Chapter 2
Logan
I’m hotter than blazes.
It’s over a hundred degrees, and we’ve been out in the fields since dawn.
My cousin and best friend, Blake Wild, whose parents own the ranch next door to ours, is helping my brothers and me out for the day.
His father and mine share the profits and the labor of our two ranches.
Plus, Blake’s siblings are currently living out of state, and he takes every chance he can get to hang out with me.
Blake grimaces as he steadies the fence post while I hammer in the last nail. “I think I got a fucking splinter.”
“Aw, poor baby,” Reid, my brother closest to me in age, says mockingly.
Lightning fast, Blake grabs the hammer out of my hand and hurls it at Reid, who catches it effortlessly with an arrogant smirk.
I resist a familiar urge to pop Reid one. My brothers and I fight more than we get along. If Blake weren’t here, I’d have lost my temper about ten times already today.
Reid flashes a lazy smile at the death looks Blake and I give him, and then the cocky bastard hops back onto his horse. “Let’s do one ride around the back field before we head to the barn. This summer heat sucks.”
We’ve spent the day’s hours fixing fences and moving cattle between Wild Ranch and my cousins’ neighboring ranch. But all I really want to do is sit in my one-bedroom cottage on the edge of my family’s property and paint.
My dad calls it, “that crazy painting hobby of yours.”
My “crazy hobby” has been my passion since I was a kid.
And my two-room cottage at the edge of Wild Ranch is my sanctuary where I live and paint after a long day of rounding up cattle or goats or sheep.
Ranching is in my blood, but other than bronc riding, I can barely stand to put in a full day’s work without cutting out a bit early.
And no matter how many talks I’ve tried to have with my father over our differences, Roy Wild stubbornly refuses to see me as anything but a cowboy.
“Logan, let’s go!” Reid calls out from atop his horse. “We still need to get the feed.”
I give the fence one last tug to make sure it’s secure, and then, I spin and take one stride before I slip a boot into the stirrup and swing my body up into the saddle—as easy as getting out of bed in the morning.
I nudge Dexter to follow Reid and Blake and wipe the sweat off my brow, grateful for the protection of my cowboy hat. I’d be sunburned far worse right now without it, and a case of sunstroke wouldn’t come close to stopping my father from making sure all four of his sons put in a day’s work.
As Blake, Reid, and I reach the far field, I glance in the direction of The Cowherd Whiskey Saloon & Chapel. I scan the distant porch and lone picnic table nestled underneath the large oak tree. No sign of Macey.
If there’s one thing I’d give up painting for tonight, or really any night, it’s to hang out with my best friend.
Although between myself and Dexter, I have to admit I want more than just talking tonight.
No matter how many ways I try to forget her, no woman lights me up the way my sassy next-door neighbor does.
I haven’t made love to Macey in nearly a year. I know the rules—hell, we made them together. And I’d do it again. Because if I’m honest with myself, it’s all I can give. I’m a cowboy through and through, and I ride without worrying about the fall.
But love is different than cowboy life. I watched my parents long enough to realize that even a good ride ends. And no commitment means no pain when the inevitable break-up happens.
I reluctantly turn away from the saloon and follow Reid across the pasture. Blake, who’s riding about five lengths ahead, glances over his shoulder and grins at me. “Beat you there,” he says before taking off at a gallop.
I urge Dexter to race after them. He kicks into high gear for the last hundred yards, and we just pass by Reid and Blake, coming to a stop outside the barn.
“Hey.” Luke Wild, my cousin from Montana who’s in town visiting with his brother, Chase, waves to us from just inside the barn. His dark hair is damp with sweat as he takes off his cowboy hat. “Chase and I picked up the feed and unloaded it.”
“Thanks,” I say gratefully. “You saved us another hour of work.”
I jump down and lead Dexter over to the water hose. Within a few minutes, Jesse and Ty, my other two brothers, join us. We untack and take care of the horses, all the while trying to convince Luke and Chase to stay in town for the night.
“If you drive back now, you’ll get caught in traffic up in Austin,” Reid says. “Have dinner up at the house, and get an early start in the morning.”
I know something that will keep Luke around, at least for the short term.
“Since we’re done for the day, I’m thinking of taking a turn on Prince,” I say casually.
“Woo-hoo.” Blake flicks his gaze to Luke. “Bronc riding was your specialty.”
Luke shrugs noncommittally. But I know my cousin better than that. All the Wild cowboys know our way around a rodeo, but Luke was the most committed bronc rider I’ve ever seen. And then one day, his dream was taken from him.
We all head for the rodeo pen at the back of the property with Blake and Chase making a bet on how long I can stay on Prince this time.
“You haven’t competed much this year,” Blake says. “And even though Prince is easier than a random bronc they’ll give you at the rodeo, he still isn’t like riding your Harley.”
Luke chuckles.
“I can still ride,” I say. “Don’t underestimate me.”
Bronc riding is definitely dangerous, but I took to it as a teenager, and I’ve competed in a bunch of local rodeos. Despite the time it takes me away from ranch work, my dad doesn’t mind because it’s free advertising for Wild Ranch.
We have a few broncs we loan out to local riders. We take good care of them, and once they’re done with the rodeo, they live peacefully into old age on our ranch.
Prince is still in his prime, and he’s my favorite bronc to practice with. I can’t compete with him, but he’s been a great partner nonetheless.
When we reach the pen, I find the ranch hand was just about to turn him out into the field for the night.
“Just one ride,” I tell him.
Ty and Jesse help me onto Prince, and the bronc is raring to go. I slide my hand into the rigging, all while the gate’s still locked.
I’m concentrating on what I’m about to do because, as much as I’m a casual rodeo guy, riding a bronc and staying healthy is no joke. It requires all my focus. One look at Luke’s scar makes me never forget how easily one second can go wrong in a rodeo ring.
“Hey,” Blake says quietly to me.
I glance down at him. “Yeah?”
“Your girl’s here.”
I look over the gate.
Macey’s leaning over the top rail of the fence. Her dark hair is loose and flowing around her flushed face. Her whiskey-colored eyes are focused on me, and I can just make out the way her pink lips are half-parted in anticipation.
She’s so beautiful my chest aches.
“She’s not mine,” I say automatically.
“Maybe not, but she’s only got eyes for you,” Luke says from my other side.
I don’t tell him how that fact changes nothing between us.
Macey Henwood isn’t mine. She’s a wild mare who doesn’t belong to anyone.
But right now, I’ve got her full attention. So…I’m going to make sure I show her one hell of a ride.