Chapter 11 Rowan
ROWAN
The ranch looked different in the daylight.
Not safer.
Just sadder.
Tex’s bike rumbled down the dirt road toward the house, dust curling up behind him in long pale clouds, and I followed behind in my truck, my elbow resting on the open window, the warm morning air whipping strands of my hair across my face as the familiar land stretched out around us.
Usually coming home settled something inside me. Today my stomach twisted tighter the closer we got.
Tex slowed his bike and pulled to one side to park next to two other bikes, and I drove my truck into its usual spot by the front porch. He cut the engine on his bike and climbed off, moving toward two other bikers and having a muted conversation with them.
I shut off my engine and got out, walking toward them, chin high, shoulders back, though I felt anything but confident right now. As I walked, their gazes shifted between one another and Tex looked at me, his expression warring with something. And then I saw why.
As the main shed came into view, my breath caught. “Oh no…”
The side of the large shed was blackened, the wood charred and blistered.
One of the large sliding doors had been partially burned, the edges curled and dark.
The ground nearby was still smeared with ash and wet dirt where someone must have put the fire out.
A long breaker had been dug into the ground between the shed and the animal barn, and I could see that the fire had begun to lick toward the barn before mercifully being stopped.
Tex came to stand by me, and for a moment neither of us moved.
“Looks worse than it is,” he finally said.
I grunted a response, unable to vocalize what I wanted to say. And then I moved toward it, suddenly desperate to see inside. To look at the damage that had been done.
As I pulled open the doors, the smell hit me first.
Smoke.
Burned wood.
I walked slowly, my boots crunching on dirt ground. My chest felt tight as I reached out and touched the blackened wood.
“This was my dad’s favorite place,” I said quietly. “He used to come out here all the time. He’d grab a bale and bottle of Jack and he’d open the doors wide and sit and watch the stars.”
Tex stood beside me but didn’t say anything.
I sighed heavily and looked around. The interior was mostly intact, but the fire had licked along the wall where the hay bales had been stacked.
A few of them were scorched and half soaked where someone had thrown water over them.
I shook my head at the damage and destruction, at the loss.
But it was relief that I mostly felt. Relief that it hadn’t been the main barn with the animals in it.
I turned and left, heading toward the barn, heading straight to the stalls.
“Hey, girl,” I whispered as I moved to the first one.
Daisy stuck her head over the gate, ears pricked forward. Relief flooded through me so fast it made my knees weak.
“You’re okay.”
She made a soft noise and nudged my shoulder like she always did, and I smiled at her, stroking the spot under her chin.
Tex leaned against one of the posts, watching. “They’re all good?”
I moved down the row, checking each stall. “Yeah,” I said after a moment. “They’re shaken up but they’re fine.”
Outside, boots crunched on gravel. The two younger guys Tex had been talking to outside approached the barn, both wearing leather cuts with the Kings patch. Their vests still looked stiff and new and I frowned, panic rising. I looked to Tex for confirmation that they were okay.
“They’re prospects,” he said, and I nodded, having no real clue what he was talking about. “They’re like, in training I guess. They’ll work harder than almost any other King because they want to be patched in.”
The taller one nodded at Tex. “Morning, brother.” He glanced at me politely before turning back to Tex.
“Everything stayed quiet after the fire,” he said. “We kept watch all night.”
Tex folded his arms. “You see anything at all? Anyone?”
Both prospects shook their heads.
“Nothing,” the other one said. “Just smoke and pissed-off horses.”
Tex studied them for a moment before nodding. “Good. You two can head back to the clubhouse now. Check in with JD and then get some shuteye. He’s sending men to guard the access road, but I’ll likely see you both later tonight.”
They hung around for a few more minutes before heading back toward their bikes.
Once they were gone, Tex turned back to me. “You okay?”
I was brushing Daisy’s mane slowly. “I will be.”
He stepped into the stall beside me and grabbed a bucket. “Show me where the feed is.”
I blinked at him. “You’re helping?”
He smirked. “Didn’t grow up in the country, sweetheart, but I can handle a horse well enough.”
I pointed toward the feed room. “Well, let’s see if that’s true, cowboy.”
For the next hour we worked side by side. I showed him how much grain each horse needed, and he carried the buckets like they weighed nothing. The horses settled as we moved through the barn, their nervous energy fading as routine took over.
