The Cowboy Breed (The Cowboys of Sunset Springs #9)

1

Gordon Windgate had learned there were worse things than being hated.

Being tolerated sat heavier.

Hate had teeth. Hate had heat. Hate gave him something to brace against, something to meet with his shoulders squared and his jaw locked tight.

But tolerance was quieter. It stood ten feet away with folded arms and careful eyes.

It offered a polite nod, a work order, maybe even a cup of coffee if the evening was long enough.

Then it waited to see if he would prove everybody right.

Gordon drove the last nail into the split rail fence and gave the post a hard shake. It held. The wood scraped rough beneath his palm, still warm from the late August sun, stubborn as everything else on Stanley Ranch.

He stepped back and squinted toward the pasture.

Sweat rolled from beneath the brim of his hat and slid down the side of his face.

His shirt clung to his back. Dirt streaked his jeans.

His gloves had a fresh tear across one palm, and somewhere between moving feed sacks, repairing the fence, and helping one of the new hands unload lumber near the family cabins, he had picked up a scratch along his forearm that stung every time the breeze touched it.

Good.

The sting kept him present.

Gordon could get lost out here if he let himself.

Lost in the sound of cattle shifting through grass.

Lost in the creak of leather, the whine of a truck engine, the distant voices of children finally home from school.

Lost in the idea that if he worked hard enough, kept quiet enough, stayed useful enough, the name Windgate might someday stop landing in people’s minds like a warning shot.

He bent, grabbed another rail from the stack, and hauled it into place.

The fence line had taken a beating from cattle pushing against a weak section near the north pasture.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing worth calling an emergency.

Just enough loosened boards and tired posts to need a man’s back, a hammer, and a few hours of sweat after the worst of the day’s heat had passed.

That was fine by Gordon.

He liked work nobody praised.

It felt honest.

Behind him, closer to the heart of the ranch, life moved with the busy rhythm that had become normal around here.

It was past six now, late enough for the children to be back from school in town, late enough for the working day to begin softening around the edges, but not late enough for Stanley Ranch to go quiet.

It rarely went quiet anymore.

Not since Luke and Edye had started expanding.

A truck rolled past, kicking up dust as it headed toward one of the newer family houses. One of the newer ranch hands lifted a hand from behind the wheel. His wife sat beside him, turned halfway around to say something to the two children in the back seat.

Gordon lifted his hand in return.

The man nodded, friendly enough.

Friendly enough was what most people gave Gordon.

He had learned to accept it without reaching for more.

Another truck came in from the main road.

Dwight Hayes was behind the wheel, one arm hooked out the open window, his face set in that serious, thinking expression he wore most days.

Beside him, Mari’s dark hair pulled back, sunglasses pushed up on top of her head.

She said something and Dwight turned his head just enough for a smile to break through.

It changed his whole face.

Gordon looked away before it felt like spying.

A few yards behind the truck, Luis came jogging out of the direction of the stable office with his backpack slung over one shoulder and a paper in his hand.

School had only been back in session a short while, but he already looked like he had opinions about homework and exactly how much of it was unreasonable.

He was sixteen now and was starting to talk to girls, Dwight was constantly in a panic which got worse when anyone mentioned that he would have to deal with boys coming by and calling his daughter when she hit the same age.

Earl called to Luis about slowing down before he tripped over his own feet.

Luis grinned and kept going.

Gordon couldn’t help the faint pull at the corner of his mouth.

That boy had taken to the ranch like he had been born with dust on his boots.

Near the main house, Nia’s laughter carried bright and high across the distance. Gordon turned before he thought better of it.

She was on the porch steps with Malik following after her, his small legs moving too fast for the rest of him.

Nia still had her school backpack on, even though one strap hung halfway off her shoulder.

She held up a paper like it was a prize, and Brenda Jackson stood nearby, She leaned down, studying Nia’s paper with the seriousness of a teacher who knew every crooked letter, every pasted shape, and every shaky line of pencil deserved respect.

Her smile was warm. Patient. Easy.

Gordon had not known her long, but she already looked like she belonged there.

Some people came to Stanley Ranch and had to find their place.

Some people stepped onto the land and the place seemed to make room for them.

