Chapter 41
Chapter forty-one
Found Your Love
Cheyenne
The arena lights were on when we got back to Mercenary Ranch.
“They must be practicin’.”
I’m sure that was all Maverick’s doing. Cash was one of those annoyingly talented people who could fuck off all day long, then kick ass the minute he set his mind on it. Then there was Maverick.
Maverick, who didn’t strive for good. Didn’t strive for great…but perfection. Maverick was the kind of person who mastered every single thing he did. I wish I had the patience for that, but my mind just got tired after a while.
“Wanna watch Uncle Mav and Funcle Cash ride, Cason?” Charlie called over her shoulder.
I watched Cason bob his head up and down excitedly in the rear-view mirror. “Can we get Dutch and Brandy first?”
If Cason was home, it was more than likely the three of them were together. So, after swinging by the houses to grab the dogs, we made our way to the barn and parked beside the old ranch truck.
A familiar, harsh and gravelly tone sliced through the warm night like a blade as he spewed a whole string of curses, bringing a smile to my face. Looked like Bad was here. An answering chuckle, and a voice completely opposite—smooth and suave, with an undercurrent of arrogance. Goodie.
I always enjoyed any time Goodie and Bad were together. They’re dynamic was so intriguing, so amusing. Bad was brash, unapologetic, and rough around the edges, while Goodie was tempered, diplomatic, a true businessman.
“Well, look who decided to join us. Or are you too cool for us now, Mister Cason?” Bad turned from his spot atop the pipe-stall. Cash and Maverick were herding a steer through one of the gates on the far end of the arena.
Cason’s cheeks blazed red, and he dipped his head, a muffled, “Sorry,” escaping him.
“Hey, it was your son’s bright idea to sign him up for flag football,” Charlie said, wrapping a reassuring arm around her nephew’s shoulders. She’d made him get rid of the mullet—correction, his school had made him get rid of the mullet—so Cash and Ryder decided, stupidly, to cut his hair for him.
They’d absolutely butchered it, to the point Charlie ended up taking a set of clippers and just buzzing it short. It was still a bit of a shock not seeing his head of dark, chocolatey colored hair, but it did make his blue eyes pop.
Bad’s harsh features warmed into a smile. “I’m just messin’, kid. You ready for your game this weekend?”
Cason nodded, finally meeting Bad’s gaze.
“Good. How ‘bout you go on and get ol’ Peckerhead out of his stall and tack him up? You wanna ride a bit?”
Cason was already sprinting toward the barn before Bad even finished.
I smiled at his retreating figure. He was a cute kid. A good kid. So good it made me worry that I wouldn’t get so lucky. Would my little girl be a sweet little thing like Cason, or a little hell raiser?
Knowing how I was as a child, I’d bet on the latter.
“How’s that little filly comin’?” Bad asked, looking down at me as I settled beside him against the pipe-stall.
I cast a glance at Maverick. If he heard, he made no indication. But he was setting up in the box for the steer Goodie loaded into the chute. A look of pure determination made up his brutally handsome features. I doubted he heard.
I was still annoyed about our little argument earlier, but after having some time to calm down and Charlie to talk some sense into me, I wasn’t bubbling with anger. Maybe just a low simmer.
The truth is, I could have handled the situation better, but I was angry and embarrassed and frustrated.
And worse, I hated that Maverick called me out.
Because I should have noticed her behavior.
I should have gotten my emotions under control before dealing with her.
I’d been frustrated and emotional about Aunt Violet’s damn near constant barrage of phone calls—since she refused to text—about baby names.
And it’s not that I wasn’t grateful, since I didn’t have a mother to share in all of this excitement with, but not gonna lie, it was a bit—okay, a lot—overwhelming.
I glanced at Bad, noting the questioning look on his face. What had he asked me? Oh, yeah…
“The filly’s comin’ along well,” I replied.
“I’m surprised Mav’s even lettin’ you anywhere near her.”
Had Maverick not told him? I was honestly a bit surprised he hadn’t. Maverick and Bad talked. A lot. Far more than I’d expect for someone as quiet as Maverick. But either Bad was just playing dumb, or he genuinely didn’t know about the argument his nephew and I had just gotten into.
“Maverick doesn’t let me do anythin’. I’m breakin’ that filly and I don’t need his permission.”
