4. Jackson
Jackson
T he wind howls as I shove the last of the sheep into the barn, slamming the door shut just as another violent gust rattles the walls. The storm is coming in faster and harder than the weatherman predicted
How fucking typical.
“Jackson.” I barely hear my mama’s voice over the wind and the distant rumble of thunder.
I turn to find her standing on the porch, arms wrapped tightly around herself like she’s trying to ward off the chill.
Her tired eyes cut through the dark, filled with the kind of exhaustion that has nothing to do with the weather.
“Just go up and talk to him,” she urges, her voice softer now, pleading.
“Mama, I love you, but now ain’t the time,” I grunt, adjusting my hat as the wind tries its damn best to rip it off my head.
“Son, your father–”
“Relies on me to run this ranch,” I snap, heading for the chicken coop and shutting it up tight. “As does everyone else. If I needed to go up there, if he needed me up there, I would be up there. Now go on inside, Mama, I need to finish up before the–”
I curse under my breath as the skies unleash holy hell upon us.
I look through the rain, watching as my mama hurries for the house as best she can with her bad hip, her hands gripping the railing as she struggles up the slick steps.
I move to help her, but before I can, the front door slams open, and Ozzy flies out like a shot.
She jumps down the steps without hesitation, wrapping an arm around my mother’s waist and helping to haul her inside just as a bolt of lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating the entire ranch for a terrifying split second.
Ozzy is back out the door in no time, turning to face me, drenched and breathless.
“Can I help?” she yells over the roar of the storm.
I shake my head, rain running down my face. “Take care of Mama and Pops! I gotta tie down the tools on the truck, and then I’ll be in!”
She nods, turning to go back inside—but then we both hear it.
A cry . A loud, desperate, terrified bleat. My stomach drops.
Fucking Leroy. He’s still out in the storm.
Ozzy turns, her dark eyes wide as they lock onto mine. Don’t you dare, woman. Don’t even think about it. Before I can tell her not to, I watch her jump back off the patio and run into the field.
“Goddamn it, Ozzy!” I shout while launching after her, cursing the way the mud sucks at my boots while the wind pushes against me like a goddamn wall. She’s fast— too fast. I’ve never had to push this hard just to keep up with someone.
By the time I reach her, she’s already at the crest of the hill where Leroy’s dumb ass is standing, frozen in fear, screaming into the storm.
I grab her arm, my gloved hand wrapping around her elbow. “Ozzy, stop?—”
She shoves me off, eyes flashing. “Don’t touch?—”
“Ozzy!” I bark while trying to catch my breath. Fuck, my lungs are on fire. “You can’t carry him! He weighs more than you! He’s scared, and you have no rope! What the fuck were you going to do?”
She stares up at me, chest heaving, rain dripping from her lashes.
She opens her mouth, about to argue, but a bolt of lightning striking the tree near us stops her.
I hear the loud cracking of a tree limb and look up in time to see the large branch falling.
Without thinking, I grab Ozzy by her upper arms and shove her away.
Pain rips through my thigh as the limb crashes down, slicing through my jeans, cutting deep. “Fucking cocksucker!” I bite out, gripping my leg as I hit the ground, mud and rain mixing with blood.
“Jackson!” Ozzy scream as she runs back over to me, trying to inspect the wound.
“Stop,” I growl, swatting her away. “You can see we are in a dangerous area; now isn’t the time! Get your ass back to the ho—Where are you going?” I shout at her retreating figure.
“If you won’t let me help you, I’m helping him!” I watch in horror as she runs up the hill, rain hammering her small frame, mud splashing up her legs as she heads toward Leroy.
“Fucking damn it!” I punch the ground before forcing myself up, every step sending a fresh wave of pain through my leg.
My jeans are already sticking to the wound, the blood warm against the cold rain.
I limp toward the fucking reckless, psychotic woman and that fucking goat. I’m going to kill one of them.
The pain radiating through my leg is unreal. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’m getting to her and Leroy, back to the barn, and then to the house with my leg fucked up.
Patting my pockets, I curse when I don’t feel my phone to call for my brothers. My clothes are beyond soaked; it feels like weights pulling me down as I slowly limp towards this fucking pain in my goddamn ass and the stupid goddamn goat.
By the time I reach her, Ozzy is sweet-talking Leroy as she walks him down the hill and into one of our pole barns.
