10
I run.
For Ruby’s fucking life.
She’s sitting in the round pen where Wyatt keeps the “demon horses.” Wild horses he rescued from bad situations that still need to be broken.
The horse could trample her.
That single thought has me racing to Ruby like it’s ripping out my fucking soul.
She stares, unsure why I’m running at her like a damn idiot. And then she waves at me.
Fucking waves.
I don’t have time to be angry. I have to get her out of there.
The horse thrashes around, and the bars clang as it ricochets off and around. When the horse’s hooves barely miss crushing the top of her hand, Ruby realizes pretty damn quick why she shouldn’t be in that pen.
Bright blue eyes wide with panic, Ruby crab crawls backwards. By feeling blindly and gripping the bars, she pulls herself to standing. She’s trying to climb up, but the flailing horse whipping up dust and grass is making it hard for her to get a good grip.
In my periphery, I see Wyatt racing his horse to the pen. Fallon follows close behind. Ruby flinches, fear snapping in her eyes like a downed wire. Her rose-gold hair catches the sun as she presses her small frame against the bars.
And that’s when I see her.
Maggie.
Maggie, in the alleyway, smiling that smug smile she wore like a badge, waiting to compete in her last barrel race of the season.
Only minutes before she could compete, her horse got spooked and somersaulted backward on top of her.
I fell to my knees in that arena and screamed.
I didn’t stop until my father took me to the hospital, where we waited to hear that Maggie was gone.
I wanted to kill that horse, blast its brains out with a shotgun because it had stolen Maggie away from me.
I couldn’t protect her. My one damn job in life and I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t save her.
I couldn’t.
And then the memory—the nightmare—clears.
Time speeds up.
Sound returns and I’m at the pen.
Heart hammering against my rib cage, I grab the middle bar and slide myself beneath the lower rung. I roll across the ground, then rocket up to stand beside Ruby.
She reaches for me, her face pale. “Charlie—”
I rush in front of her, putting my body between her and the thrashing horse. “Go,” I order roughly. Her petite frame trembles against mine as her hand snakes up over my shoulder, sending a raging fire down my spine.
Adrenaline competes with attraction, but only one wins out.
I keep my gaze locked on the horse because if I see her face, I’ll lose it. “Get up on the bars, Ruby, and climb. Now!”
She doesn’t argue, thank fuck.
She scrambles up, and Wyatt’s there, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass to get a good grip and pull her out. And hell, we’re going to have a talk about that later, but right now, I have to get my ass out of here in one piece.
“Charlie, hurry up, man!” Wyatt shouts.
I grab the lower rung and swing myself under right as the horse’s hooves come down.
“Fucking close,” Wyatt says, breathing heavily.
Too close.
I get to my feet and stare at Ruby.
She must see the look in my eyes because she takes a step backward.
Now I’m livid.
Wyatt clamps a hand on my shoulder, reining me in. “Dude. Chill. It’s not the same.”
“It is the same,” I snap, then whip my head to Ruby.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Charlie,” she breathes out, blinking back tears. Her hand, pressed to her heart, shakes. “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know because you don’t work here,” I shout. “Because it’s dangerous, and you pulled a dumb stunt that could have gotten yourself killed.”
She flinches.
“Shut up, Charlie.” Fallon gives me a keep talking and I will kill you look. “She feels bad enough without you barking at her like an asshole.”
“You shut up,” I tell her, not in the mood to deal with Fallon McGraw’s lecture.
Wyatt bristles, anger in his eyes. “Hey now—”
“You too.” I turn my hard gaze back to Ruby. She looks so damn pretty—so innocent—with the strap of her dress loose over her bare shoulder and a dusting of dirt over her face. Anger and worry curdle in me again. “What the hell were you thinking? What were you even doing up there—”
She steps up to me, blue eyes flashing. “I wasn’t thinking because I know nothing about this ranch because you won’t talk to me, you big asshole.
” She pokes a finger into my chest and I’m effectively silenced.
“I may be a pushover, and I may say yes more times than not, but I will not be yelled at by some rude cowboy who can’t even act like an acceptable human being.
And if I can remind you, yelling is how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. ”
“She’s gotcha there,” Wyatt mutters.
