Chapter 8 Connor
Connor
It turned out the creek where the bonfire was taking place was the namesake of the town.
I wasn’t sure if partying on Hell Creek felt like a good or bad omen, but I wasn’t terribly worried about it either.
Superstition never held much sway over me.
What I was worried about was getting caught.
But the guys seemed convinced and Larry was trustworthy.
I figured it was worth the risk to have just one night of normal.
We snuck out after dark, following a narrow trail through the pasture that led to a small copse of trees along the creek.
The sound of music and laughter drifted toward us before we even saw the glow of the fire.
My pulse quickened, not from fear, but from a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety.
It had been so long since I’d been in a normal social situation that I wasn’t sure I remembered how to act.
“Come on, slowpoke,” Joey called back to me, already several yards ahead with the others. “The beer’s getting warm!”
I picked up my pace, ducking under a low-hanging branch as we emerged into a small clearing by the creek.
The scene that greeted me was almost painfully nostalgic.
About twenty people gathered around a crackling bonfire, red cups in hand, country music playing from a portable speaker.
Some ranch hands I recognized from Nelson Ranch were there, along with a few local women.
Evelyn waved to us from where she sat on a log, a plaid blanket wrapped around her shoulders. I hadn’t expected her to bet there.
“Boys! You made it,” she called, her face lighting up. She patted the space next to her, and Sam practically sprinted to claim it.
I hung back, taking in the scene. The firelight danced across the water, stars reflected in the dark surface of the creek. Above us, the night sky stretched endlessly, no prison walls or ceiling to block the view. Just like I’d told the guys. This was what I’d missed most.
“Beer’s in the cooler,” one of the hands I didn’t recognize said, nodding toward a large blue cooler near the fire. “Help yourselves. It’s cheap, but it’s wet.”
Joey and Kyle didn’t need to be told twice. They descended on the cooler like they hadn’t seen alcohol in years—which, to be fair, they probably hadn’t. Greg followed at a more measured pace, while Darius immediately struck up a conversation with a pretty brunette sitting on a fallen log.
I made my way over to the cooler, grabbing a beer more for something to do with my hands than any real desire to drink. Seven years of sobriety in prison had killed my tolerance, and the last thing I needed was to get sloppy drunk and do something stupid that would land me back inside.
“Not drinking?” Evelyn asked as I settled onto a log near her, twisting the cap off but not taking a sip.
“Just pacing myself,” I replied with a small smile.
She nodded approvingly. “Smart man. These boys,” she gestured toward where Sammy was already doing shots with some of the Nelson hands, “don’t know when to quit sometimes.”
The fire crackled and popped, sending sparks spiraling up toward the stars.
For a while, I was content just to sit and observe, letting the ambience wash over me.
People laughing, flirting, telling stories.
No guards watching, no rigid schedule to follow.
Just the night and the fire and the freedom to be.
“So, how are you adjusting to life at McGrath Ranch after a month now?” Evelyn asked, her eyes kind in the firelight.
I shifted on the log, considering my answer. “Better than I expected. The work’s good. Keeps me busy.”
“Ranchin’ is hard,” she said, lowering her voice. “But the work you boys do there is honest. That counts for something.”
I nodded, watching as Sam took another shot, his face already flushed with alcohol. I made a mental note to keep an eye on him. The kid was a walking disaster waiting to happen.
“Cole and Jesse should be here soon,” Evelyn continued, following my gaze. “They’re just finishing up some paperwork. Wedding stuff, you know.”
“Right,” I said, remembering our conversation at church. “You mentioned they were getting married.”
Her face softened. “Those two fought it for so long. Especially Cole. But sometimes the heart knows what it wants, even when the head’s too stubborn to listen.”
Something about her words struck a chord in me, but I pushed the feeling away. My situation was nothing like theirs. Whatever I felt for Ryder—attraction, frustration, desire—it wasn’t something I could act on. Not with everything at stake.
The music changed to something slower, more melodic. A few couples got up to dance in the space between the fire and the creek, their shadows stretching long against the trees. I watched them, feeling oddly disconnected, like I was observing a ritual from another world.
