9. Sierra
CHAPTER NINE
SIERRA
One week after my first night with Rogan, I still half-expect to wake up and find this has all been a dream. I stretch awake and find a note sitting on the pillow next to me.
My eyes can barely focus, but I peel it off and squint at the blocky handwriting:
His slightly crooked heart turns my heart to goo, and I smile so hard I nearly split my lips.
I hop out of bed and rush through my morning routine.
Then I pull on my softest jeans and a T-shirt with a faded print of a cactus on it.
After pulling on my old tennis shoes, I make my way through the quiet house, pausing to inhale the silence.
It’s new, this hush. For the first time in years, my life doesn’t feel like it’s running from an invisible threat.
Every step is my own. Every day, a choice.
I find Rogan standing by the open door of the stables, dressed in jeans and a soft blue shirt that clings to his arms just so.
He sees me and his whole face changes—shoulders loosen, eyes crinkle at the corners, mouth curves in that slow, deliberate smile he uses when he thinks no one is watching. God. I love this man.
“Good morning, Boss man,” I tell him as I walk up to wrap my arms around his waist.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” He glances down at me, and his expression goes serious in a heartbeat. “There’s something I want to show you. Something I’ve never shown anyone else.”
My brain runs wild with possibilities, most of which are NSFW and involve hay bales. But his eyes are soft, almost shy, and it hits me that he’s nervous. Rogan Hawke, the human wall of steel and scowls, is nervous to share something with me.
He turns and gestures for me to follow him into the stable. The inside is nothing like what I’d imagined a barn would be like. For one, it doesn’t smell like horse shit. Instead, it’s a mix of sweet hay, leather, and sawdust, with a faint undercurrent of something clean and sharp.
Stalls line both sides, each one immaculate. The horses inside watch us with solemn, liquid eyes, flicking their ears as we pass.
He stops at the last stall, where a dappled gray mare is already tacked up and looking impossibly majestic for this ungodly hour. “Meet Bluebonnet,” he says, running a hand down her neck. “She’s gentle. Smart as hell. Perfect for your first ride.”
My heart skips. Oh no. I’m not sure I’m ready to ride a horse. “You want me to ride a horse?”
He grins. “You’re going to ride with me.”
He swings open the stall door and leads Bluebonnet out. The horse sidesteps once, then stands perfectly still. Rogan hands me the reins, and I almost drop them, palms suddenly slick with nerves.
He senses it, steps in close. “You’ve really never ridden before?”
“Nope. I’m a horse riding virgin.” I pet Bluebonnet’s nose, and she nudges my shoulder.
He moves behind me and, in one smooth motion, cups my waist with both hands. My entire body goes molten.
“Don’t worry,” he instructs, voice low in my ear. “I’ll take care of you.”
My brain short-circuits at the feel of his hands on my overheated body as he helps me up onto the massive animal’s back.
Rogan steadies me, one hand on my back, the other braced on my thigh. “You okay up there?”
My heart goes full hummingbird as I settle onto the saddle, hands locked on the horn like it’s a lifeline.
He moves to Bluebonnet’s other side, adjusts the stirrups, then looks up at me. “You’re a natural.”
I snort. “If by ‘natural’ you mean ‘could fall off at any moment’ then yes.”
He swings up behind me in one fluid motion, and his chest presses against my back. His arms bracket mine as he takes the reins. He’s so solid and warm, and his scent wraps around me, warming me from the inside out.
“Ready?” he murmurs.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
He clicks his tongue, and Bluebonnet starts forward, walking slowly at first. I force my muscles to relax as I lean back against his muscular chest. The horse’s movement is smoother than I expected, more like gliding than bouncing.
We clear the stable, and the world opens up. The early sun is just cresting the edge of the world, turning everything gold. The fields are covered in dew and wildflowers, and in the distance, I see cows moving around the green fields.
Rogan steers us onto a narrow trail between two fences, arms tight around me, hands steady on the reins. I can feel the rumble of his chest against my back every time he speaks.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Better than okay.”
He rests his chin lightly on my shoulder and, just for a second, we ride in total silence. It’s so different from what I’d expected. I could totally get used to this.
As the horse settles into a slow, easy rhythm, my hands loosen their death grip on the horn and rest on Bluebonnet’s mane. I twine my fingers through the coarse hair and give her a little pat. Rogan keeps one arm banded across my waist, steadying me with every step.
His arm extends past my shoulder, finger pointing.
“Look there.” A russet blur vanishes into tall grass.
“Red fox. Same one that’s been stealing my chickens.
” We crest a small rise where a weathered fence post leans at an angle.