Fallon and I both round on him. “Shut. Up.”
Looking back at Ruby, I clear my throat, but the apology sticks. Sweat runs down my back. My chest heaves, the air trapped in my lungs. Fuck. Her searing glare is like a red-hot poker on my tongue. Before I can get anything out, she beats me to the punch.
“If you don’t want my help. Fine. Fix it yourself.” Without another word, she turns on her heel and storms off.
I stand there blinking, feeling like shit for yelling at her, for acting like a maniac. Seeing Ruby in that pen fucked with my head.
Her earlier words pushed me over the edge. I’d love to do that.
All I wanted to do was grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. Tell her she’s fine the way she is. Safe. Beautiful. Quirky. She doesn’t need to ride a horse. She doesn’t need to be wild.
Wild gets you killed.
That thought has a hard sort of agony calcifying in my chest.
“You know you’re going after her,” Wyatt drawls, coming to stand beside me.
We both watch as Ruby hurries up the road to the cottage. She’s fast, already halfway back by now.
I inhale deep to calm my racing heart. Letting her run off doesn’t sit right with me. “Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair. My Stetson’s on the ground next to the barn. “Any advice?”
Wyatt shrugs. “Be yourself, man.”
“That’s what they say when you start kindergarten.”
“Who says you’re not?”
Scowling, I take a step forward, then pause. On the ground, buried in the dirt, is a small circle of silver. I pick it up and brush it off. Ruby’s bracelet. I noticed her playing with it at The Corner Store. Blue opals on each end make it look like it holds the orbs of the universe.
I slide the bracelet in my back pocket and storm across the ranch, realizing Ruby’s right.
Everything about today—it’s my own damn fault.
I was too busy being pissed off to teach her about the ranch.
Christ, I told her every horse was as gentle as a kitten.
She offered to help with chores and I shit all over that.
That, in and of itself, is impressive. Half the guests on the ranch have to be sweet-talked to pick up a fucking shovel.
If I had taken the time to show her, if I weren’t so clouded by my past, she wouldn’t have been in this mess.
My stomach twists.
Shit. What if she’s hurt?
I was too busy screaming at her to even check and see if she was okay.
Feeling like I’m approaching the firing squad, I inhale a breath when I reach her cottage and hammer on the door.
The door whips open. My gaze travels down.
Ruby stands there, rose-gold hair slung over one slender shoulder, one hand on the doorknob like she’s readying herself to fling it closed.
“What do you want?” Stunning, angry blue eyes stare up at me. “Come to yell at me some more?”
“No, I ...” My eyes can’t help but catch the inside of the cottage.
On the kitchenette counter is a small vase of wildflowers, along with small packets of tea and a Runaway Ranch mug purchased from the gift shop.
She’s set the kitchen table up as a workstation, and country music plays softly from the radio.
From my vantage point, I can see her bedroom and the open suitcase resting on the bed.
She’s settled in. Made this place a temporary home.
And now she’s going to leave.
But go where? And stay with who?
A brick settles in my stomach.
Ruby sends me a withering glare. “If you’re looking for something to say, it’s called an apology, Charlie. Do you own a dictionary? Look it up.”
A smile tugs at my lips. Seeing the sweetheart turn to a spitfire is goddamn adorable.
Squaring her shoulders, she says, “I’m good at my job, and if you don’t want me here, I’ll go. But I’m not leaving Resurrection. I’ll sling beers at Nowhere and you can stay the hell away if it’s so unsafe. But I won’t stay here and get yelled at or scolded or—”
“Look, you’re right,” I growl.
She’s silent, but her blue eyes still flash fire.
I lower my voice and hold out my hands. “I yelled because this is a ranch and that’s what we do when there’s trouble. It was a close call, and it scared me. But I overreacted. I shouldn’t have yelled. I won’t do it again.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “Wow.” And then she smiles, so bright it nearly takes me down. It’s a smile I don’t deserve, but damn, I eat it up. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to fall into a horse pen today, but it looks like that’s where we’re at.”
“Charlie.” She laughs and tilts her head like she’s examining me. “You made a joke.”
