Chapter 3
LILY
Colt Callahan storms out like a child who didn’t get their way, and I chuckle under my breath.
He’s trying so hard not to show any pain, but I could see his tiny winces, even if he thinks he was hiding them well.
I've been there, hiding pain because I had to keep going, so I see right through his little charade.
If anything, he’s predictable. His jaw is tight, and his boots stomp around with every step. He wears that permanent “I’m mad as hell” face to keep others away.
I let the voices of him and his brother fade out behind us and turn to his parents, who have approached and are still standing there, like they’ve just watched a tornado tear through their living room, but it doesn’t faze them because they’ve raised these two animals.
“Well,” I say lightly, with a smile, “that went smoother than expected.”
His mother snorts, and his father sighs.
“That boy,” she mutters, then looks at me properly. “You’re not scared of him.”
“No, ma’am,” I say honestly.
“You’re going to be good for more than just this rodeo.”
Her tone is teasing, but her meaning is not, and I don't miss it. And neither does Colt’s dad.
Will clears his throat. “Maria.”
“What?” she says. “I’ve got eyes.”
I laugh softly and hold up my hands. “I promise, I’m only here for the chaos and the cattle.” That earns a real smile. “And at least Levi’s got some sense.”
“Levi’s the translator. When we couldn’t speak to Colt, Levi could. For being the younger brother, that boy has a great sense of people's awareness about him.”
His dad hums. “Always did.”
“I know who I can go to if I need something relayed,” I add.
Maria steps forward and takes my hand. “We’re very happy you’re here, dear. Please don’t let my ill-tempered son make you feel differently.”
“I’m glad I’m here, too.”
The announcer booms through the entire place. “Coming out of chute number three, from Hearts Bend, Texas, this three-time Texan Barrel qualifier is riding a rank one, let’s hear it for our very own Leviiiiii Callahannnnn!” The announcer draws out his name, and the place goes wild.
“I’ll never tire of hearing that,” his dad says.
I smile at his parents as they quickly leave the office to watch the show.
Funny how two brothers can be so different.
Though I guess it’s no different than my sister and me.
We both thought we wanted out of our small town and took off together for the big city.
But it didn’t take me long to realize it’s not the place for me.
I came home, and Sierra stayed, making a new life for herself.
I dash outside and watch Levi’s ride from the back of the corral. He’s really good and is definitely an asset to this place. I head back inside, making a few notes for the big rodeo I’m planning, and now that I'm finally alone, I sit at the desk and take a breath.
I knew coming here would press my limits.
I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard about him on the circuit.
Plus, his parents gave me the rundown when I accepted the position.
Colt’s personality precedes him. He’s protective, territorial, and doesn’t like change.
I understand those are strong personality traits, and my job is not to be a therapist. But what my job will be is to get him to try to adapt, instead of just enduring what's going on around him.
But it’s a damn good thing he's as grumpy as he is. What I didn’t realize was how freaking gorgeous he’d be up close, and when my fingers danced over his ribs after his ride, I could feel the power he had.
And I wanted to feel more.
But this is my job. I need to keep my head on straight.
This ranch will be a challenge to me, probably the toughest I've had. I took it because Hearts RoundUp is a perfect storm of legacy and pride. Of strong traditions and denials of anything gone south. But these things also bring huge potential. When you care that much about something, there’s only one way to go.
And that’s up.
That's where I step in, turning old worlds into surviving worlds. To make a terrible joke, this isn’t my first rodeo.
I’m not just a spectator—I’m a rider. I grew up ranching and riding.
There were long days with bloody knuckles, dust in my teeth, and respect earned the hard way.
I don’t flinch at animals, men, or dirt.
And when Colt’s brother said he was a barrel racer, I knew why I liked him.
I don't romanticize the idea of being a cowgirl; I lived it.
Leaning back in the chair, I scan the desk, seeing all the handwritten notes.
A sticky note here with a date, a notepad with phone numbers, and an envelope full of tattered receipts.
There’s no digital tracking, which is a tax nightmare and most likely where everything started going wrong.
If the financials aren't accurate, there’s no hope for anything else.
Colt is the face, the anchor of the family and the rodeo. It’s a good and bad place to be. Troubles fall on his shoulders, and if he’s too stubborn to realize or accept the help to dig out, they only compound over time.
No, Colt Callahan isn’t the problem; he’s an obstacle, but he’s also my biggest asset. I don’t need him to like me or trust me. I don’t need him to give me permission to be here. I just need him to stay the same old predictable man I’ve spoken to twice before. Predictability is easy to handle.
And then I need to let my sunshine warm his grouchy, cold heart.