“That’s it, big guy,” she murmurs, reaching for him slowly. “I know, I know. You’re scared. But I got you, okay? Let’s go.”
I stumble after them as she is fighting with everything she has to close the door, struggling against the dangerous wind whipping around us.
I step up behind her, planting my hands on either side of hers, helping her close and secure the door.
Ozzy turns around, and I watch her narrowed eyes go round with fear.
“Jackson!” she gasps while grabbing my soaked shirt and yanking me against her just as a shovel whistles by my head.
Well, I guess my fucking brothers didn’t bother to check the truck to see if I had everything strapped before running inside.
I stare down at Ozzy. She’s still gripping my shirt, her body shaking like a leaf in the wind. Her breath are coming fast, erratic. Her skin is ice-cold. Her teeth chatter, her fingers like frost against my chest.
We’re too close. I can feel every shiver racking through her body. My heart is hammering, my pulse thick in my throat. She looks up at me, rain dripping from her dark lashes, her lips parted slightly.
My eyes drop.
To her mouth, her throat, the rise and fall of her chest.
I should move. I need to move. But, I don’t.
“Get back to the house,” I order, my voice rough, gravelly. I don’t step back. I don’t let go.
Ozzy scoffs. “Tell Jen and Carter to get their asses out here and pick me up.” Her brows pull together, a tiny crease forming between them, and I refuse to acknowledge the way I find it kind of… cute.
Now definitely ain’t the time, Rowe.
“Aren’t you going back with me?”
Is this one of those fuck it, I might die moments? Because I have no reason to be this fascinated with Ozzy’s lips or that pretty little opal ball on her tongue. What would it feel like to kiss her? To feel that piercing in my mouth?
“No,” I protest, trying to push those thoughts away. We are minutes from a goddamn tornado touching down, and I’m over here fantasizing about her tongue piercing? “It’s too far, and my leg is killing me. I’ll stay here until they get a quad runner and get me. Now go.”
“But–”
I interrupt her protest by groaning.“Isn’t it bad enough that you nearly killed yourself and caused me to fuck up my leg? Go to the house and get my brothers to come get me.”
She narrows her eyes before shoving my chest and storming off. I don’t like letting her go alone, but hopefully, she will get there quickly and safely. Until then, I get to sit here, stressed the fuck out, because I will have no way of knowing if she’s okay until one of my brothers shows up.
Not that I care. I mean, I care because she’s a human and a woman, and I was raised to take care of women, to protect them. No matter how big of a pain in the ass they are.
At least ten minutes have passed, and I finally hear the quad runner. I see Carter coming over the hill, and I’m thankful Ozzy actually listened to me and went to the house.
“You alright?” Carter asks, his voice tight with concern as he hauls me onto the back of the quad.
“Peachy,” I snap sarcastically, gritting my teeth as I wince in pain. “Never better.”
I hitch onto the back and we speed through the fields, dodging straw, branches, and the full fury of the storm. The wind bites at my face, and the sky cracks open above us in flashes of blue and white rage.
We pull up just in time to see Ozzy— of fucking course —and Jensen finishing up tying the tools in the bed of the truck.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, jaw tightening. It doesn’t matter what I say—this woman has to disobey me at every fucking turn.
They come over and help get me off the quad, and I glare at the woman. Ozzy's soaked shirt clings to her body, her wild hair plastered to her cheeks and neck.
I growl, glaring at her through the sheets of rain. “What part of this seems safe to be out in to you?”
Ozzy steps closer, unbothered by my tone. “That’s enough with the heroics for five minutes, alright? I was helping. Sorry for trying to prevent another shovel from taking out your big-ass head.”
“It ain’t safe out there for a woman?—”
That’s all I get out before she’s in my face , her eyes dark as chestnut, burning with a fire that dared me to look away.
“Careful there, Superman,” she snaps, her breath visible in the chill. “Your misogyny is showing.” And just like that, whatever moment I thought we were having—gone.
Fucking infuriating woman.
Ozzy storms past me, soaked to the bone, her body trembling. Her tattooed skin is pale from the cold, but she still moves on like she’s holding herself together with spite and duct tape.
“I’m changing and grabbing my kit,” she tosses over her shoulder. “Make sure that leg’s accessible.” I open my mouth to tell her I don’t need assistance—don’t need her. But she’s already taken the towel from Mama and disappeared down the hall.
Mama gives me a look. One of those tired, “Don’t start with me” looks, and I wisely choose not to yell after the brat.