Chapter Twenty #2
“They’re trying to buy us out,” she mutters. “They already took three properties on the east side. And if Mom hadn’t refused to sell last year, they’d probably be building a fence through our fields right now.”
I glance toward the outer edges of the property, toward the place where the wheat should already be sprouting and the wildflowers should be blooming.
Cooper Ridge isn’t just competition.
They’re a slow-moving storm—and they’re coming for everything.
“Damn, Kade, your girl’s reckless!” Wilder shouts, jolting me, as he races past, heading into the fray.
“Let’s go, Archer,” Emmy calls, jerking her chin—and a smile—at Hazel as she hurries her horse after him. “Your clothes are way too clean!”
Hazy laughs, rolling her eyes, but I can tell it’s forced. “You say that like you know a damn thing about coyboyin’, Emmaline!”
She turns and gives me a long look, reaching over to squeeze my hand around the reins.
“I’m proud of you, Kade, and I’m really happy you’re back.” She jerks her chin at Georgia, who’s off on her own now, watching me with a worried look on her pretty face. “You deserve some happy, too.”
I swallow thickly, gripping her hand right back. “And when are you gonna get happy, Hazy Ruth?”
Something passes behind her eyes, gaze going back to that ridge of cowboys, except now it’s empty.
“I’ll find it someday.” She flashes me a fake smirk and releases me, backing Orion toward the group. “Maybe when you’re covered in mud and horse shit.”
Scoffing, I cluck my tongue and tap my heel into Dusty’s side. “Let’s go, man. We’ve got mud to sling.”
Dusty takes off like a shot, passing Orion and Hazy in a blink, like he’s been waiting for the chance to show off. Neck back, teeth out, he hits the puddles, body skidding sideways a few feet. My heart thuds, a grin splitting my face as adrenaline courses through me.
I let him prance and kick the mess, coating his lower half in cold, refreshing mud and water, but the second his zoomies slow down a bit, I’m guiding him toward Georgia, unable to stay away a second longer.
Her eyes hold mine, and I dig in my heel, hands loose on the reins. She shoots me a little smirk and runs her finger over the brim of my hat—her middle finger.
My head falls back with a laugh that feels too damn good to stop.
The conversation with Hazel is still heavy in my gut, but the words I spoke are just as fresh. I meant what I said. Might not know Aurora very well yet, but in ways I can’t quite figure out, she’s mine.
“Took you long enough,” Georgia says quietly, shifting on her saddle.
I slide my gaze over her legs, noting her form and posture, making sure she’s not stretching too far to reach the stirrups.
She looks good.
Perfect, actually.
“How the hell can a city girl like you ride a horse this damn good, darlin’?”
She smirks, eyes gleaming. “I have secrets, and you haven’t earned them yet, clearly.”
“Why don’t you tell me how to earn ‘em, and I’ll start right now.”
“Oh, I’ve got a few ideas,” she purrs, shoulder tipping, taking my stomach right along with it. “But unfortunately, they’re also secrets.”
“Seriously, freckles?” My mouth falls open, hand pressed to my chest in mock-horror. “You wound me.”
“I think you’re too full of yourself to possibly get wounded by words.”
I waggle my brows. “You could be full of me too if you play your cards right.”
Her head falls back with a sweet giggle that shakes her whole body.
That laugh—God, that laugh.
It’s sunshine and honey, wild and unfiltered.
“You’re a shameless flirt, Mr. Archer.” She clicks her tongue, and shakes her head. “It’s annoying.”
Flirt? Is that what I’m doing? Fuck. Can’t remember the last time I flirted with a woman—put in any real energy at all to get their attention. But it comes easy with Georgia.
And it’s fun.
Being around her is fun .
When’s the last time I had any fun?
“I think it's time you stop pretending to find me annoying,” I drawl, pulling Dusty up to Pudding’s side so we’re next to each other.
“Between your over the top sexual innuendos and inappropriate touching, I assure you, I’m not pretending.”
“Please,” I mutter, rolling my eyes skyward, a smile tugging at my lips. “You loved the touching.”
“Did not.”
“And you really love my innuendos.”
“I had no idea you had such good humor hiding under your rabid hyena tendencies.”
“I’m charming as fuck, and you can’t prove otherwise.”
