Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Billy
By the time I pull up to the barn that evening, the sky’s gone the color of burnt peach, shadows stretching long across the ranch. The horses snort from their stalls, the smell of hay thick and familiar.
Tex and Joey are leaning against the partition, arguing about something involving fence posts, while Seth sweeps up stray straw with Boone trotting at his heels.
“How’d it go at the dip?” I ask, hanging my hat on the hook.
Joey rolls his eyes. “Slow as hell because somebody”—he aims his thumb at Tex—“didn’t sort the heifers right.”
Tex flicks him in the chest. “Maybe if someone wasn’t staring at his phone the whole time—”
“It was one message,” Joey snaps.
Seth steps between them. “You both were fine. They finished on time.”
I grin. “He just wants credit.”
Joey snorts. “What I want is to know why you had to bribe us in the first place.”
I groan, rubbing the back of my neck. “Because I needed an hour, alright?”
“For what?” Tex asks, already smirking. Boone nudges his hand, and Tex scratches behind his ears, the dog’s tail thumping happily.
I ignore the bait. “For something important.”
Joey narrows his eyes. “Important like avoiding chores so you could make out with your girl?”
Seth elbows him. “Leave him alone.”
Tex lifts a brow. “You’re acting weird, Billy.”
“Not weird,” I mutter, stepping closer. My heart thumps harder than I want to admit. “I’m thinking about proposing.”
All three of them freeze.
Joey’s the first to react, barking out a laugh that echoes off the rafters. “Proposing? Have you talked to Sedona’s dad?”
“No.”
Tex’s eyes widen. “Then what the hell are you doing? Dr. Archer scares half of Prairie Pine.”
Seth leans on his broom, smiling. “Everyone knows you two are together. It’s not like he’s gonna shoot you.”
“He might,” Joey says. “He’s protective.”
My jaw ticks. “It’s not anyone’s business. I love her. That’s the damn point.”
They glance at one another before looking away.
I’m suddenly very nervous. “Can one of you say something?”
Tex sighs, rubbing Boone’s head. “I love Sedona. We all do. But she’s young, Billy. You sure she’s ready?”
His voice isn’t mocking. Just soft. Careful.
Makes me want to chew gravel.
Seth shakes his head. “You don’t wait forever for an Omega like her.”
Joey crosses his arms. “Marriage ain’t a small thing. You’re rushing.”
“I’m not,” I snap before I can stop myself. “I’ve known since we were kids.”
“Knowing and deciding are two different things,” Joey says.
“Lay off him,” Seth mutters, stepping between us. “You always get like this.”
“I’m not getting like anything,” Joey argues. “I’m trying to be sensible.”
Tex’s jaw tightens. “I’m out. You’re all annoying. Marry her, don’t marry her, I don’t give a flying fuck.”
He whistles for Boone and heads for the door, muttering something about feeding the horses before he loses his mind.
Joey watches him leave, then turns back to me. “What’s his problem?”
“Nothing,” I mutter.
Seth sighs, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be dumb. You know Joey’s got that thing.”
“What thing?” Joey asks.
Seth lifts a brow. “He’s had a soft spot for Sedona forever. I think half of this town is in love with the girl.”
Joey sputters. “I do not—”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s Billy’s, and he’ll do right by her. Won’t you, Billy?” Seth counters.
I’m too stunned to comprehend what he just said about everyone having a thing for my girl. Does that include him? What the hell?
“You’re too young to be thinking of marriage. I’m not arguing about it,” Joey says.
“You’re my brother. But I’m not a kid anymore, and this ain’t steer riding where I hop on, pray I stay on, and hope I don’t bust my ribs. This is…” My throat works. “This is her. Everything about her feels right.”
Seth nods. “He means you can’t muscle through something like this. You choose it. That’s all.”
Joey studies me for a long moment. “You really like this girl, huh?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “More than like.”
He exhales, then pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. “Then I guess you need this.”
I blink as he pops it open and slides out a small, worn ring wrapped in tissue. My breath catches.
He holds it out to me.
“We don’t have anything else from Mom,” Joey says quietly. “Just this. So you’d better be a hundred percent sure.”
“You’ve had it in your pocket the whole time?” I ask.
“No. I just.. I had a feeling we would be having this conversation soon, and I needed to be prepared,” he says.
I unwrap it slowly. The ring glints in the fading light—yellow gold with a simple oval garnet in the center, the sides engraved with tiny curling leaves.
Mom wore it every day until the accident. My throat goes tight seeing it again.
Seth leans in, smiling. “She’d love that Sedona’s the one getting it.”
I swallow. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure.”
“Then take it,” Joey says. His voice isn’t teasing now. “But if she says no, I’m throwing you in the creek.”
Seth shoves him lightly. “Shut up. He’s gonna be fine. Sedona loves him. Why the hell would she say no?”