Bad’s green-gold gaze swirled with amusement. He whistled low before it broke off into a chuckle. “Well, aren’t you fiery, tonight?”
Some of the annoyance from earlier returned, though I didn’t burn as bright as before.
I settled my gaze on the arena and watched Cash and Maverick do a few runs.
They worked together in perfect unison. I’d seen plenty of family members rope together, but there was something almost surreal about how well they complimented each other.
“What’s different about Maverick?” Charlie’s soft, lilting voice gave me pause.
I looked at him with a more assessing eye.
That’s when I noticed it.
My heart stopped. Skipped a whole damn beat, or maybe even three.
He wasn’t wearing a long-sleeve. Nope, it was nothing more than a simple black cotton t-shirt, his muscled arms on full display. I couldn’t make out the scars from the distance, but I could imagine them in my mind, like I’d memorized every beautiful ridge and canyon.
Pride and happiness surged to life in my heart.
What had made him change? When I left, he’d been wearing a long-sleeve. But it was hot out still. Maybe he’d decided to stop being self-conscious and change into something more comfortable. Even if it was only in front of his family.
But the fact he was even wearing a t-shirt at all chased away any lingering annoyance I felt. I wanted to run out into the arena, pull him down from Black Betty, and kiss him stupid.
My cheeks hurt from how wide my smile pulled on my face as I said, “He’s not wearin’ a long-sleeve.”
“That’s it?” Charlie asked, before nodding to herself. “I guess you’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in anything but long-sleeves.”
I didn’t look at her as I spoke. No, my gaze was glued to Maverick. “It’s because of the scars.”
“Oh, from the accident.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.
Bad’s gravelly voice managed to pull my gaze from my hot as hell boyfriend. “I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve even seen a glimpse of ‘em.” He looked at me, wonder and a bit of awe in his gaze. “I don’t know what you’ve done to that boy, but I like it.”
Charlie smiled and nudged me. “Look at you working your magic on him.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “It ain’t magic, just confidence.”
The truth is, I wasn’t doing anything to Maverick other than loving him, appreciating him, showing him with my words and my body how truly amazing he was.
He was the one with the magic in him, I just gave him a reason to shine.
Charlie and I hung around as the roping practice turned into a lesson for Cason.
All four men took turns offering him bits of advice, though the most vocal by far were Bad and Maverick.
While they both had different methods—Bad was more concerned about the overall experience, whereas Maverick was zoned in on tweaking the small details—the two taught well together, complementing one another’s strengths and weaknesses.
Bad had a short temper and attention span; Maverick was calmer, but tended to get a little too hyper fixated on individual issues.
I knew they were related, not by blood… But it still surprised me how similar they were.
By the time Cason’s lesson ended, it was nearly nine.
“Alight, bud. I think we should call it a night,” Charlie called from my side. “You still got school tomorrow.”
Cason had just slid out of the saddle when a car with blinding headlights tore up the dirt road toward the barn.
“Who the fuck is that this late at night?” Bad grumbled, his brow furrowing.
I glanced at Cash. “One of yours?”
He clutched a hand to his chest, mock horror coating his features. “You act like I have so many.”
“You do,” Maverick, Charlie and I managed to all say at once. Nice.
“Y’all are assholes.” Cash feigned indignation.
Maverick nudged him with his shoulder as the two walked their horses out of the arena. “Takes one to know one.”
Cash’s bray of laughter was enough to make Black Betty snort and toss her head. But his laughter died as quickly as it started, his usually light, warm gaze, turning dark and cold. I followed his stare, confusion gnawing at me, to fix on the person stepping out of the car.
Maverick stood ramrod straight, a look of disbelief flashing in his eyes. My heart stopped beating all together for a long moment, my lungs seizing.
I didn’t need an introduction.
This was Ashleigh.
I don’t know what exactly I was expecting, but my vision of the infamous Ashleigh wasn’t this.
She was tall—very tall—with long, willowy arms and legs.
Her hair was as black as a starless sky, and stick straight as it brushed against her hips.
She was pale, a stark contrast to her dark, grunge-inspired outfit.
I’d never expected Maverick with anyone but a cowgirl.
“Well, if it isn’t Smashleigh… I see you crawled back out of hell.” Cash recovered the quickest of everyone as he sauntered toward her. A mean, malicious spark flickered in his gaze, revealing an angry, hateful side of him I honestly hadn’t expected. Didn’t even think he was capable of.