Wilder Heart (Blackwood Ranch)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

CASH

I t wasn’t often that Cash was called into the boss’s office in the middle of the day, but he would soon learn that today was a day for new experiences. His cell phone didn’t have much reception out in the fields of Blackwood Ranch, but as he rode his horse, Hexie, back toward civilization, it eventually picked up a signal, vibrating in his breast pocket as he came down the hill toward the big white horse barn. He took his time, taking one last breath of the fresh air.

The blue sky seemed to carry on for eternity, and the rolling Montana hills looked like a stretching cat, rising to meet it. The summer season was half over, which meant it was time to start looking toward winter. The other ranch hands would be running the combines in the corn and legume fields soon to harvest the winter feed. Toward the end of the summer, they would move the cattle to a closer field. It was better to keep them closer to home when the unpredictable winter weather hit.

He left Hexie in the hands of a capable groom and dug his phone from his pocket, lifting his straw hat off his head to wipe away the sweat that had gathered under the brim on his forehead.

Lain

Come to my office when you get back. Need to discuss something.

Cash hummed. It was unusual, but it could be any number of things. He pocketed his phone and headed for the farmhouse. The house itself wasn’t that big, with two stories and a front porch that the boss’s wife, Mary-Beth, kept immaculately clean. The boss’s office was in a smaller, older barn beside the house. It was the very first barn built on the property, according to Lain. Bit by bit, as the ranch found success, Lain and Mary-Beth added on. Now there were barns dotted all over the ten thousand acre ranch. Barns for the livestock, the horses, the tractors, the equipment. A bunkhouse for the ranch hands, which they’d been steadily hiring for the last eight years since Lain incidentally became the sole owner of Blackwood Ranch. He’d been incredibly young when he inherited everything.

Apparently it was a huge scandal when it happened. Cash tried not to pay much attention to gossip, but small towns like Roselake thrived on it. Lain had a brother, and their dad had been some kind of worthless drunk. They got into it one night, and the next thing anyone knew, Alan Blackwood was dead, and Lain’s brother was being carted off to prison for murder. Curiosity had damn near killed Cash after he heard about it, but he’d never had the heart to bring it up to Lain, who was fairly drowning in responsibility when they met almost a year later. And it never felt right to pry about something that was obviously a sore subject. Cash was there to do a job, and if Lain didn’t want to share, that was fine by him.

Cash had been his first hire, in fact. Seven years ago, Cash was a twenty-five-year-old nomad, traveling from ranch to ranch and living out of a camper—which was parked behind the bunkhouse now, gathering dust. He’d seen the ad online for help at Blackwood Ranch, and something about the wording of it had made him reach out. The owner sounded desperate. As it turned out, the owner was an eighteen-year-old kid who was in over his head and about to lose the place if he didn’t find a way to turn a profit. Cash had agreed to help for one year in exchange for a permanent spot to park his camper. That first year was rough, but at the end of the season, Blackwood Ranch was in the black for the very first time—barely. The second year was a little easier, and now, six years later, Lain was in talks with some local property owners to expand yet again.

When he reached the old barn, which was mostly bare on the inside but for some old ranch memorabilia hanging on the walls, he knocked on Lain’s office door.

“Cash, yeah, come in,” Lain said. He was seated at his desk, his chestnut brown hair mussed as though he’d been running his fingers through it. He sat back in his seat, which squeaked, and passed a hand over his face. “I’ve got a, uh… thing to talk to you about.”

“A thing,” Cash repeated.

“Yeah.” He gestured to one of the leather chairs across from him. “Sit, please. This’ll take some explaining.”

Cash sat, nonplussed, taking his hat off and resting it on his knee. “What’s up?”

Stormy, blue-gray eyes met his. Lain pursed his lips for a long moment, and then said, “You know I have a brother, right?”

Yes, that definitely rang a bell, but he didn’t want to outright admit the people of Roselake still gossiped about the Blackwoods’ history. “I think I recall something about that, yeah.”

“He’s… He’s coming here.”

Cash had a feeling that wasn’t a good thing. Lain looked like he’d rather piss glass than be having this conversation. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I take it that’s bad.”

“Have you ever heard about what happened to him—us?”

Moment of truth. Cash grimaced. “I try not to pay attention to gossip, boss, you know that, but yeah. I’ve heard a little. I’d be interested to hear the truth from you, if that’s where this is headed.”

Lain smiled, mirth competing with the tension lining his face. “Okay, fine. The reason I inherited this place at eighteen was because my dad died, right?”

“Yes, I do remember that.”

“My brother—my twin brother, Wilder—killed him.” He winced.