He always comes to my defense. It hits somewhere deep.
I slide the ring into my pocket, palm pressing over the fabric like I’m anchoring myself to it.
“Thanks,” I say. It’s all I can manage.
Joey claps a hand on my back. “Just don’t screw it up.”
I let out a low breath, the barn settling into quiet around us. The horses shift in their stalls. Dusk deepens outside. And hope flares warm in my chest.
I picture Sedona’s smile, the way her eyes softened when I told her I loved her. I picture her in this barn, sunlight catching her curls, holding out her hand for this ring.
Yeah.
I’m ready.
Morning settles over the ranch in a pale gold haze when I step into the stables, pitchfork already in hand. The air smells like hay, manure, sawdust, and that familiar musk of horse hide warmed by the rising sun.
I’m halfway through mucking out the first stall when boots crunch behind me, followed by the soft pop of a Thermos cap.
“Thought you’d be out here,” Seth says, offering the steaming cup like it’s a peace treaty.
I take it, the coffee hot enough to sting my palm through the metal. “Thanks. The others awake?”
He shakes his head, hair ruffled from sleep. “Tex went into town for feed, and Joey’s with Jasper.”
I snort. “Jasper? That kid shows up one hour a day and still complains about his back.”
“He’s seventeen,” Seth reminds me, leaning against the stall door. “Rough work isn’t exactly in his blood.”
Jasper Hayes—our so-called farmhand, even though we do ninety percent of the labor—has been helping out since last summer. Tall, skinny, looks like a breeze might knock him over, wears his hat too big for his head.
He means well, but the kid loses focus the second his phone buzzes.
“Joey babies him,” I mutter, sipping the coffee. It’s perfect—strong, with a hint of vanilla. “We really need a better hand.”
“We don’t need anything except maybe a day off,” Seth says, nudging my shoulder. “We do most of the work ourselves anyway.”
I grunt because he’s right, and because this part, this mucking of stalls, hauling feed and setting fresh bedding never ends. But there’s comfort in it too. It’s routine. It’s ours.
He grabs a second pitchfork and steps into the stall beside me. We fall into rhythm without speaking, the scrape of metal against dirt filling the barn. My muscles burn with each lift, each toss, each shovel-full of soiled hay. Sweat prickles down my spine even though the morning’s still cool.
After a while Seth asks, “You’re really serious about proposing?”
I don’t look up. “Yeah.”
He pauses just long enough for me to feel it before he asks, “Like… soon?”
“I’ve got the ring,” I say, tapping my pocket. The metal inside warms against my thigh, like it knew we were talking about it. “I’ll talk to her.”
When he smiles, it’s soft. Proud. “You’re gonna make her happy, you know.”
Something eases under my ribs. “I hope so.”
We keep working until conversation dies off naturally. Hours drag, long and bone-tiring, but good.
We haul water buckets, sweep the wide aisle, curry the horses until their coats gleam. We mend a loose latch, fix a bent nail, double-check the feed bins, and stack hay bales in the loft.
Dust clings to my flannel, sweat darkens my collar, my hands ache around the pitchfork handle.
By afternoon, we’re both covered in sweat, hay, and the occasional horsehair stuck to our forearms. My back screams for mercy. My legs feel like someone filled them with gravel.
Worth it. Always worth it.
Seth leans his arms over the top rail of a stall, breath coming slow. “Hey. You think about signing up for the rodeo this year?”
I groan. “Don’t you start.”
“I’m serious. They’re bringing back team events. Thought it might be good for you.”
“For me?” I grunt. “Last time I got on a bronc, I almost broke my damn hip. You forget that?”
His grin is wicked. “I didn’t forget. You wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.”
“Because it hurt!”
“Okay, okay.” He laughs. “But I’m not talking bronc. I know that’s a sore spot. And bull riding’s Joey’s thing; he’d lose his mind if you tried to outshine him. I mean team roping.”
I pause, leaning the pitchfork against the wall. “Team roping?”
“Yeah. Dad used to be a beast at it. You know that.”
“I know.” Memories flicker—Dad riding tall in the saddle, rope flying true, proud grin when he’d catch clean. “I’ve never thought about trying it.”
“Well,” Seth says, straightening, “maybe it’s time we carry on something. Doesn’t have to be big. Just a small event. Something for fun.”
I consider it. Me and Seth roping together. A little frightening. A lot tempting.
“Think we’d be any good?” I tease.
“Absolutely not,” he says instantly. “But we’d look cool trying.”
I laugh, the sound rough from a long day of dust and sweat.
He nudges me again. “You know… if you marry Sedona, she’ll be your cheerleader.”
“Look at you,” I say, smirking. “Already planning my family life.”
He shrugs, grabbing an armful of hay. “Been thinking about it.”