Chapter 3
Two days pass as usual. Long days on the ranch driving cattle to new sections with Bandit working as a cattle dog—his favorite thing in the world.
Keeping the herd up with vaccinations and preparing the ranch for the harsh Montana winter.
Then finally, lunch in the afternoons at the Mess Hall—a steel shed designed to feed the workers and hold monthly meetings.
Except lunchtime is now an animalistic affair, as every cowboy, ranch hand, and man with eyes in his head vied for Sadie’s attention.
It was amusing watching the men embarrass themselves while I sat in the corner, pretending I didn’t care.
Pretending I didn’t want a shot with her while frustration built in my core.
Under different circumstances, I would’ve been the first in line.
Enter Sadie—jabbing me in the fucking ribs to shoot that temporary fantasy down.
She’s much stronger than she looks, and I don’t bruise easily, but there’s definitely a deep purple bruise blooming under my skin.
I ignore the pain and grab my toolbox, intent on fixing her anxiety-inducing front door now that she’s finally gone.
Running, or so I assume, with how she was dressed this morning.
It takes me all of ten minutes to tweak her door, adding a slow suspension.
No more banging doors sixteen times a day. Finally, a small win.
I’m not sure what was going through her mind when she sucker-punched me, but the look she gave could cut steel.
It’s the same look she’d given me when she slammed her door in my face.
And no, I’m not still thinking about the softness of her skin when I guided her out of my path.
For someone so aggravating and annoying, soft and supple skin is not something I expected.
She’s easily becoming the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met. With her “Good morning, Cowboy,” every damn morning, or “Goodnight Cowboy,” every damn night. She’s a goddamn home greeting system I never asked for.
She also insisted on blaring her radio—every fucking night. I don’t think I’ve slept properly in four days since she arrived. Thank God it’s Thursday and only one more workday until the weekend, which thankfully I have off.
Weekends for ranchers are quite different. There is no set “time-off” as the cows don’t just vanish on weekends and holidays. But we shuffle rotations on weekends, to give the workers family time, and rest so they don’t burn out.
And I’m definitely close to a burnout.
My lack of sleep has been playing tricks on my mind.
I desperately need the weekend to catch up on all the rest I’ve been missing since Sadie moved in, changing my entire peaceful existence.
I wanted to complain to my uncle about her many times, but I didn’t want to make waves.
Cole has done so much for me, and I didn’t want to challenge him.
He had his reasons for hiring her, so instead, I swallowed all my frustration, drowning it with beer every night.
Except tonight, Ryker guilted me into going to Elkhorn Tavern, but it would be a quick beer and then straight back home. I couldn’t wait to kick off my boots and enjoy the sounds of the leaves rustling in the breeze. Might even take a nap on my front porch on Sunday. It sounded like heaven.
For most of the day, Ryker and I moved 200 head of cattle to a new field, with the help of my dog Bandit and his black and white Border Collie named Oreo.
The perfect working pair. Ryker asked me a handful of questions about Sadie, which I responded to with grunts of irritation.
But other than that, he’s been quiet today.
And Ryker being quiet is concerning. That twenty-five-year-old man-child is never quiet.
I glance at my watch, realizing there’s only an hour left of the day.
A good time to take a break, and my poor knee could definitely use one.
With the cold weather settling in, it’s been giving me a bit of grief the past few days, locking me up uncomfortably.
Arthritis that I’ll have for the rest of my life because of a car accident when I was thirteen.
An accident that changed my entire life.
I stretch out my legs. The cows continue to graze in the pasture, with what’s left of the grass for the season, and Ryker stares at the ground covered in fallen leaves.
“Got your mind on something?” I inhale the last puff of my cigarette, tucking the used butt in my coat pocket.
“Took you long enough to ask,” he turns to me.
I frown, narrowing my eyes at him.
Ryker fidgets with his cowboy hat. “I’m just a bit nervous about tonight.”