Cash’s thoughts ground to a halt at that. For once, the rumors were true. They’d always failed to include that Lain and his brother were twins , though. That was new information. He blinked, silently absorbing it all, and to Lain’s credit, he sat back, steepling his hands in front of his mouth and giving Cash time to process.

“I take it he’s been in prison, then,” Cash guessed.

Lain chuckled, another bitter sound that lacked humor. “Yes. He’s getting out for good behavior.”

“Why in the hell is he coming here? What…” Cash stopped, shaking his head. He didn’t know how to finish that last one. What the hell was Lain thinking, letting him? What the hell were they supposed to do with a murderer on the ranch? What could they do to keep him away, if anything? “Why is he coming here? Why are you letting him? Does he want to split ownership of the ranch?”

“No. He wants to work. He’s on parole for two years, the last of his original ten year sentence. He needed a job for when he gets out, so he called me and asked if he could work as a hand. Apparently he’s looked the ranch up over the years and kept an eye on… things. Me, I don’t know.”

“Why? What? I…” Cash stopped again. “I’m sorry.” He laughed. “This has really thrown me for a loop, boss.” He probably should have considered the possibility that the brother would one day return home, but Lain never mentioned him over the last seven years. Cash had always considered the mysterious, estranged brother a nonentity.

“I know, believe me. I thought I had two more years before I had to think about this. I always figured he’d come home. I didn’t think he’d come home so soon.”

“Is he dangerous?” That was the most important question. Mary-Beth was pregnant, and they had a seven-year-old little girl running around, Annalise.

“I don’t think so.”

Cash’s brows lifted. That wasn’t the guarantee he’d hoped to hear.

Lain winced again. “I know. I’m sorry. I haven’t seen or talked to him in eight years, okay? I really don’t know. We were thick as thieves as kids. But we… didn’t part on good terms.”

“I would say fucking not.” Cash ducked his head. “Sorry, boss.”

Lain huffed out a laugh. “It’s fine. I understand why you’re concerned. He was never violent before the—incident, so I have to assume it’s the same now.”

“I don’t understand, Lain.” He rarely used the boss’s first name, but it felt necessary now, given the seriousness of the conversation. This was more than boss and foreman. “Did he just snap? What drove him to kill your father ?”

Lain pursed his lips, looking down at his keyboard. “Our father was… not a good man. He had a drinking problem, and he drove this ranch into the ground when our mother passed. We were too young to really remember her, but he always resented us after that. I think she’s the one who wanted kids, and he just wanted to make her happy. So when she died, and he was left alone with us, something in him broke.”

“Jesus.”

“Wilder always took the worst of it. That last night was… rough. Dad snapped, and then Wilder snapped, too. He was young and strong and so, so angry. I called the police while they were fighting. I knew one of them was going to die, but I didn’t know which one. The cops came, Dad was dead, and Wilder was arrested. And I was left all alone, with a dying ranch and a bloodstain in the living room carpet.”

Cash didn’t know what to say to that. Finally, he found his voice. “He only got ten years for murder?”

Lain bobbed his head. “Crime of passion. Second degree. He was young, and his lawyer argued his case about an abused kid fighting back. They couldn’t deny he’d done it, but they gave him a lighter sentence because of the circumstances surrounding the fight. We both,” he hesitated, then forged on, “had injuries that night, which helped his case.”

There were more emotional scars here than physical ones. Cash delicately asked, “And what do you think about him coming here?” Lain’s opinion was the most important one.

Lain blew out a breath. “I don’t know if I want him here.” He grimaced. “Which I hate to say, but he’s a wild card. I have no idea how this is going to go. We’ll give him a room in the bunkhouse and find him jobs to do around here. As long as he earns his keep and doesn’t cause problems, I’m okay with having him here. I’d prefer to keep my distance, I think, which is why I’m telling you all of this. You’ll be in charge of him. You’ll be spending more time with him than I will. I want you to know everything going in. If you’re uncomfortable or if you think this won’t work, I’d like to know now so I can get him set up somewhere else.”

Cash hesitated. It didn’t seem fair to turn the man away after Lain had already promised him a bed and a job, nor did it seem right to spurn someone who might really be reaching out and wanting to do better for himself. Like Lain said, he was a wild card.

“I don’t want to make any judgments before he gets here,” he said slowly, weighing his opinion as he spoke. “I’m willing to give him a shot. Are you okay with letting me be in charge of keeping him on or firing him if there’s an issue?”

Some of the tension left Lain’s shoulders. “Yeah, actually, that’d be great. I have no idea how I’d go about firing my own brother. That’s not something I was looking forward to—assuming it even has to happen.”

“With luck, it won’t,” Cash agreed. “It’s good to be on the same page, though.”

“Agreed.”

There was really just one more thing Cash needed to know. “When should we expect him?”

Lain blew out a breath. “Friday.”