“Says the man who fired a young kid for wearing the wrong shoes.”
My right eye twitches as I choke back the honest reason I sent Wiki packing. Somehow I feel, because he touched you, won’t win me any points.
Instead I go with, “Or it’s because he almost got you fuckin’ killed.”
“Except, I know more about horses than him, and I was never getting in that saddle!” she hisses.
“How was I supposed to know that?” I bark. “I hardly know you!”
“Exactly!” She stares at me, eyes sharp and dancing with waves of angry greens before her shoulders fall with a sigh and she drops her voice.
“We hardly know each other, Kade. I started as your social worker, then I was nothing, and now, I’m caught somewhere in the middle, stuck between enemy and stranger. ”
I cock a brow. “Pretty sure most people call that a friend.”
Her throat bobs, eyes flicking between mine. “That what I am to you, sunshine ? A friend?”
Hell no , is the immediate response I want to shout, but I choke it back. Pretty sure she’d take it the wrong way. And I like the sound of that annoying nickname too much to piss her off right now.
Exhaling, I shake my head, and tug on my hair. “My point is, darlin’, you wanna be somethin’ other than whatever we are, you’re gonna need to know me.”
I gesture at the chaos around us.
“You wanna know what I’m all about? It’s this. The land, the work, these people.” My hand grazes Dusty’s side, my throat catching at the truth of it. “These animals. The crops and very foundation Honey Bea was built on. That’s me.”
“Really? I thought you were a ten-by-ten box filled with dirty laundry, beer cans, and a bad personality,” she says, deadpan.
“Maybe I was all that. Maybe I’m still dragging myself out of the pit you found me in.” Jaw ticking, I glance away, unable to hold her gaze. “But I am tryin’.”
Time stretches in tense, raw silence that grates on my nerves, but when her hand lands on my arm, squeezing softly, it stalls altogether.
“I know you are,” she says softly. “I haven’t known you long, but I see it. You are trying for Aurora, and…” Georgia breaks off, and I finally drag my eyes back to hers. “It might not mean much, but I’m proud of the changes you’re making. Aurora will be lucky to have you as her dad.”
My hand grips hers, mouth falling open, brain stuck on the word will .
That mean she thinks this’ll all work out?
“Freckles—”
A loud curse cuts through the air. Our heads jolt to the sound just as Wilder sails off his horse, landing ass-first in a deep patch of mud.
Everyone gasps.
The laughter stops.
“Shit,” I snap, already vaulting off Dusty. “I knew you’d be the one to get fuckin’ hurt!”
He groans, head tipped high to the sky. Behind me, I can hear horses racing toward us, probably Hazy, or one of the hands, off to get Frank, the vet who volunteers here.
I skid to a stop, mud coating my calves and boots, and drop to a knee at his side. My thigh protests, but I barely feel it, heart ricocheting chaotically against my sternum.
“Wilder?” I call, scanning his body for obvious injuries. “Man, talk to me.”
Nothing .
“Oh my God,” a woman cries, probably Emmy or one of the randoms. “Is he dead?”
“No!” Hazel shouts, pausing before muttering, “Fuck, is he dead? God, this is going to be all over town.”
“Swear to fuck,” I choke out. “If you survived the goddamned war and got yourself killed by wet dirt, I’m going to light your ashes on fire.”
My hand drops to his throat, and I swallow hard, digging my fingers in to check his pulse. Motherfucker better not be de—
Cold, wet mud flies through the air and collides against the side of my face with a loud splat.
Georgia lets out a horrified “ Oh, fuck! ”
The whole field goes silent.
I freeze. Wipe a slow hand down my face. Feel the tension stretch, like the entire world’s holding its breath.
Then I bend down, grab a fistful of mud, and nail Wilder square in his too-pretty face.
“Always told you bare jaws are for the weak,” I mutter.
He falls back, hitting the ground with a splash. His eyes are wide, but his grin is wider. “And I told you, it would be a crime to cover this mug with an overgrown gerbil hide like you.”
I catch his fingers digging into the mud at his sides a split second before I hurl myself up and away.
A second later, he lets out a fucking battle cry that pierces my ears. “Mud fight!”
“Oh, motherfucker,” I say, grinning from ear to ear. “ It’s on .”