17. Wylde West Girl
Wylde West Girl
Colt
After Bozeman, in the middle of hauling hay, tending to Silver, and working my ass off down Ash’s list of prepping the ranch for winter, my plans changed.
I’d go home for a couple weeks in December, see Mom, help a bit at her Flora’s Diner, eat too much of her cooking, all my favorites, and let my sisters fuss over me.
Then I’d come right back to the ranch, to the work that had started to feel less like healing and more like living.
Back to Ivy.
It wasn’t a forever plan. I wasn’t ready to call it that. Hell, she probably wasn’t either. But it was the first plan I’d made in over a year that didn’t end with me loading a duffel bag onto a bus heading east, and never returning.
I got to the prairie at the top of the hill early for church.
The sky was gorgeous, in the way only Montana could paint it, big and blue and going gold and purple at the edges where the sun started its descent.
Ash had the grill going. Knox was hauling a cooler from the back of the truck while Eldon and Anson set out food.
Willow was humming, while helping, with Ro buzzing around her.
The smell of mesquite and charcoal thickened the air, mixing with pine and nature.
I loved Sunday nights here. No agenda. No drama. Just food and fire and easy company that made me forget I’d ever been anywhere else. Holly Creek seemed like a lifetime ago. The ship, like someone else’s life entirely. Somehow Montana replaced them both, settling deep in my bones.
More of the guys started arriving. Ivy’s truck rattled up the hill. I walked over to greet her. The grin that broke across her face through the windshield hit me right in the sternum.
She hopped out onto her running board, holding a foil-covered dish balanced in one hand, tossing her golden hair loose and sun-streaked over her shoulders with the other.
She wore a pretty sweater, too far down covering her ass for my tastes, but at least bared one shoulder.
Gazing at her creamy skin there made my thoughts go sideways.
Mm. Her and those skirts she liked to wear—hard to tell which I preferred her in more, those or tight Wranglers.
She made a damn fine country girl. That young guy who left Holly Creek to join the Navy would never have thought he’d end up with a woman like her.
“Oh good, my hero,” she called, glancing down. “The grass is wet again.”
“You could wear real shoes, you know, Miss Fancy Boots.”
“These are real shoes.” She wiggled a pretty boot that had bling on it. “They’re just not practical shoes.”
“Climb on.” I turned my back, crouched, and she hooked one arm around my neck, the dish held high in her free hand like a trophy.
I held her behind the knees. Her laugh vibrated against my back, and her thighs tightened around my ribs as I walked.
The press of her mouth against my ear, her breath with the faint berry and vanilla sweetness of the lip balm she wore, driving me out of my mind.
“Careful with the goods,” she warned.
“The casserole or you?”
“Both, of course.”
I heard other vehicles arriving as I carried her across to the food table and set her down.
She positioned the dish just so, then turned and looped both arms around my neck.
She kissed me; these moves now natural. That was just what we did now, kissing all the time.
And it felt so goddamn good I didn’t have a word for it.
I pulled her in tighter, hands settling at her waist, and wouldn’t dare go lower with Ro and Eli running around.
My mouth found the spot below her ear, and I let my voice drop enough that only she could hear me.
“There’s a clearing past the treeline,” I murmured.
“Thought we could take a walk after dinner. Private walk.”
“Is that so?” She bit her bottom lip and her eyes went half-lidded, turning every coherent thought in my head to mush.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I could be persuaded,” she whispered, and then her fingers traced the collar of my shirt, and I swore the temperature went up ten degrees. I leaned in to claim her lips once more—
“Well, Chelsea. I guess we now know why Colt has been dragging his feet about coming home.” A woman’s voice I knew well came at me from behind us.
Every muscle in my body locked.
Ivy pulled back, tilting her head, her hands still on my chest, her eyes going wide at the sight. I turned, already knowing who I was going to find, the ground shifting beneath me because my two worlds were colliding.
There stood my sisters and brothers-in-law, Richard Buchanan, too. In Montana. Arriving apparently without warning.
Maisy crossed her arms, her eyebrows raised to her golden hairline.
Chelsea, beside her, had her mouth pressed tight in that way she did when she was trying not to cry or laugh and hadn’t decided which yet.
Rex, Richard, and Brooks stood off to the side, taking in the view.
