open.
Though I’m sure her catatonic state had more to do with the amount of whiskey she consumed the night before.
“Who is that?” Chase asks.
“A pain in my ass,” I reply with a bite, something stirring low in my gut, knowing he’s seeing her how every man in a fifty-mile radius would see her.
Fucking gorgeous.
Chase whistles low, “They don’t look like that round here.”
“She’s off limits,” I snap and turn my eyes to him, pinning him to the spot.
He holds his hands up, “Hey now,” He chuckles, “Don’t need to piss on her, just saying.”
My fingers find the bridge of my nose, “I’m not — it’s not like that. She is just off limits, okay?”
“So? You’re not fucking her, got it?” He grins.
“Chase,” I warn.
“I hear ya, boss,” He begins to walk backwards, keeping his eyes on Elena, “Loud and clear.”
When he’s far enough away, he turns and starts heading to the stables to find Sal so we can get ready to move this bull.
I turn back to Elena, finding her leaning forward on the railing, her head cocked as she watches me.
No, watching isn’t the right word. She analyzes, scrutinizes, I feel it in every step I take toward her, her grey eyes rolling over me as if she’s trying to read words on my skin I cannot see.
“Do you ever smile, cowboy?” She asks me when I’m close enough. Judge’s tail hits the deck at a rhythmic pace as he wags it. I reach between his ears and scratch in greeting.
Not in a long time, “When there’s something to smile about.”
“I need clothes.”
“Mmhmm,” I agree, my eyes lingering on her legs.
“If I’m supposed to work, I need clothes,” She repeats.
“Heard you the first time.” I move into the house, forcing my head to remain forward so I don’t look back. I just know the t-shirt would have ridden up enough to show her ass. “How’s the leg?”
“Like I got shot and burned in the same day,” She follows behind me.
“And the ribs?”
“Broken.”
I huff a humorless laugh and grab the keys to my truck. “Go into town. There’s a small boutique and a thrift store; you’ll find something in there.”
Her lip curls, and she ignores the offered keys. “Did you forget I’m in hiding?”
“I don’t have time to run around after you, De Luca.”
“Who’s your friend?” She asks, “He looked willing to help.”
My fingers curl around the keys, tightening until the edge of them bite into my palms. “He doesn’t have time either.”
“I think he’ll make time,” She flutters those long dark lashes and sips on her coffee.
In my head, I count to three, hoping it’ll provide me the patience I need to handle this fucking woman, but when I reach for the drawer handle, I yank it open so hard everything within rattles. I snatch out the notepad with a pen and toss it onto the table.
“Write down your sizes. I’ll go when I’m next in town.”
“And when will that be?” She starts to write, her handwriting surprisingly delicate and elegant.
“When I have time.”
She lifts her eyes to me and pins me with a glare. “You expect me to wander around in your shirt forever?”
I shrug.
“First you brand my leg, then you force me to wear a shirt with your name on it.” She sucks her tongue against her top teeth. “Careful cowboy, people might start to talk.”
One. Two. Three.
Her chuckle follows me as I retreat.
I keep a tight hold on the reins as I watch Ralph, his eyes round as he observes, huffing and blowing into the ground. Sal is off to the side, his horse nervously side stepping as he picks up on his rider’s energy while Chase is on the other.
We’ve got to get it right, put the pressure on where needed, but reading Ralph right now tells me he’s ready to charge. We’ve done this song and dance and while the stubborn bull doesn’t like me much, I’d like to believe there is some sort of respect there.
It’s a hundred yards to the solitary paddock. I’ve driven cattle nearly two hundred miles before, back in the high days of the ranch, moving one bull shouldn’t be an issue.
Or so I say.
“Come on Ralph,” I call to him, “Back.”
The dry dirt puffs up on a cloud as he lets out an irritated huff of air from his large nostrils. I step forward on Honey, my American paint horse, who I’ve had since I was twenty-one. She’s as feisty as Ralph and responds to his aggression with her own huff, her hoof pawing at the dry earth.
We gain about twenty yards, the open gate beckoning. Chase applies pressure to the left, but that right remains open, Sal too fucking scared to do what is needed. He only has a job because I respect the fuck out of his father, but this kid isn’t willing to put in the work.
The ranch is no place for fear.
Adjusting my position, I fill the gap.
“Got an audience, boss,” Chase calls over. Elena ambles over in that thigh length shirt, a pair of my boots on her feet several sizes too big, and another bottle of my fucking whiskey. How the fuck did she get into my office!?
“I think I’m in love.” Chase is practically drooling when I look over to him, his eyes devouring her where she stands at the fence line. To make it worse, she lifts her hand and gives him a little finger wave, fluttering those long lashes at him.
“For fuck's sake,” I grumble, “Back to fucking work!”
He flinches at my tone and has the audacity to look sheepish, returning his attention to the matter at hand. It wouldn’t be so bad if there currently wasn’t a two thousand seven-hundred-pound bull wanting to kill us.
“Sal,” I snap at the young apprentice, “Either push back or get the fuck out of the paddock.”
Off to the side, I feel Elena’s eyes watching, her casual curiosity nudging me to get this done and done right.
My father would tell me that showing off is what gets cowboys killed, but that’s not what killed him. That was the lack of accessible healthcare, thanks to fucked up systems and not enough money to cover insurance and quality medical care.
The anger is a living thing under my skin. Because it all circles back. Back to her family and her name, back to the choices made that left so many people fighting for their lives.
Perhaps I should have let her die as a fuck you to the powers before her. After all, we are the sins of our fathers.
“Back,” My voice booms across the paddock and out of the corner of my eye, I see her flinch.
Ralph steps back, huffs and turns so I’m quick to apply the pressure, driving him from behind as Sal and Chase come in at the sides.
When he’s safely through the threshold, I jump from Honey and secure the gate, locking him in his solitary paddock.
There’s plenty of space for him to roam, a building he can use for shelter and enough grass to keep him healthy and fed.
I turn back to the guys, my finger pointing in Sal’s direction, “You got some learning to do, boy, if you want to keep your position on my ranch.”
He dips his head, and I cut my eyes to Chase.
I don’t have to say a word, but his hands go up, an apology and surrender, or as good as.
Elena wanders toward the fence of the paddock where Ralph is, sparing me only a glance.
“Stay the fuck away from that bull,” I warn her, grabbing Honey’s reins to turn her out for the rest of the day.