5. Wyatt
CHAPTER 5
Wyatt
DIAL DRUNK
I’m already grabbing my rope and urging my horse, Joker, into an all-out sprint when Sawyer shouts, “You got her, Wyatt?”
“Oh, I got her.”
Joker and I make a beeline for the rogue calf who’s apparently intent on driving me up the wall today. This is the second time since sunrise that she’s tried to make a run for it.
Joker’s hooves thunder on the hard-packed earth. My heart thunders in time to his stride. I didn’t get near enough sleep last night, but you wouldn’t know it from the rush of hot, urgent energy coursing through my body.
Squeezing Joker’s sides with my legs, I drop the reins and use both hands to ready the lariat I’ll use to lasso the calf. My shoulders and biceps sing as I take the looped rope in my right hand and whip it in a circle above my head. I hear its whoop, whoop, whoop every time it rotates just above my ears.
“Look at that smile!” Duke yells as I hurtle past him. “Boy, that ain’t gonna last when you miss!”
“I ain’t missing!”
I wish I could say I’m not one to brag, but there’s no use lying. I’m the best damn cowboy this side of the Colorado River. No one can outride or outlasso me. Not even my older brother, Cash, who was basically born with a Stetson on his head and a rope in his hand. Too bad he’s not here to see this. He and Mollie went to Dallas this morning to lay the groundwork for the launch of her next boot collection.
A grin splits my face as Joker and I hit just the right distance from the calf. I release the lariat. My heart leaps into my throat as I wait the split second it takes for the circle of rope to land around the calf’s neck. When it lands, the calf struggles, pulling the rope taut. Joker holds his ground while I leap off him with a happy yell.
The calf struggles. She’s strong, but I’m stronger. Ryder hops off his horse, too, and together, we tie up the calf’s legs with another rope we call the piggin’ string. We give her a few minutes to calm down before we let her loose.
By the time we’re done, I’m covered in sweat and out of breath. The cloud of dust we kicked up has yet to settle, making my eyes sting. But the calf has rejoined the herd and is now merrily munching on some grass.
I can’t stop smiling. “Eat that, motherfucker,” I say to Duke.
He rolls his eyes, the side of his mouth curling into a smirk as he trots closer. “You got lucky.”
“He actually didn’t.” Sawyer puts his hands on his hips. “Wyatt came home alone last night. Saw it with my own eyes.”
Ryder stares at me. “Are you sick?”
“Shut up.” I yank off my hat and wipe my brow on my sleeve. “I was tired, is all. Been a long week.”
“It’s Wednesday.” Ryder blinks.
“So?”
“This have anything to do with Sally?” Duke asks. “I saw y’all dancing last night. Looked…cozy.”
Sawyer screws up one eye against the sun and the dust. “I thought I heard her call you Daddy. ”
Heat crawls up my neck. Sally did call me Daddy, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. My dick throbs at the memory.
I bite back a wince. I’ve been on the verge of a half chub ever since it happened. Kept me up way past my bedtime, wondering if Sally had gone home with Beck after I left.
I wondered if the eager way she’d touched me—the heat in her eyes—was real, or if she really was just faking it to get that dickhead’s attention.
No wonder I smoked like a chimney on the drive home. My chest is still heavy from all the cigarettes I long-darted out my truck’s window. I only smoke when I’m stressed or drinking, but even the occasional cigarette is terrible for you. I need to quit. Go cold turkey.
I tell myself quitting will be easier after Sally leaves for New York. I won’t be so stressed then. Or horny. Or angry with myself for being such a fucking coward and not telling my best friend how I feel. But being honest would mean opening up—risking decimation—and I don’t do that. Avoiding my feelings might not be the smartest way of protecting myself, but it does mean I avoid more hurt.
“We got work to do.” My voice sounds gruff, even to my own ears. I clear my throat. “And y’all remember what Mom said about gossip.”
“ Gossip is the Devil’s radio ,” Sawyer replies.
Duke grins. “ But nature’s telephone .”
My chest twists. Mom had a big heart and was always telling us the importance of kindness, but she also had a wicked sense of humor. I’d like to think I inherited all of that.
God, I miss her.
Grabbing a piece of gum from my saddlebag, I pop it into my mouth and climb back into the saddle. “Don’t make me pull rank, y’all. Let’s get to it.”