The only family missing were my Mom, Richard’s wife, and all the kids.
My sisters looked good, better than I remembered.
Both in dark leggings and sweaters and scarves and fashionable hiking boots with socks scrunched over them.
Designer things they’d buy in New York thinking they’d be practical for a trip to Montana.
Both of them, tanned and sharp-eyed, radiated the particular energy of Calhoun women on a mission.
The guys were more practical in denim, boots, flannels, and down vests.
Behind them, Daisy walked up from her truck, hands raised like she’d surrendered. “These people were wandering around the barn, looking lost,” she explained. “Said they are your sisters, Colt. So I brought them to church.”
I should have answered those three missed calls earlier.
I’d seen them come in while working with Silver on the lead line, easing him back into exercise, too focused on my work and thinking about being with Ivy this evening.
She always made for a beautiful distraction.
I’d told myself I’d deal with family later.
Later had apparently decided to show up in person.
“Maisy? Chelsea?”
They flew into my arms, faces pressed against my cheeks, squeezing me with big-sister ferocity.
The three of us formed a tight knot, and I won’t lie, my throat closed up.
Guess I’d missed them more than I’d let myself think about, because thinking about home meant thinking about leaving, and I hadn’t been ready to do that yet.
Only now, with Ivy in the picture, thinking about staying meant leaving my family back east.
“You look so grown up. Huge. My God, what did they feed you in the Navy?” Chelsea quipped, pulling back to study my muscles with damp eyes.
“Montana agrees with you,” Maisy said, and her gaze slid past me to Ivy, who was standing very still by the table with her hands clasped in front of her. “Or maybe it’s not just Montana.”
I turned and reached for Ivy, bringing her in with a hand on the small of her back. She stepped forward, but I could feel a slight stiffening in her spine, like she was trying to figure out her place among them all.
“This is Ivy Wylde. Owner of Wylde West Outfitters. The President of the Forest Grove Chamber of Commerce. And, well, my girlfriend.” I grinned, puffing out my chest, proudly showing her off.
“Ivy, these are my sisters—Chelsea, the oldest, Maisy, the middle, and their husbands, Rex Buchanan and Brooks Bellamy. The other man is Rex’s brother, Richard. ”
Like the town charmer, warm and polished and impossible not to like, Ivy gushed.
“Oh my God, you two are gorgeous,” she said, taking Maisy’s hands. “I see where Colt gets his looks. You both must come into town to my shop before you leave. I’ll get you fitted with cute western boots to take back to New York. Promise me.”
They beamed at her, and Ivy was perfect, because she always was when performing. Only I sensed a fracture underneath. What was that about?
I walked everyone through the rest of the introductions, starting with the Wylde sisters.
Daisy, whom they’d already met, and Sage, who smiled politely from behind her cup of cider.
I didn’t see Poppy around to introduce her as the last Wylde sister, probably at college instead of coming home for the weekend.
Knox made sure all the men got beers. Ash shook their hands, and Willow hugged my sisters as if she’d known them for years.
Eldon offered the ladies strawberry wine.
Ro and Eli demanded to know if these newcomers could ride horses, and then looked impressed when my sisters told the kids all about the horses they kept at home back in Richard’s barn, and filled them in on their own children and their ages, showing pictures on their phones.
It was like my two worlds were now one, forming a big family.
Dinner was great, filled with good food, although it was hard to keep up between the pockets of conversations. Dusty got cornered by Richard, discussing animal husbandry. Maisy somehow got the recipe out of Eldon for the strawberry wine, complimenting the flavor and texture and color of it.
Ash and Rex and the other men discussed Hollis Ranch, with the deal done.
Part of their mission for this trip was for them to meet the Hollis’s, and start planning what to do with the land.
The family would still be left with the working part of their place.
While Rex and Richard would develop the rest of it into smaller parcels for their vacation homes and some other ideas they had.
Through it all, Ivy and I were quiet. I kept my arm around her back, caressing her shoulder with my fingers. Possessive, like I wasn’t quite ready to integrate my new life fully into my old.
Conversation turned eventually to Holly Creek, everyone curious to hear about their small town compared to Forest Grove.
“It’s well known for being a Christmas town,” I supplied. My sisters filled in the rest: the special holiday events and things to do. Almost made me miss it, hearing them talk.