I grunt. “Yeah, well, I have my moments.”
Her eyes soften. “You should smile more. Because when you do, you look—” She breaks off in a wince. Her hand flutters up to press against her chest.
“You okay?” When I get no response, I duck my head to meet her eyes. “Ruby?”
In answer, her legs buckle.
I shoot a hand out and catch her around the waist, pulling her against me. In my arms, she’s small, barely reaching the middle of my chest.
Her head falls back on a gasp. “I’m fine.”
Bullshit. It’s the second time she’s done this since I met her.
Keeping her against my chest, I move her to the couch, where we both sit down. I brace her up against my shoulder, not trusting her to sit on her own. I run my gaze over her.
Fuck but her face is pale.
“You okay?” A knot moves up and down in my throat. “You didn’t get hurt out there, did you?”
My own fault if she did.
“No.” She gives a faint headshake. “I didn’t get hurt.” Cheeks stamped pink, her eyes flutter shut. “I need to sit for a second. I’ll be okay.”
I stiffen when she lays her head on my shoulder.
“Can I do this?” she asks.
I wrap my arm around her, tucking her in close. “Yeah, you can.”
Tiny and warm, she curls up against me. Her knees rest on my thigh and a little sigh pops out of her mouth.
Jesus Christ, I’m getting a contact high from the feel of her.
Needing a distraction, I let my eyes rove, taking in her delicate features.
The soft pump of her pulse in her creamy white throat.
Her dark lashes. Her bee-stung lips. She’s sexy. Beautiful.
Too beautiful for the ranch.
Too dangerous for me.
Once again, my eyes land on the vase of wildflowers. “You like flowers?” I ask.
As stupid as the question is, it’s something to distract us. Because right now, the only one talking is the erection trying to punch through the front of my fucking jeans.
She hums. “I do. My father owns a flower shop back in Carmel. I started a social media account for his company. Bloom’s Blooms.”
I chuckle. “What’s your favorite flower?”
“Sunflowers,” she says into my shoulder, and I feel her mouth curve as she smiles.
“Why sunflowers?” I could listen to the lively melody of Ruby’s voice for days.
“They’re perennials.” At my grunt, she elaborates. “They’re sturdy and happy and you couldn’t kill them if you tried. Every spring, when the conditions are right, the soil soft, the sun bright, they grow back to live again. Come hell or high water, they survive. That’s what I like about them.”
I decide I like them too. Because at this moment, anything that’s Ruby’s favorite is automatically mine.
An easy silence blankets the room.
“How do I look when I smile?” I ask, my mind moving to her earlier statement.
“Hmm.” She laughs. “Less surly.”
Then, with a soft sigh, Ruby uncurls from my side. I resist the urge to pull her back to me and keep her close.
As she sits up, I pay close attention. She seems fine, thank God.
“Thanks for the use of your shoulder,” she says, smoothing the hem of her dress.
“Anytime. Here.” Adjusting myself, I pull the bracelet out of my back pocket. “I found this in the pen.”
She gasps and stares at the bracelet, looking like I’ve rescued her favorite puppy from the pound. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize it was gone.” She takes it from me and slips it on her delicate wrist. “It was my mother’s.”
Was.
Here and now, I decide I want the story behind the bracelet. The story behind Ruby Bloom. It means nothing—it can’t—but if we’re working together for the next three months, I might as well make the best of it.
“Stay,” I tell her.
Her shoulders slump. “Charlie ...”
“I won’t yell.”
“I don’t know.” Her pretty brow furrows. “I’m good at my job, but to do it right, I have to see how the ranch runs. I can’t do that if you won’t let me.”
Her stern words put me in my place, and I nod. “I understand. You’re right. I’ll let you do your job.” I stare down at her. “I don’t want you to go, Ruby.”
When I say the words, I realize I mean them. I want to keep this sweet, happy girl on my ranch. Close to me.
Some of the wariness leaves her expression. “And you’ll answer my questions?”
“I’ll answer your questions. Tomorrow, I’ll show you the ranch. The right way.”
I offer a handshake and when she slips her small hand into mine, an electric sizzle races through my veins. This girl’s a drug and she doesn’t even know it.