Chapter 5
SLADE
The Chill Thrill fundraiser was a Mustang Mountain tradition — cold, chaotic, and impossible to talk people out of. This year, the organizers were donating the money they raised to the rodeo fund. Which was why I’d shown up at the edge of Lake Bliss before the sun cleared the ridge.
I set the ropes and checked the exits. The cold didn’t scare me but having someone panic in the ice did. “Give me another foot,” I yelled out to my brother-in-law.
Hayes shifted the post without saying a word, his boots crunching loudly in the snow. We worked well together. The fact that he was married to my sister didn’t change that. If anything, it made both of us more determined not to screw up.
My sister Sidney hovered nearby, her arms folded, tracking the setup like she was already anticipating problems. She’d always been good at seeing what could go wrong before it did.
“Are you trying to herd cattle or people?” she asked.
“People are harder,” I said.
She smirked. “You’re not wrong.”
I glanced toward the lake, where a few early volunteers were stamping their feet and laughing too loud, already riding the adrenaline.
The warming tent was set up with towels stacked high on folding tables, and the EMT truck would arrive soon.
Everything was under control. That should’ve made me feel better, but it didn’t.
“Where do you want the donation table?” Hayes asked.
“One at check-in and one by the exit,” I said. “People will probably give more once they’re out of the water and realized they survived.”
Sidney studied me, something unreadable in her expression. “You’re doing a good job, you know.”
“I know.”
She tilted her head. “Doesn’t sound like you know it.”
Before I could answer, movement near the parking lot caught my attention.
Morgan had arrived. She walked toward the registration table like the stares didn’t bother her, which was irritating considering most people had to work a lot harder to feel that comfortable in Mustang Mountain.
She paused as she reached the tent, her eyes scanning the setup like she was looking for gaps in the plan or issues with how we’d laid things out.
I told myself the tightness in my chest was because I hadn’t had enough coffee yet and had nothing to do with her.
I watched as Morgan greeted the volunteer manning the registration table. She smiled, nodded, and reached for the clipboard. Then she scrawled her name on the sign-up sheet.
Something sharp twisted in my gut. “No.” The word was out of my mouth before I realized I’d moved.
She looked up slowly, those blue eyes cool and unamused. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not jumping in that lake.”
A few heads turned. The volunteer froze.
Morgan straightened. “What makes you think you have any say?”
“This isn’t a dare,” I said, keeping my voice low even as irritation sparked. “It’s a fundraiser.”
“And the fundraiser is for the rodeo,” she shot back. “Which I’m overseeing.”
“And if you end up hypothermic, the town will blame the event. Then they’ll blame the rodeo. Then they’ll blame the land. Guess who’ll be standing in front of them when that happens.”
Her jaw set. “You don’t get to manage me because it’s inconvenient.”
“I’m not managing you,” I snapped. “I’m managing risk.”
She let out a sharp laugh. “That’s funny. Sounds like you’re trying to exert control from where I’m standing.”
“You want to prove you belong here?” I leaned in, lowering my voice even more. “Fine. Do it without risking an ambulance.”
She met my gaze head-on. And scrawled her name across the waiver before handing it back to the volunteer. “I’ll see you in the water, Slade.”
I stood there with my pulse hammering and my temper stretched thin. There was no way she was going in that water without me.
I kept an eye on her the rest of the morning until it was time for the first round of folks to take the plunge. She didn’t hesitate at the lake’s edge. When the countdown started, she stood straight, her shoulders squared, her eyes forward. When the timer hit zero, she jumped.
“Hell,” I muttered as I jumped in after her. The cold slammed into me like a freight train, knocking the breath from my lungs. I surfaced fast, my eyes burning while my heart pounded. The shock never got easier, no matter how many times I did it.
I spotted her as her head went back under. Grabbing her arm, I hauled her close. “I’ve got you.”
Her fingers dug into my shoulder. Then she found her footing and shoved off me. “I don’t need—”
“Yeah,” I said, my teeth chattering. “You do.”
We slogged out of the water dripping and freezing while spectators cheered and laughed. Someone shoved towels at us. I took one and wrapped it around her shoulders without thinking.
She stiffened. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t act like you want to take care of me when you’ve been picking fights with me for days.”
“You want to talk about this here?” I asked, my voice low.
“You started it.”
I stepped closer before I could stop myself, my hands still gripping the towel at her shoulders. She didn’t move away. Didn’t break eye contact. The space between us shrank to nothing.
“You embarrassed me,” she said.
The hurt in her voice cut deeper than the cold. “I did what?”
“You challenged me in public. You made me sound reckless. Like I was a liability.”
“That wasn’t my intent.”
“But that’s what happened.”
The words landed heavy. I’d done to her exactly what the town had always done to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good.”
The raw vulnerability in her eyes made something crack open in my chest. I didn’t look away. Didn’t step back. I let myself feel it: the pull, the heat, the want.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” I whispered, trying like hell to resist her.
She shook her head. Icy droplets fell from her hair. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
I swallowed hard. She couldn’t mean it. “The two of us is a bad idea.”
“Why?” She tilted her head back and stared up at me. Her eyes were as blue and bright as the Montana sky in springtime. “Because you aren’t interested?”
“No.” My voice came out hoarse and low. “Because I am.”
Her breath caught and she lifted onto her toes. I leaned closer without thinking. Our mouths hovered inches apart. My thumb brushed the edge of the towel at her collarbone, my body already choosing for me. For one reckless second, the world narrowed to her.
Then the crowd roared behind us. Reality crashed back in.
I dropped my hand and stepped away.
“That’s what I thought,” she whispered, hurt flashing across her face before she turned and walked away.
I stood there for several minutes after she left, the lake dark and still behind me.
I did want her, and that was the problem.
Wanting her meant risking everything. If this blew up, it wouldn’t just sting.
It would take down the rodeo, prove my family had always been right about me, and destroy the fragile peace that was barely holding this town together.
Wanting Morgan Carter wasn’t a weakness. But choosing her would be.