Brenda was the second kind.

The learning center had come at the perfect time, but soon it would be a full- fledged charter school for the ranch households.

A black truck rolled in from the ranch road and slowed near the house.

Gordon glanced toward it.

Dr. Foxx climbed out, dressed like someone who had come straight from the clinic and made the half-hour drive without wasting a minute.

It was close to six now, maybe a little after.

That fit. Sterling kept clinic hours until at least five-thirty most days then he came here unless he and Brenda were staying at their house in town.

Brenda spotted him before he made it to the porch.

The change in her was small, but Gordon saw it even from where he stood.

Her shoulders softened. Her smile deepened.

Sterling removed his sunglasses, and for a second, the doctor looked less like Sunset Springs’ calm, respected OBGYN and more like a man walking toward the woman he had spent far too many years missing.

Shortly after she and Ms. Marsha moved into a cottage, Sterling proposed and their engagement lasted a year before they finally flew to Vegas and got hitched.

Gordon turned back to the fence and hammered the next nail harder than necessary.

The sharp crack split the evening air.

Across the pasture, cattle lifted their heads, decided he wasn’t interesting, and went back to grazing.

He had almost finished securing the rail when another sound drifted from the direction of the cabins. Children’s voices. A woman calling for someone to wash up before supper. A door closing. A younger child whining that he wasn’t dirty when he very clearly had to be.

The ranch was changing.

It wasn’t just cowboys and cattle anymore. It was wives, children, school runs, doctor visits, extra laundry, homework, meal planning, and the kind of noise that came from people settling in instead of passing through.

Luke and Edye had not just grown the ranch.

They had grown a community.

Gordon had spent part of the afternoon hauling supplies to one of the family houses where a new hand and his people were still getting settled.

The place smelled of fresh paint, cardboard boxes, and somebody’s supper already simmering in a slow cooker.

A little girl had stood in the doorway clutching a stuffed horse and staring at Gordon like she was trying to decide whether he was scary or simply tall.

He had tipped his hat to her.

She had hidden behind her mother.

He understood the instinct.

Sometimes he wanted to hide from Gordon Windgate too.

“Windgate!”

Gordon looked over his shoulder.

Eli came walking toward him from the direction of the finished learning center, hat low, stride steady, work shirt dusty across the front. He moved like he had nothing to prove to anybody because he had already proven it where it counted.

Rose walked beside him.

She was smiling.

That was the first thing most people would notice. Rose had one of those smiles that could brighten a room, soften hard men, and make strangers feel like she had been waiting just to see them. It was part charm, part survival, part something purely hers.

But Gordon and most of the ranch knew that she and Eli had been trying to get pregnant and nothing had come from it yet. Gordon could only imagine how she must feel with so many children on the ranch now.

Rose’s hand rested lightly at her middle, not protective exactly, but thoughtful. Eli said something, and she laughed a beat late.

Just a beat.

Eli noticed too. His gaze flicked to her, quiet and searching. He did not interrupt her smile. He did not expose the sadness tucked beneath it. He simply reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

Gordon looked down at the hammer in his hand.

Some pain came with an audience.

Some pain sat beside you at supper and smiled at everybody else.

“You about done over here?” Eli asked when they reached him.

“Yes, sir.” Gordon straightened. “This section’s solid now. I’ll walk the rest and see if anything else needs replacing.”

Eli gave the repaired fence a careful look, then nodded. “Good work.”

Two words.

That was all.

Gordon hated how much they meant.

“Appreciate it,” he said, keeping his voice even.

Rose stepped closer to the fence and ran her hand over the new rail. “Looks better than it did yesterday. I thought one strong sneeze from a cow was going to take the whole thing down.”

Eli’s mouth twitched. “You been around a lot of sneezing cows?”

“I live on a ranch now. I’m expanding my education.”

Gordon smiled before he could stop himself.

Rose caught it, and her eyes warmed. “See? Gordon agrees with me.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Gordon said.

“You smiled. That counts.”

Eli looked between them, his expression mild. “Don’t let her pull you into foolishness. It starts with sneezing cows and ends with you moving furniture in the cottage because she woke up with a vision.”