At one point Tex reached up to scratch the nose of the big chestnut gelding in the last stall. The horse snorted and tried to nibble his sleeve.
Tex jerked his arm back. “Hey now, darlin’, easy.”
“Watch him, he’ll chew on your hair if you get too close.”
Tex eyed the horse suspiciously. “He?”
I pointed between the horse’s legs. “If that thing is anything to go by.”
Tex looked down and his eyes widened. “Jesus.”
I laughed even louder. “You know that saying ‘hung like a horse.’” I winked at him and I was pretty sure his cheeks turned pink beneath his thick beard. “I think he likes you.”
“Pretty sure he’s plotting something,” Tex grumbled.
The sound of my own laughter surprised me. After everything that had happened, I hadn’t expected to feel anything close to normal again. But standing there in the barn with the morning sun pouring through the slats and Tex beside me, it almost felt like the old days. Almost.
Later that evening, the ranch quieted down.
Tex had told me he was staying the night.
When I’d tried to protest he’d scowled so hard I rolled my eyes and relented, not wanting him to have an aneurism.
I didn’t put up much of a fight because, if truth be known, I was glad he was staying—though I’d never admit that to him.
After everything I had learned this past couple of days about my mom and dad, and the cartel, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be on my own.
The sky outside was turning soft pink and gold as I stood in the kitchen, seasoning two thick steaks on a plate.
“There’s beer in the fridge,” I said, and he walked over and opened the door, pulling out two bottles. He popped the caps and placed one in front of me.
Tex leaned against the counter behind me, watching. “You cook like this every night?”
“Most nights.” I turned them over, massaging the oil and seasoning into the other side. “After a long day out on the ranch a good meal is in order, don’t you think?
“You might just ruin me, sweetheart.”
I snorted. “You’ll survive. At least until after dinner.”
“What happens after dinner?” he asked, lifting a bottle of beer to his lips.
I glanced over almost shyly, watching the easy movement. “You’ll see.”
The steaks sizzled as I dropped them into the cast iron pan and I headed to the sink to wash my hands. When I turned back around, Tex handed my beer to me and our fingers brushed for a split second.
Something warm flickered through my chest.
I took the bottle. “Thanks.”
We ate at the small wooden table by the window, the one my dad had built years ago. Tex devoured his steak like a man who hadn’t had a real meal in weeks.
“Damn,” he said after the first bite, “that’s good.”
I smiled despite myself. “High praise.”
“Seriously,” he said. “If the ranch thing doesn’t work out, you’ve got a future as a chef.”
I chuckled, my heart feeling lighter despite the sorrow it held. “It’s just a steak, cowboy, calm down.”
After dinner we cleaned up, with Tex helping with everything from the dishes to taking out the trash.
Later, we popped two more bottles open and stepped out onto the porch.
Night had settled over the ranch, the air cool and quiet except for the distant sound of crickets.
It was my favorite time of day, when everything was calm and a different world came alive.
The moon shone down, fat and pretty, casting a yellow glow over the land, and I sighed.
Tex rested his forearms on the railing. “Pretty place you got here.”
I followed his gaze across the land. “Yeah, my parents sure loved it. I love it.” My voice cracked on the last word. “I don’t want to lose it, Tex.”
He nodded slowly. “We’ll protect it. I promise.”
The words were simple. But something about the way he said them made my chest tighten.
“Why are you doing this? You barely know me,” I said softly.
Tex turned his head to look at me and the moonlight caught in his eyes. “Don’t have to know you long to know you’re worth protecting.”
For a moment neither of us moved. The air between us felt heavier somehow, charged full of something I couldn’t name.
I thought I might kiss him at that moment—Lord knows my body definitely wanted me to, despite knowing it would be a very bad idea. Then Daisy whinnied from the barn, breaking the moment. I exhaled and leaned back against the porch rail.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For today.”
Tex shrugged. “Anytime.”
But the way he looked at me said something different. Something warmer. Something that made my heart beat just a little bit faster.
“I’m going to be here until this is over, Rowan. I’ve got you and I’m not going anywhere.”
I nodded, unable to speak. Because for the first time since all of this started, I didn’t feel completely alone; but more importantly, for the first time, I was glad.