“Hawk built her nest on that post three springs running.” His voice warms near my ear as he gestures toward a green line wavering in the distance.
“Those willows mark my property line. The creek runs behind them. Spent every summer there as a kid. Fishing. Frog hunting. Trying to catch turtles with my bare hands.”
We ride on, the trail curving up and around a rise that overlooks the ranch. The view is breathtaking. Acres and acres of land, stitched together by fence lines and dotted with cattle, all spread out beneath a sky so blue it hurts my eyes.
Rogan pulls Bluebonnet to a stop at the very top of the rise. For a moment, neither of us speaks. The only sound is the wind in the grass, the slow, steady breathing of the horse beneath us, and the thump of his heart against my back.
He slips off the saddle and turns to help me down. I hesitate, then let myself slide into his arms. He catches me, hands strong and sure, and for a second, we just stand there, faces inches apart.
He kisses me, slow and careful, right there at the edge of the world. For a second, I am weightless. Nothing exists except the pressure of his lips, the taste of his mouth, and the way his hands linger at my waist like he’s afraid to let go.
We break apart, and he leads Bluebonnet off the path, tying her to a low branch. He comes back to where I stand, a little unsteady, and just looks at me.
“I want to show you something,” he says. He points to a huge, old oak tree, its branches spread wide like it’s holding up the sky. There’s a blanket already spread out beneath it, and a small basket waiting.
He planned all of this. For me.
He waits for me to speak, but for once, I’m speechless.
We cross the grass together, and he pulls me down onto the blanket, tucking me into his side. The sun is higher now, but the air is still crisp. He pulls a thermos from the basket and pours out two cups of coffee, handing one to me.
I sip, trying not to smile too much.
He sips and watches the horizon.
“I never wanted to share this with anyone,” he says, voice soft. “Not until you.” The words land right in the center of my chest and bloom. We sit there for quite a while, just enjoying the early Texas morning. I still can’t believe this isn’t all a dream.
“Sierra,” he says, and his voice breaks through my thoughts.
“I don’t know how to say this right. Hell, I don’t even know if there’s a right way.
” He pauses, sucking in a shaky breath. “Before you, this place was just dirt and buildings. All I did was work to keep it alive, never stopping to think what it was all for.”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m worried it’ll pound right out of my chest.
“But then you showed up, and everything started to make sense. The house got warmer. I started seeing colors for the first time in my life. You… you made this place a home. My home. I don’t know how you did it, but you did.
” He wraps his arms around me and holds me close.
“I can’t imagine waking up tomorrow and not seeing you.
Or the day after, or the next year. I don’t want to try.
” He huffs out a laugh, then looks down at me so intensely my insides melt.
“I know it’s fast, but I’m head over heels for you.
I love you, Sierra. I love you so much it makes me stupid. I want you with me. Always.”
For one wild, bright second, the world is suspended in amber. I can’t breathe. I can’t blink. All I can do is stare at him, words stuck in my throat.
Then everything in me snaps loose, and I choke out a laugh that’s half-sob. “I know it’s crazy, but I love you, too. I love you so much it hurts.”
He doesn’t move, just holds my gaze until I can’t stand it anymore. I drag his face down to mine and kiss him, hard and awkward and perfect. He kisses back like he’s starving, fingers in my hair and mouth devouring mine.
He pulls back, face unreadable for a second, then he stands up and pulls me to my feet. He digs into his jeans pocket and pulls out a small velvet box, then drops to his knees in front of me.
Oh wow. My breath halts in my throat.
He opens it, and inside is a ring—vintage, simple, the diamond set in a bed of filigree that looks like something out of a fairytale. My breath whooshes out in a single, ugly sob.
He holds out a yellow Post-it note.
I take the note and read it:
I can’t even get the word out, so I just nod, nod, nod, until my neck hurts, then I shout, “Yes!”
He throws back his head, shouts, and slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, then the palm, then every fingertip. He stands up and pulls me into his arms.
“You know,” he says, voice thick, “this was my grandmother’s ring. She said I’d know when I found the right woman to give it to.”
I bite my lip, overcome. “I love it.” I stare down at the ring. “And I love you, too.”
He kisses me again, so fierce it knocks the air from my lungs. We sit back on the blanket with my head on his chest and his arms wrapped around me like he’ll never let go. The sun climbs, the world wakes up, and every now and then, he brushes his thumb over my ring, just to prove it’s really there.
I rest my head on his shoulder and let him hold me, just like this, for as long as the world allows.
For the first time in forever, I am exactly where I belong.
And I never want to leave.