The Cowboy's Boy (Blackthorn Ranch Hearts #1)

Chapter 1 Welcome to Blackthorn Ranch

A Summer Sentence

If someone had told me six months ago that I would spend my summer on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, I would have laughed in their face.

Actually, I probably would have been sitting in a campus coffee shop with my sketchbook open, pretending to work while watching people pass by the window. I would have been thinking about my next art project, my next class, my next weekend with friends.

Instead, I was trapped inside my uncle's dusty pickup truck, driving through endless stretches of countryside that seemed determined to prove civilization had officially ended.

The road stretched ahead like a faded ribbon beneath the hot June sun. Fields rolled across the landscape in every direction. Fences cut through the grasslands. Clusters of trees appeared every few miles before disappearing again.

I stared out the passenger-side window and tried not to think about everything that had gone wrong.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much else to do.

My phone had no signal.

The radio station kept fading in and out.

And my uncle had barely spoken for the last hour.

That silence was almost worse than the lecture.

Almost.

"You know," Uncle David finally said, gripping the steering wheel tighter, "when your mother called me, I thought she was exaggerating."

I closed my eyes.

Here we go.

"Uncle David—"

"No. Let me finish."

I sighed quietly and rested my forehead against the cool glass.

The truck rattled over a pothole.

"I thought maybe you'd gotten one bad grade. Maybe two." His voice remained calm, which somehow made it worse. "I didn't think you failed enough classes to lose your academic standing."

Heat crawled into my cheeks.

I hated talking about it.

Mostly because he was right.

The worst part wasn't failing.

The worst part was knowing exactly how I'd ended up there.

I wasn't stupid.

I wasn't lazy.

I just hadn't been okay.

The breakup with Ethan had hit harder than I wanted to admit. What started as heartbreak slowly turned into months of exhaustion, anxiety, and complete lack of motivation. I'd stopped attending classes regularly. Assignments piled up. Deadlines passed.

Every day I promised myself I would fix everything tomorrow.

Tomorrow never came.

Then the semester ended.

Reality arrived.

And suddenly everyone was disappointed.

My parents.

My professors.

My uncle.

Most of all, myself.

"I know I messed up," I said quietly.

The truck continued down the dirt road.

For a moment I thought he might let the subject go.

Instead he shook his head.

"You're twenty-one years old, Oliver. Not fifteen."

That one landed.

Because I knew exactly what he meant.

At twenty-one, people expected you to have your life together.

At twenty-one, you weren't supposed to fall apart over your first serious relationship.

At twenty-one, you weren't supposed to fail an entire semester.

I folded my arms across my chest.

"I said I know."

Another silence settled between us.

This one lasted longer.

Eventually my uncle sighed.

"I'm not trying to punish you."

I almost laughed.

It certainly felt like punishment.

Three months on a ranch.

No friends.

No city.

No art studios.

No coffee shops.

No escape.

According to my uncle, hard work would help me "find perspective."

According to me, hard work mostly sounded like sweat and misery.

"I just think getting away might be good for you," he continued.

I looked out the window again.

Maybe he believed that.

Maybe everyone believed that.

But right now it felt like I was being shipped off because nobody knew what else to do with me.

The scenery changed as the truck climbed a gentle hill.

Beyond it, vast open land spread toward the horizon.

The view would have been beautiful if I wasn't busy feeling sorry for myself.

Golden grass swayed beneath the wind.

A small creek cut through part of the property.

In the distance I spotted horses grazing beneath a stand of cottonwood trees.

Despite everything, the artist in me noticed the colors immediately.

The warm gold of the fields.

The rich green of the trees.

The brilliant blue sky overhead.

My fingers twitched instinctively.

I wished I had my sketchbook in my lap.

Then I remembered it was buried somewhere in my luggage.

"Almost there," Uncle David said.

My stomach sank.

Great.

I wasn't ready.

I didn't know who I was meeting.

I didn't know where I'd be sleeping.

I didn't know what kind of work I was expected to do.

All I knew was that the ranch belonged to one of my uncle's oldest friends.

Apparently that friendship was the reason I wasn't spending the summer flipping burgers somewhere.

The truck rounded another curve.

A wooden sign appeared ahead.

BLACKTHORN RANCH

The large painted letters stood out against weathered wood.

Beyond the entrance stretched acres of fenced land.

My pulse quickened.

This was real.

No backing out now.

We passed through the gates.

A long gravel road led toward several buildings.