“You should dance,” Evelyn nudged my arm gently. “Might do you some good.”
I snorted. “I haven’t danced in... hell, I don’t even remember.”
“Like riding a bike,” she assured me with a wink. “Besides, Sarah over there has been eyeing you since you arrived.”
I followed her gaze to a woman sitting across the fire, who quickly looked away when she caught me looking. She was pretty in an understated way, but I felt nothing. No spark, no interest. Just the same emptiness I’d felt every time I’d tried to force myself to be attracted to women.
“Not my type,” I said simply.
Evelyn studied me for a moment, her eyes knowing. “Well, there are all kinds of people here tonight.” Her tone made it clear she understood exactly what I wasn’t saying. “Maybe you’ll find someone.”
I took a small sip of my beer, letting the bitter taste linger on my tongue. It had been so long since I’d had alcohol that even this cheap beer tasted like luxury.
The sound of engines approaching made everyone pause. For a terrifying moment, I thought it might be Pete coming to bust us all and send me back to prison. But the tension broke when someone called out, “It’s just the Nelson boys!”
Relief washed through me, followed by a different kind of tension when another engine, higher-pitched and more aggressive, joined the first. That wasn’t a truck.
It sounded like an ATV. I tensed, setting my beer down and straightening my back.
I’d know that engine anywhere after a month at McGrath Ranch.
“Shit,” Joey muttered, appearing suddenly at my side. “It’s Ryder.”
Sure enough, the ATV burst into the clearing, and there he was, illuminated by the firelight.
Ryder McGrath in all his glory, looking like sin personified in tight jeans and a button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and nearly all the buttons undone.
His strawberry blonde hair was slightly tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it, and his green eyes reflected the flames as they scanned the gathering.
And then they found me.
A slow, predatory smile spread across his face, and I felt my stomach drop.
This was exactly what I’d been hoping to avoid.
I’d been doing well keeping my distance since our confrontation in the barn, managing to stay professional and detached whenever our paths crossed.
But here, away from the ranch, away from Pete’s watchful eye, all bets were off.
“Don’t worry,” Joey said, clapping my shoulder. “We’ve got your back, remember?”
I nodded stiffly, not taking my eyes off Ryder as he killed the engine and hopped off the ATV with practiced ease. He greeted a few people, his charm on full display as he worked his way through the crowd. But his trajectory was clear. He was headed straight for me.
“Hey, Evelyn,” Ryder said warmly as he reached us, giving the older woman a quick hug. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Where else would I be?” she chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on these hooligans.”
Ryder’s eyes slid to me, that maddening smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Connor. Surprised to see you here. Didn’t peg you for the party type.”
I shrugged, determined to remain casual. “Needed some fresh air.”
“Well, I’m glad you came out,” he said, and the double entendre wasn’t lost on me. “Makes the night more interesting.”
Evelyn glanced between us, eyebrows raised slightly. Then she stood, brushing off her jeans. “I better go check on Sam before he drinks himself into next week. You boys behave yourselves.”
As she walked away, Ryder immediately took her place on the log, sitting closer to me than was strictly necessary. I could smell his cologne again, that expensive woody scent that had haunted my dreams more than once.
“Your dad know you’re here?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.
Ryder laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Hell no. I snuck out.”
“Snuck out? What are you, fifteen?”
“Twenty-two,” he replied without missing a beat. “But living with my father is like being under house arrest. You should understand that feeling.”
I did understand it, more than he knew. But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.
“So, you crashed the party just to annoy me?” I asked, keeping my voice low so others wouldn’t hear.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” His knee brushed against mine, the contact sending an unwelcome jolt through my body. “I come to these bonfires whenever I can slip away. It has nothing to do with you.”
I took another small sip of my beer, using the moment to collect myself. The firelight caught in his hair, turning it to burnished copper, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. It wasn’t fair for someone to look like that, to be that beautiful and that infuriating at the same time.
“You’re staring,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a register that made my skin prickle.
“No, I’m not.” I looked away quickly, fixing my gaze on the dancing flames. “I don’t want anything to do with you either. I made that pretty clear I think.”