29
Y ou’re my girl.
Three days later, and Charlie’s words still spin in my head like a record on repeat.
You’re my girl.
His tender words consumed every ounce of my soul. There’s a new energy between us, a fierceness in Charlie’s expression every time he looks at me.
Maybe because we’re wrapped up in each other.
Maybe because we’ve burned all the boundaries between us.
Maybe because I’ve all but moved into Charlie’s cabin.
He won’t leave my side. The flutter that night took everything out of me.
My mind, my heart; it drained me. But Charlie was there, helping me shower, keeping me steady when I stood.
It gave me a glimpse of how it could be if he knew about my SVT.
Tender and strong and protective. But I can’t do that to him. I won’t be his burden.
I rub my chest and track the familiar beat of my heart.
For the first time in my life, I’m truly scared.
What that night did to my heart is bad. It took me two days to get my bearings. I’ve never been like that before. What it means for my health—I don’t want to know.
What I know is that my clothes are in a drawer in Charlie’s room. My toiletries are next to his. Every night, I sleep in his strong arms, safe in his hold.
The closer we get, the more I ache that I’m lying to him.
Even though my brain is telling me this will end, someone will get hurt, my heart is all in.
I’m in love.
Something I’ve always wanted.
Something that makes my heart race.
Something that is my everything.
And that everything is Charlie Montgomery.
My cowboy.
I think I know what my father meant when he said loving someone means you eventually get hurt. Just because you know what’s coming, doesn’t make it sting any less.
It’ll hurt when I leave.
What if I stayed, though? The thought creeps out of my hopeful heart. I scowl, feeling my cheeks flush with warmth. It’s just silly lovesick dreams. Hope and nothing more. Sure, Charlie said I’m his girl, but it’s for the summer, right? It has to be. There’s no forever with me.
Crossing the kitchen floor, I sit at the kitchen table. Through the big window, I watch guests and hired hands stroll back and forth. Ominous black storm clouds elbow the sunlight out of the sky.
My gaze zeros in on one person in particular.
Colton.
He’s loping across the lawn, a two-way radio in his hand, his cowboy hat tugged down low on his face. I track his steps as he heads toward the barn.
Miss Ruby?
I shiver at the memory. His warm breath in my ear as I slowly lost consciousness.
It was him that night. I know it.
Now I have to prove it.
Intuition tells me my first stop is the belt buckle.
Because I’ve seen it before and now, I remember where.
I open my laptop, the new one Charlie had overnighted for me, and give a quick glance around the kitchen.
Charlie’s left me alone for a couple of hours, but it’s nearing noon, which means I have about ten minutes before he gets back and starts fussing. I love it when his broody face watches my every move, like he’ll put me back in bed if I try to lift anything heavier than a feather. It warms my heart.
I go to Lassomamav76’s TikTok account page and pull up the video of her and Ford. I watch it play through once, then, on my second viewing, I stab the pause button. She’s wearing the same belt buckle in her Instagram avatar.
Be Victorious. Be Valiant. Be Vicious .
I pull out my phone. I locate the image I took of Colton and zoom in.
“Oh my god,” I murmur shakily, my gaze locked on the photo.
The belt buckles match. The slogans, the turquoise, the crossed rifles. Stunned, I shut my laptop, then push up out of my seat, sirens going off in my mind.
Eyes watering, I walk to the window, folding my arms around myself. My heart pumps hard and I take slow breaths. I can’t get worked up. My heart needs me calm.
Even if it’s the last thing I feel.
It’s not an angry guest with a grudge. It’s sabotage. Colton wanted to hurt the ranch. He attacked me and Wyatt. But why? And how are he and this woman connected?
My stomach caves in on itself as I’m hit with a sinking feeling that I’ve made this worse for Charlie and his brothers. Me being here only caused trouble. Because the ranch isn’t failing, it’s thriving, and I’m the one responsible for it.
What if the danger isn’t over? What if it’s just beginning?
“Ruby.”
Charlie slides his hands over my shoulders, and I’m so startled I jump. So lost in thought I didn’t hear him come on.
I smile, trying to rope my hammering heart back into my chest. Angling my face up, I meet his lips, already inbound for mine. He pulls me into his large body, crushing me against him.
“What’s wrong?” His handsome face is a frown as he quickly picks up on my emotions. Damn it. He’s getting too good at it. “Sunflower, you okay?”
I open my mouth to tell him about Colton, but something in his face stops me. Our conversation from the night of my attack rings in my head.
No one puts their hands on you, Ruby. Do you understand me? No one touches my girl.
His admission to nearly killing a man doesn’t scare me. In fact, it makes me love him more. I understand why Charlie is who he is. Intense. Protective. Loyal and fierce. A man who would kill for the people he loves.
Which is why I can’t tell him.
I need to get answers first.
Because the minute he hears Colton was the man who attacked me, he’ll be out of this house so fast I won’t be able to stop him. Colton will be a dead man, and we’ll be without answers.
“I’m fine,” I say, bouncing into him and cupping his bearded jaw. “Just tired.”
He skims his thumb across my lower lip. “That’s why you shouldn’t be working.”
My fingers curl into his T-shirt and I bring him closer for a hit of his scent. Hay. Horse. I bury my face in his chest. “Cowboy, you’re fussing. What will the ranch think?”
“Don’t give a fuck what the ranch thinks.” He pulls back, cradling my face in his large hands to bring my gaze to his. “You are what matters, Ruby. You .”
“Charlie,” I whisper as my heart trembles from need. From the weight of his words.