The main ranch house sat at the center.

Nearby stood multiple barns, storage sheds, corrals, and equipment yards.

Workers moved between buildings.

Horses crossed one of the distant paddocks.

Everything looked larger than I expected.

Busier too.

The place felt alive.

Like its own small world.

The truck continued forward.

Dust swirled behind us.

My nerves grew stronger with every passing second.

I wasn't good with strangers.

I wasn't good with new situations.

And right now I felt completely out of place.

The closer we got, the more obvious that became.

The ranch hands wore jeans, boots, and work shirts.

I wore sneakers and a faded college hoodie.

They looked like they belonged here.

I looked like someone who had taken a wrong turn.

The truck finally slowed near the main barn.

My uncle parked and turned off the engine.

Silence filled the cab.

For a second neither of us moved.

Then he looked at me.

"Give it a chance."

I swallowed.

Easy for him to say.

He got to leave.

I was staying.

Still, I nodded.

Because arguing wouldn't change anything.

I reached for the door handle and stepped out into the summer heat.

The air smelled different here.

Fresh grass.

Dust.

Leather.

Horses.

Everything felt bigger somehow.

The sky.

The land.

The silence.

I grabbed my backpack and turned toward the barn.

That's when I saw him.

A man stood near the large open doors.

Tall.

Broad-shouldered.

Powerful.

His worn black hat cast a shadow across part of his face.

Dark tattoos disappeared beneath the sleeves of a fitted black T-shirt.

His arms looked strong enough to lift half the ranch by themselves.

A pair of faded jeans hung low on narrow hips.

Scuffed boots completed the picture.

He wasn't smiling.

In fact, he looked like smiling might physically hurt him.

His expression was hard.

Unreadable.

Intimidating.

For a moment his gaze locked onto mine.

The distance between us suddenly felt much smaller.

Something tightened inside my chest.

Not attraction.

Not yet.

Just awareness.

The sharp realization that this man was unlike anyone I'd ever met.

He studied me for a long second.

Then his eyes moved briefly over my hoodie, my sneakers, and my luggage.

When his gaze returned to my face, absolutely nothing about his expression softened.

If anything, he looked even less impressed.

A strange nervousness settled in my stomach.

I had no idea who he was.

But somehow I knew.

This had to be Ryder Cole.

And judging by the cold stare currently aimed in my direction, my summer at Blackthorn Ranch was about to become a lot more difficult.

The City Boy

The first thing I noticed about Oliver Hayes was that he looked completely lost.

He stood beside David's truck with a backpack hanging from one shoulder, blinking against the afternoon sun like he'd been dropped onto another planet.

The kid was skinny in the way city boys often were.

Not weak exactly, but untested. His faded hoodie looked too warm for the weather, and his sneakers would last about two days before the ranch chewed them up.

I crossed my arms and watched him from outside the barn.

David climbed out of the truck and stretched his back. The man had been one of my closest friends for nearly twenty years. We weren't the type to call each other every week, but when something mattered, we showed up.

Which was exactly why I was standing there now.

Unfortunately.

David spotted me and raised a hand.

"Ryder."

I nodded.

"David."

Oliver glanced between us.

The kid had soft features that made him look younger than twenty-one. Light brown hair fell over his forehead from the long drive. His eyes were wide and uncertain as he took in the ranch around him.

Everything about him screamed outsider.

Blackthorn Ranch wasn't a place for uncertainty.

It was a working ranch. Horses didn't care if you were tired. Fences didn't repair themselves. Feed didn't magically appear in troughs.

You either worked or you got left behind.

Simple as that.

David walked toward me.

"Thanks again for this."

I looked at Oliver before turning my attention back to him.

"Still not sure it's a good idea."

David sighed.

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do."

The kid pretended not to listen while clearly listening to every word.

I lowered my voice anyway.

"He's never worked a ranch a day in his life."

"I know."

"He's wearing sneakers."

David rubbed a hand over his face.

"I know that too."

"Then explain to me why you thought this was smart."

For a second, David didn't answer.

When he finally spoke, some of the frustration left his expression.

"Because he needs it."

That caught my attention.

I glanced toward Oliver again.

The kid was staring at the horses in a nearby paddock.

Something about the way he looked at them seemed genuine.

Curious.

Interested.

Not bored.

Still, curiosity didn't build character.

Work did.

"What happened?" I asked.

David released a long breath.

"He failed a semester."

I raised an eyebrow.

"College?"

"Yeah."

I waited.