“Nervous?” Why would he be nervous? “About what?”
But before he can respond, the sounds of hooves approaching pull us away. Ryker smiles, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
None other than Sadie Lane is heading towards us, astride her golden buckskin horse.
A feather sticks out of her tan cowboy hat.
Her blue flannel shirt is unbuttoned and open, revealing more of her chest than I feel is necessary.
It’s an unusually warm afternoon, and she’s clearly taking advantage of it.
Blake rides next to her, wearing his usual aviator sunglasses and a black hoodie, smiling at us.
Ryker grins like a fiend, with trouble on his mind. I don’t even have time to tell him to keep his mouth shut before they approach.
“Hey, Blake,” Ryker slaps his hand as he comes up.
“Blake,” I nod. But he knows I’m still pissed he knew about Sadie for weeks and didn’t tell me.
He grins at me like it’s funny, but it’s not.
“Hey, Cowboy,” Sadie smiles, pursing her pouty lips with a tilt of her cowboy hat.
Ryker laughs, loud enough that he bends at the waist. “Cowboy? Oh, I bet you hate that.”
I glare at him, not amused.
“Sadie,” I offer a rigid wave, hiding my sullen expression under my navy ballcap. Definitely not thinking about her perky tits, almost visible through the lacy tank top she’s wearing underneath her flannel. A similar shirt to the one she’d answered her door in last night.
Goddamn, I need sleep.
Ryker’s eyes go wide. “Oh, so this is the infamous Sadie Lane. Kit speaks highly of you,” he grins.
I jab him in the ribs, and he winces.
Sadie’s eyes narrow on me. “Really?” She doesn’t seem convinced. “I doubt Kit has any high regards for me,” she huffs, adjusting a vintage blue belt around her waist.
No, I did not.
“He can’t even say good morning or goodnight to me, like a normal person,” she continues.
“Then maybe you should stop saying it,” I fire back.
“Where’s the fun in that, Cowboy?” she smirks, and fuck me and the heat that decides to bloom in my cheeks.
Ryker glances between us, realizing the fire he ignited. He smiles with intention, opening his goddamn big mouth. “So, anyway, Kit says you’re a real handful. Which I’m just fine with. I like a handful,” he winks.
Is he… flirting with her? The man has no boundaries.
Sadie laughs. Blake smiles at me, laughing under his breath, and I debate on grabbing Ryker by the collar of his jean jacket and hauling him out back to kick his ass.
“Oh, I am,” she levels her eyes at me.
Well, at least she’s aware she’s a pain in the ass.
Ryker looks at Blake. “Well, is it true? Is she a handful?”
Blake lifts his hands in surrender, shaking his head. “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”
Ryker opens his mouth once more, but before he can speak, I interject. “We’ve got work to do.” I shove him towards the direction of the main barn.
Ryker turns around, pushing against my hold. “And what about you? What are you doing later, Sadie?”
I curse at him under my breath.
“Why do you ask?” she smiles.
“Meet us at the bar tonight and find out.” Ryker shows off dimples in the corner of his mouth.
He’s a dead man.
“What about you, Cowboy? What do you think about all of this?” Sadie asks me, to my surprise.
I stop in my tracks, turning around with my hands tucked into my jeans. Sadie eyes me down in a challenge, testing me with her wicked smirk. Ryker grins at me like a schoolboy, and Blake looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.
I sigh. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”
She huffs a laugh. “Whatever?”
“If you want to come, I can’t stop you.” Even if I wanted to. And she probably wouldn’t listen anyway. She can’t even call me by my real name, no matter how many goddamn times I ask her.
Sadie grins, seeming happy with that. “That’s right, you can’t. I’ll see you boys later then,” she grins and takes off on her horse, leaving dust behind her as she goes.
Blake laughs, taking off after her.
As soon as Ryker steps into the grand timber barn, I threaten to break his neck, shoving him against a stall door. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“She likes you,” Ryker grins.
