Chapter Six
Marina
The gates to Wildhaven Storm Ranch stand open ahead of us, and I sit a little straighter in the passenger seat.
For the first time since we left the highway, I stop looking at the road and really look at where we are.
“Wow.”
Bryce glances over at me, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel. “Pretty, huh?”
“Pretty?” I laugh. “After spending the better part of the last five years in the city, this place is magical.”
He grins as he turns the truck through the gates.
The gravel road stretches ahead of us, pale and dusty beneath the summer sun, winding past enormous lodgepole pines. Fences run in long, neat lines toward distant hills, and there are horses scattered across the fields—chestnuts, bays, grays, paints—all grazing beneath the wide Wyoming sky.
A group of cattle moves across one of the hills in the distance, pushed along by two cowboys on horseback.
Behind me, Ryder makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeal. “Mommy! Look!”
I turn around.
My little boy is practically plastered against the back window.
His enormous brown felt cowboy hat is sitting crooked on his head, his shoulder-length blond hair blowing wildly around his face through the open window. His big blue eyes are wide as he watches everything flash past.
“Cows!” he announces.
“I see them, buddy.”
“And horses!”
“I see those too.”
“Cowboys!”
Bryce chuckles.
Ryder’s little boot-covered feet start kicking against the seat in excitement.
I turn back around, smiling.
“So,” I say, looking at Bryce, “this is your bride’s ranch?”
His grin widens. “Yep.”
I glance back out the window at the expanse of green pastures. “Charli’s family owns all this?”
“Been in the Storm family for generations.”
I expected a ranch, but I didn’t expect all of this.
“This is a working ranch?”
“Very much so.” Bryce slows a little as we pass a round pen. “They raise, board, and train horses. Everything from horses for riding and ranch work to sport horses. They have a pretty big operation. Charli is a phenomenal horse trainer. Rider trainer too.”
I smile.
That makes sense. Everything I’ve heard about Charli so far seems to fit the woman I imagine winning Bryce Raintree’s heart.
“Her oldest sister, Matty, is the ranch manager. Keeps the entire operation running.”
He nods toward the fields. “Then there’s Shelby. She trains riders for sport. Dressage, trick riding, jumping, barrel racing. Whatever someone wants to learn, she can teach it all.”
I turn so fast that I nearly pull something in my neck. “Shelby?”
Bryce looks at me.
“As in Shelby Storm?”
His mouth twitches. “Uh-huh.”
“Former junior barrel racing champion Shelby Storm?”
He laughs. “The one and only.”
I stare at him. “No way. I know Shelby.”
His eyebrows lift. “Yeah?”
“Knew her. Not well, but … yes. From the junior circuit. She was a year ahead of me.” A smile pulls at my mouth as old memories come rushing back. “She was incredible. I used to watch her ride and think she was practically untouchable. She taught me a few things.”
“I bet she’ll remember you too,” he says.
I look back toward the road, my smile growing.
It’s strange how small the world can be.
For years, I haven’t thought about those days much. The dusty arenas. The early mornings. The smell of leather and horse sweat. The nervous excitement before running into an arena with a stopwatch ticking in the back of your mind.
“They have a younger sister, Harleigh,” Bryce continues.
“What does she do?”
Bryce points toward the eastern horizon. “She’s developing a guest ranch over there.”
I follow his gesture, but from here, I can only see miles and miles of rolling land. “Guest ranch?”
“That’s the plan. Cabins, riding vacations, ranch experiences. She’s still getting everything developed.”
I sit back, absorbing it all. “So, this isn’t just a ranch. It’s an entire family enterprise.”
“Pretty much. Including their mother’s side of the family tree. The Trust clan.”
I look at him.
Then something else clicks.
“Wait.”
Bryce looks over.
“Trust? As in Axle and Royce Trust? The bull riding brothers?”
He nods.
My mouth drops open.
“Axle Trust. The cowboy who beat you at the finals last weekend?”
“The very same.”
I sit back against the seat. “Well, that’s a twisty little family you’re hitching your wagon to.”
Bryce laughs. “Irene and Boone Trust are the girls’ aunt and uncle,” he says. “They help run the ranch. Manage the cattle and bison herds. Axle, Royce, and Cabe are their three sons. Then there’s Micah, another cousin.”
Axle Trust is one of those cowboys people have been talking about for years. Royce isn’t far behind him. Both gorgeous. Both talented. And both known for their antics in and out of the arena.
A shiver runs down my spine at the memory of some of Royce’s out-of-arena antics that I know well, but I quickly push those thoughts away.
“You’ll probably see a lot of familiar faces this weekend.”
I shake my head.
“Cabe. That name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he a bull rider too?”
“Nah. Cabe’s a real-deal cowboy and Wildhaven Storm’s foreman.”
There is something in his voice when he talks about them. Something settled. Something that tells me this isn’t just a ranch he visits because he’s marrying Charli. It’s a place he’s already made home.