Garrett Luck made Cash foreman of Lucky Ranch when my brother was barely twenty years old. Cash was green as a blade of grass—we all were—but Garrett was patient with us, and taught us everything he knew about running a cattle ranch.
I miss him too. His death from a massive heart attack this spring shocked us all; he was only fifty-six and in great shape. Cash took it the hardest, but all of us Rivers boys felt the loss of our adopted father figure acutely.
Sometimes, I wonder if we’re cursed, like every parental figure in our lives is going to be taken away.
Like everyone we love really is going to leave.
When Cash and Mollie became co-owners of the newly created Lucky River Ranch, they made me foreman. My older brother—bless his black heart—left big shoes to fill. He’s a hard-ass, but he’s always been fair, and he pushes us to do our best. He had no problem getting people to take him seriously.
Me, on the other hand? I couldn’t get my brothers to take me seriously if I paid them. And I mean that literally because as their boss, I really do pay them now.
Case in point: Duke snickers at my threat. Ryder climbs back in the saddle, but pulls his phone out of his pocket. Sawyer is on his phone, thumbs flying over the screen. But that’s allowed because he’s got a three-year-old daughter, Ella, at home.
Still, if Cash told the guys to get a move on, they’d get a move on.
“Y’all.”
No one so much as glances my way.
“ Y’all. ”
Only Sawyer looks up at my bark. “Sorry, Wy, just checking in with Ella’s teacher. We’re all good. Back to the barn?”
“Back to the barn. Sawyer, you and I are gonna meet with the farrier. Those clowns”—I motion to the twins—“can muck stalls. ”
Ryder finally looks up from his phone. “Aw, man?—”
“Shoulda listened. I won’t ask again.”
Giving orders is weird. I still haven’t decided if I like being in charge. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the opportunity. And the pay raise. I don’t mind the extra work. But things have changed so much so quickly around here. I wonder if I have what it takes to do Lucky River Ranch justice. I’m a good cowboy. Good brother. Decent poker player too.
But a leader? A boss? I don’t know if I can take myself that seriously. No one else does.
We’ve brought in the herd now that winter’s approaching, so we’re able to ride back to the horse barn since we’re close enough. I don’t mind it one bit. I suck in lungfuls of crisp, cool air as the boys and I cover the distance in a trot. The breeze is refreshing in the best way, drying my sweat. The sun feels good on my shoulders, my back, my thighs.
The land around us is a kaleidoscope of colors. The changing leaves; the flawless, wide-open sky; the pale rise of canyons in the distance—it all makes my heart beat a little faster.
Glancing at Sawyer, I take in his narrowed eyes, the way he chews on his bottom lip. I know he’s thinking about Ella. I also know he’s tired as all get-out, but he’ll never complain because he loves being her dad.
I look at Duke and Ryder, who finally fucking listened and are following us to the barn. Despite the chill in the air, their shirts are soaked with sweat. They mouth off a lot, but they do work hard.
We make a good team. And maybe that’s enough.
It should be enough, being surrounded by people who know and love me. Working my dream job in a place this beautiful. Continuing to build my family’s legacy.
But there’s still this ache in me, this longing for more. I know that’s ultimately because I’m too chickenshit to let people in—to let them truly know me. Being the Wyatt Rivers is a mask I wear. The guy who’s the life of the party, the one who gambles and fucks and jokes—it’s a caricature I created, a way to keep people at arm’s length.
I’ve got too many responsibilities now to risk falling into the darkness—to risk falling down on my family when they need me most.
My brothers and I crest a hill, the horse barn and its corral coming into view in the little valley below. Everything about the Luck side of the ranch is beautiful, including the barn. It’s enormous, a circular crow’s nest dotted with windows rising from the center of its gabled roof. The barn is painted a rich chocolate brown, and Mollie had Lucky River Ranch’s new horseshoe-shaped logo painted in yellow above the huge doors that mark the main entrance.
But it’s not the barn that makes my heart beat faster.
Nah, that flutter’s on account of the familiar figure I see hanging out by the corral, her chestnut hair gleaming in the sun.
I put my gum back in its wrapper. Then I’m urging Joker into a sprint again before I even know what I’m doing, the two of us thundering down the hill.
“I see you, Daddy ,” Ryder calls from behind me, his voice laced with laughter.
I raise my arm and flip him the bird.