“Listen, baby,” he murmurs, sliding a hand into my hair. “I gotta go out for a few hours.”
I nod.
“I want you to stay in the house, Ruby.” He says it forcefully, his brows furrowed deep as he stares down at me.
I let out a deep breath. I don’t like the look in his eyes. “Where are you going?”
As if in answer, the front door swings open.
A minute later, Ford, Davis and Wyatt are in the kitchen.
Ford points the baseball bat he’s carrying at Charlie. “Y’all ready to go hunt some wolves?”
I look at the bat, frown as hard as I can at Charlie. “What’re you doing with that?”
Ford pretends to knock one out of the park. “Practice.”
Davis shakes his head, rolling his eyes at his twin. “Leave the bat, Ford.”
Ford heaves an exaggerated sigh and leans the bat up against the wall. “Ruins all my fun.”
“That’s my job, brother,” Davis drawls.
“Don’t worry, Ruby,” Wyatt tells me, leaning his athletic frame on the kitchen island. His black eye’s faded to a dull yellow. He wiggles his brows. “It’s small-town legal.”
Teeth gritted, Charlie turns to his brothers. “Let’s finish this.”
The dangerous tone of his voice sends a chill down my spine, and I wrap my hand around his bicep. “Charlie.”
His face softens as he turns to look at me.
I bite my lip, eyeing the pack of angry cowboys ready to snap spines and break bones. “Don’t kill anyone on my account.”
A faint smile tugs at his bearded lips. Then he kisses me, once, twice. “Stay in the house, baby. And lock the door.”
“I will,” I lie. Adrenaline has my heart hammering.
He stares at me and I try to keep my face neutral so he can’t read what I’m about to do.
I wait for them to leave, and when I hear the rumble of the pickup truck echoing across the ranch ...
I pick up Ford’s bat.
Runaway Ranch is alive and electric on this sunny Wednesday afternoon. The guests are happy. A cool breeze blows. Sam waves people into the lodge, a surly smile on his sun-weathered face.
Baseball bat in hand, I sweep the hair out of my eyes as I trek across the pasture to the barn.
Charlie may be going into town today to pound someone’s face into hamburger, but I’m pounding pavement.
Curiosity and determination overtake rational thought. What would my father think? What would my brother say? Then I realize it doesn’t matter.
It’s not about them anymore. It’s about me and the choices I choose to make.
I have to do this.
I want to know why Colton and this woman are fucking with Charlie’s ranch. I have a personal stake in it.
Because by being here, I feel like I’ve made this all worse.
Colton’s in the barn, adding new bedding to the stalls. The horses are gone, out on rides or being cleaned by a farmhand.
I slip inside, leaving the door open. Just in case.
Heart hammering, I grip the bat tight, and before I can chicken out, I say, “Colton, hi.”
Colton’s head snaps up. It’s fleeting, but I see the shocked fear skitter across his boyish face. “Miss Ruby, hey. How goes it?”
My throat constricts.
What am I doing?
Colton could have meant to kill me that night, and here I am, up close and personal. But it’s too late to back out now. Swallowing down my nerves, I take a step toward him and force a bright smile.
“You think I could get another photo for Instagram?” I chirp. “I need to pair a quote with a cowboy.”
Straightening up, he fumbles with the pitchfork as if it weighs more than him. He’s angled his hat so the left side of his face is in shadow.
“I don’t know.” A nervous laugh squeaks out of him. “I’m sure you could get someone better. What about Sam? Hang on, I’ll get him.”
He starts for the door, but I stick the bat out, blocking his exit route. “Colton, wait.”
He freezes, and I notice the clench of his fists. My stomach turns, but I force myself through my fear. I move closer, but keep watch on the open door, in case I need to run or get away. I take low and shallow breaths, hoping to calm my rapid heartbeat.
“Take off your hat,” I tell him softly.
He manages a dry laugh. “What?”
I nudge his chest with the bat, willing my hands not to tremble. “Do it.”
To his credit, he doesn’t run. His hands move, and then he’s dragging the Stetson off his head. His black eye shines.
“You did it,” I breathe, more wondering than accusatory. My gaze falls to his belt buckle. “You attacked me.”
All the wind goes out of him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He drops the hat, his face twisting into a grotesque mask of regret. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to scare you. But then you fainted and wouldn’t wake up.” A sob racks his body. “I thought I had killed you.”
Despite what he’s done, sympathy wells inside of me.
“Why?” I ask, my mouth going dry. “Why would you do this?”
“Because.” He swallows like the explanation’s stuck. His eyes are wild, his mind elsewhere. Tearing his hands through his blond hair, he sinks into a squat. “I’m dead. I’m fucking dead.” His voice shakes with desperation. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I crouch beside him and meet his terrified gaze. My pulse is deafening in my ears, but I force a deep breath. “What was supposed to happen?”
Colton’s head drops and he covers his face with his hands. “Please don’t ask me that,” he pleads.
“That woman,” I muse, remembering the matching belt buckles and putting two and two together. “The woman from the video that got Ford into trouble. She’s your mother, isn’t she?”
A strangled moan rips out of him. “Fuck, he’s gonna kill me.”
“I won’t let Charlie hurt you,” I say earnestly. “He might get a swing or two in, but he won’t kill you.”
I hope.
Charlie.
He’s going to be so, so pissed at me.
“I’m not afraid of Charlie,” Colton rasps, squeezing his eyes shut and taking deep gulping breaths. “I deserve it. I deserve whatever he gives me. If he kills me, I’d be better off for it.”
I frown. “Then who are you afraid of?”
He shudders. “My father.”