Chapter 6 #2
“I’m good at my job,” I added, something inside me wanting to defend itself even now. “I’m not… I’m not guessing.”
“I believe you, hon,” Ruby said, her tone sincere. “And I don’t say that lightly.”
The warmth in my chest had nothing to do with coffee. Slade approached then, stopping on the other side of the counter.
Ruby raised an eyebrow at him. “You gonna stand there brooding all day?”
Slade ignored her and locked his gaze on me. “Are you okay?”
The question came out rougher than I expected. I set down my mug and crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling a little defensive. “I’m fine.”
His eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not.”
Heat raced up my neck and spread over my cheeks. “Are you always this… intrusive?”
“I’m always this honest,” he shot back.
Ruby made a pleased little sound like she was watching a show she’d paid for.
“I can handle town gossip,” I said. “It’s not the first time someone’s assumed I didn’t earn something.”
Slade’s jaw flexed. “That’s not gossip. That’s a warning.”
“A warning?” I repeated, keeping my voice low even as my pulse kicked up.
Slade leaned closer, just enough that I could pick up the faint scent of horses and pine. “People around here decide what they believe first. Then they look for proof. If they think you’re here because your daddy bought you a job, they’ll find a way to make that story true.”
I held his gaze. “And you’re telling me this because you care about my reputation?”
His expression hardened. “I’m telling you because it could affect the rodeo.”
“Bull,” I said, my voice quiet.
Ruby’s eyes widened a fraction, clearly delighted.
Slade’s gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”
“If this was about the rodeo,” I said, being sure to keep my tone calm and even, “you would’ve stayed out of it. You would’ve let me deal with it. You’re not the kind of man who goes out of his way unless something’s irritating you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Irritating me?”
“Yes,” I said, meeting him head-on. “The idea that someone else got to take a shot at me before you did.”
For a second, his expression flickered to something like surprise, then amusement, then a darker kind of interest that made my stomach flip.
Ruby made a soft humming sound like she was savoring the moment.
Slade leaned forward, setting his palms on the counter. “You’re feisty today.”
“I’m competent,” I corrected.
“And stubborn.”
“That too.”
He stared at me for a long beat, and I had the uncomfortable sense that he was seeing me differently now. Not as the planner. Not as the outsider, but as something else.
Then his gaze flicked to my boots. I was still wearing the same ones I’d had on when he led me all over the ridge. The toes were scuffed from being out in the snow and ice. It was like he was judging my entire character based on my choice of boots.
“Have you ever even been on the back of a horse?” he asked.
I blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Ruby laughed outright. “Oh, honey.”
Slade stared at me like I’d confessed to a major crime. “You’re planning a rodeo and you’ve never sat in a saddle?”
“I plan infrastructure,” I said. “Not stunts.”
His mouth twitched. “You oughta fix that.”
“I’m not—”
“Come out to the ranch tomorrow,” he cut in. “If there’s even the slightest chance of you understanding what we’re trying to do, you won’t get it until you’ve seen the land from the saddle. “
Ruby clasped her hands. “I like this idea.”
I shot her a look. “Of course you do.”
Slade’s eyes stayed on mine. “You want people to stop treating you like you’re temporary? Like you don’t belong?”
My pulse spiked. “That’s not what this is about.”
“It is,” he said, his voice firm. “Whether you admit it or not. If you’re going to redraw this town, you should know what it feels like under you.”
The words hit harder than they should have. I held his gaze, refusing to look away even as heat rose under my collar. “And this is your idea of proving something?”
“This is my idea of removing excuses,” he said. “Yours and theirs.”
Ruby’s grin was sharp. “Go.”
I glanced at her. “I didn’t ask for a life coach.”
“You didn’t need to,” she said. “Mustang Mountain hands those out for free.”
I looked back at Slade. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes issued a clear challenge. I could say no and probably should. But the sensible answer had kept me stuck in rooms where people assumed I was there to take notes instead of lead.
“Fine,” I said. “Tomorrow.”
Slade’s smile was slow and dangerous. “Wear better boots.”
“I’ll survive,” I said.
“That’s not the point,” he replied.
I didn’t ask what he meant by that because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
Outside, the cold slapped me back into reality. The sky was bright but edged with that particular winter glare that made everything look too sharp, too clean. Snow crunched under my boots as I headed for my car. I made it halfway there before I heard Slade behind me.
“Morgan.”
I stopped, turned.
He was a few feet away, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, the wind tugging at his hair. For once, he didn’t look like he was about to pick a fight.
He looked… wary.
“You don’t owe anyone here an explanation,” he said.
The words were so unexpected I almost didn’t process them. “I know.”
His jaw flexed. “But they’re going to push anyway.”
“I can handle it,” I said.
He stepped closer, stopping just far enough away to keep it from being inappropriate, but still close enough that my body registered his presence. “Good. Because I don’t want to watch them run you out of town over some story they made up.”
My throat tightened. “Why do you care?”
His gaze held mine, steady and frustrating. “Who says I do?”
I arched a brow. “Slade.”
He exhaled, low and rough. “Because if you leave, they’ll say they were right.”
I stared at him, wondering why it seemed so personal to him. Then my mind wandered to thinking about how rough the dark scruff on his chiseled jaw would feel under my palm.
He looked away first, like he hated that truth as much as he hated the rumor. “Tomorrow,” he said, shifting his weight. “Be there at noon. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start.”
“See you tomorrow.” Thankfully, I made it to my car without wiping out in front of him.
As I climbed into the driver’s seat, I felt the echo of his presence like heat under my skin.
I’d come to the Merc for coffee. I was leaving with a challenge, a plan, and the unsettling realization that Slade Kincaid might be the first person in Mustang Mountain to see me clearly…
even when he didn’t want to. I told myself I was gathering context.
But deep down, I knew I was already invested.
And if tomorrow went the way I suspected it would, a horse wasn’t the only thing I was at risk of losing control of.