My grip loosens. “She does not. She hates me. And this was not a part of the plan.”
“You can thank me later, bro,” he taps my chest, walking away to retrieve his horse from the barn.
So much for a quick beer and an easy night.
Two hours later, I return home astride Smoke. Hanging up his saddle and bridle on the old wooden fence before releasing him into the pasture. The golden grass is almost dead, wilting from the cold that’s settled in as the sun falls behind the mountains.
Sadie’s silent ninja presence damn near frightens me as I turn around, jolting a bit at her presence. “Did you do something to my door?” she accuses with a bite to her tone.
“Sadie.” I roll my shoulders. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Her eyes narrow as she crosses her arms, waiting for me to answer. “I fixed it, alright. The damn thing was driving me crazy.”
Silence passes between us. Her hair is down, longer than I realized, with wavy caramel locks brushing against a white, lacy tank top. A stark contrast that really brings out the bronze of her eyes. Not that I notice.
“You… fixed my door?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” My glare burns into her.
She smiles, amused. “Most guys take months if not years to fix things. Or they pretend they fixed it, when they really didn’t.”
Years? I’m definitely not that kind of man.
“I would’ve fixed it the moment you opened your front door, but you’re always home.” And it’s a damn pain in the ass, too. I missed my privacy.
“I see,” she smiles.
Bandit comes up beside me, sitting politely.
Sadie kneels, patting him on the head. “Oh, this must be Bandit. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Bandit whines and licks her face.
I cringe. “Bandit,” the rough edge to my voice makes him pull back immediately. “Sorry.”
Sadie laughs and stands, giving me a playful smile. “It’s okay. At least your dog likes me.”
A grumble shakes in my chest.
She takes a step towards me, catching me off guard. “Are you sure it’s alright if I tag along tonight? Wouldn’t want you to hate me any more than you already do.”
“I don’t hate you.” Hate is too strong of a word. I dislike Sadie, but I don’t hate her.
“You don’t particularly like me either.” A sheen of sweat glistens on her sun-tanned chest in the evening light. Highlighting a gold horseshoe necklace, leading to tiny freckles that trail down to places I need to stop thinking about.
“I don’t like most people.” I avert my gaze, tucking my hands in my pockets.
“I believe that,” she smiles, leaning on the fence. “He’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ve seen a horse quite like him. Blue Roan?”
“Yup,” I lean on the fence beside her. Her eyes drift to me, looking like she wants to know more. “His name is Smoke. I saved him from a kill farm a couple of years ago.”
I’d found him terrified with bones peeking through his skin. All it took was one look into his eyes, and I knew there was so much more life he was meant to live. Smoke is the best horse I’ve ever had. Loyal to a fault and as steady as a lake in the early morning.
Or he used to be before her mare moved in.
Sadie winces, then smiles at me in a way that makes my throat swell. “You know, that’s my dream. To rescue horses and let them run wild. Someday, when I have my own land at least.”
I laugh under my breath, staring at the ground.
“Is that funny, Cowboy?”
“I just assumed you dreamed of starting a rock band or something.” Seems to be what she enjoyed most. Listening to loud music and dancing like a maniac in her living room.
“That’s my second dream,” she smiles, stepping back from the fence. “I need to get ready. Meet me out here in an hour?”
I nod and freeze, replaying her words. “Wait… what?” Meet her… out here? Did she mean to say the bar?
“I’ll buy you two beers. One for my door and one for the lift,” she hollers out, walking away towards her house.
“Sadie, I’m not driving—”
“Also,” she turns around at the base of her front porch with a bright gleam in her eyes. “You have terrible reflexes. You should work on that.”
She’s gone before I can reject her proposal.
I grip the brim of my ballcap, tugging it backward before heading inside. For a moment, I was enjoying talking to that version of Sadie. But too quickly did those feelings go right back to bitter discontent.
Maybe I do hate Sadie. Just a little.