I should probably play it cool. Try to at least make it look like I’m not nursing a raging case of unrequited love and/or blue balls. Sally is probably the most dangerous person of all to be around right now. If anyone can see behind my mask, it’s her. I let her see me, the real me—the heartbroken, devastated boy who’d just lost his mother—that day we kinda, sorta skinny-dipped in the river, and look how that turned out. When she left the day after the funeral, I felt so destroyed that I was sure I’d die from it .
But then my best friend holds a hand up to her forehead and grins, her dimple so deep that I can see it from here.
Fuck being cool.
I don’t miss the way her eyes flick over my body when I pull Joker to a stop beside her, just far enough so that the dust we kick up doesn’t get on her clothes.
“Ma’am.” I touch my fingers to the brim of my hat. “Wasn’t expecting to see you out here today.”
Sally is at Lucky River Ranch a lot. It’s awesome. And awful. If she’s out here at the barn, it’s because she’s tending to our animals. As foreman, I would know about that. If she’s not with the animals, then she’s in the kitchen at the New House, helping Patsy prepare a meal.
It’s not totally out of character for Sally to visit us cowboys unannounced. But her just showing up like this has alarm bells going off inside my head.
Or maybe that’s just last night’s leftover vibes coming back to haunt me. Everything about my interaction with Sally felt undeniably real, and I’m still recovering from the emotional hangover that gave me.
Sally holds up a gigantic thermos. “I made mulled cider.”
“You spike it?”
“Of course I spiked it. Thought y’all might want to warm up after working in the cold.”
This girl. Her kindness. Her thoughtfulness. That pretty smile. And the whiskey I know she put in that cider. It’ll be Jack Daniel’s. My favorite. Our favorite.
Aw, Sunshine, how could I not fall head over boots for you?
I smile down at her. “Cold’s not too bad now that the sun’s up.”
“You sayin’ you’re gonna make me drink alone?”
I love how her accent gets thicker the longer she’s home.
“I got work to do. I’m the boss now.”
Her dimple makes another appearance. “You are.”
“My brothers would chew me out for playing hooky. ”
“I bet they would.”
“It’s not even noon.”
“You do love a scandal.”
I tilt my head, my heart squeezing at her good mood. “You got an answer for everything today, don’t you?”
That mean she got laid last night? I absolutely don’t need to know if Sally got laid last night.
Shit, I’m dying to know . The thought of another guy touching her, not taking his time with her?—
I see red.
The sunlight catches on her eyelashes. “You gonna drink with me or not?”
“Are we invited?” Duke rides up beside me.
Sawyer tips his hat. “Hey, Sally. Everything okay?”
Sally strides forward and runs her hand over Joker’s glossy brown neck. “Y’all tell me. Wyatt here is about to turn down my cider. Yes, it’s spiked, and, yes, I used whiskey.”
“You really must be sick,” Ryder says to me.
Sally scrunches her brow. “Wait, Wyatt, are you not feeling?—”
“No. Yes. I’m not—fuck, I’m fine.” Only I’m not as I watch Joker nuzzle his nose into Sally’s hand. Christ, even my horse is in love with this girl. She’s relentless. “Sally, when have I ever told you no?”
“That mean we are invited?” Duke asks.
I slide off Joker. “No.”
“Aw, man?—”
“You got stalls to muck, don’t you?” I give my brother a pointed look.
His shoulders slump. “Whatever. Nice to see you, Sally.”
“I brought plenty, Wy.” She pauses. “It’s fine if he stays.”
But the hesitant way Sally says that tickles my sixth sense. She need to talk to me alone?
Something is up. Fuck, fuck, fuck , she did sleep with Beck, didn’t she? He hurt her ?
“Nah, y’all really do need to go muck those stalls. And here, untack Joker while you’re at it. I’m gonna check in with the farrier.”
Sawyer nods at my horse, then turns to Sally. “Y’all enjoy the drink. Holler if you need anything, all right?”
“Sounds great. Thanks, Sawyer.”
He meets my eyes before he takes Joker’s reins and hands them to Ryder. Then the three of them disappear into the barn.
Go figure. Just when I’m ready to wring my brothers’ necks, they do me a solid and read the room for once.
Don’t know why Sally wants me alone. But I’m gonna find out—right now.
“Should we head down to the river?” I ask.
She runs her tongue along her bottom lip before taking it between her teeth. “Let’s do it.”