I smile. “How wonderful for you and Charli.”
He looks at me.
“I mean it,” I say. “You two finding each other. It sounds like something that was written in the stars.”
“Yeah.”
For a moment, neither of us says anything.
The truck rolls deeper into the ranch, and the farther we go, the more peaceful it becomes. The highway feels like it’s a hundred miles behind us now. All I can hear is the crunch of gravel beneath the tires, the occasional lowing of cattle, and Ryder’s excited little commentary from the back seat.
A massive barn comes into view ahead, its dark timber construction standing against the bright green fields. Horses graze behind wired fence nearby, tails swishing lazily in the heat.
“That’s a really big barn!” Ryder squeals.
I turn around again.
“Look at that horse!”
“I see it.”
“He’s brown!”
“Yes, buddy. It’s brown, but how do you know it’s a he? It could be a mare.”
“I think that white one’s a girl ’cause it’s pretty.”
Bryce laughs.
Ryder points at everything like he’s seeing something he’s only ever seen on television before.
And I can’t blame him.
“Mommy, I wanna ride a horse.”
I smile. “We’ll see.”
“I wanna ride a big-boy one.”
Bryce glances at me. “I think we can arrange that.”
Ryder lets out another delighted squeal.
I look at him again.
His hat has shifted even further sideways now. His blond hair is flying around his face, and his little boots are bouncing.
He looks like he belongs here.
That thought hits me unexpectedly hard.
He belongs somewhere like this. Not in a Dallas high-rise. Not surrounded by elevators and concrete and glass.
Here.
Where there are horses and wide-open spaces and dirt beneath your boots. Where a little boy can wake up and hear cattle instead of traffic. Play in the dirt and soak up the sun. Where the sky seems endless and the air is fresh as morning rain.
I turn back around before the thought can settle too deeply in my chest.
The house finally comes into view.
And I actually gasp.
It’s enormous.
Beautiful doesn’t seem like a strong enough word.
The rustic white farmhouse sits at the top of a gentle rise, surrounded by enormous oak trees and flower beds, with a wide porch wrapping around the front and side. It looks like something out of a painting.
Holy cow.
Bryce pulls the truck to a stop in front, and before he can even put it completely in park, the front door flies open, and a woman comes running down the steps.
She’s a gorgeous brunette, her long hair flying behind her, a huge smile lighting up her face.
Bryce barely gets his door open before she reaches him.
“Bryce!”
He steps out just in time to catch her as she launches herself into his arms.
He laughs, wrapping both arms around her and lifting her slightly off the ground.
“Hey, Chuck.”
There is no mistaking it. This has to be Charli.
I unbuckle my seat belt and climb out.
“Come on, buddy.”
I open the back door, and Ryder scrambles out, his hat still perched crookedly on his head. The two of us walk around the truck.
Bryce and Charli finally separate, though he keeps one arm around her waist.
“Charli, this is Marina Kincade.”
Her eyes immediately find mine. “Nice to meet you, Marina.”
“I’m happy to meet you too.”
She smiles warmly, and then her gaze drops. She steps out of Bryce’s arm and crouches down until she’s eye level with Ryder.
“Well, hello there.”
Ryder looks at her from beneath the brim of his giant hat.
“Who is this handsome little cowboy?”
Ryder looks up at me.
I nod.
He looks back at Charli. “I’m Ryder Cassel.”
My heart melts.
Charli’s eyes widen. “Ryder?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh.” Charli presses a hand over her heart. “Well, Ryder, you might be the cutest cowboy I’ve ever seen.”
He grins as she reaches out and gently adjusts his hat.
“That is a very serious cowboy hat.”
“My mamaw got it for me for my birthday.”
“Well, your mamaw has excellent taste.”
Ryder looks at the barn. “Are those your horses?”
Charli nods. “Sure are.”
His eyes go enormous. “Can I see them?”
“You absolutely can. Might even get you in a saddle, little cowboy.”
He looks at me like I just brought him to Disneyland.
I laugh. “Looks like you’ve made a friend.”
Charli stands and looks at me again. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal him some this weekend.”
“Um, I’m thinking you might be a little busy,” I say.
She waves me off. “Never too busy for a ride. Besides, my sister Matty likes to remind us all that the ranch never stops. Not even for a wedding.”
I glance down at Ryder. “In that case, I think he might let you steal him for a bit.”
“I will! I will!” Ryder chimes.
Now that I’m standing here, taking it all in, I realize the view from the farmhouse is even more stunning. The rolling pastures stretch in every direction, and the mountains—or maybe just the distant ridges—rise beneath the endless sea of blue.
“It really is breathtaking here,” I say.
Charli looks around, then back at me. “Thank you.”
Charli’s eyes flick toward Bryce. Then she looks back at me. “You haven’t even seen the best part.”