Chapter 30
thirty
. . .
brOCK
The hayloft in the green barn was the quietest place on the ranch, as long as you didn’t mind the dust and the wind trying to freeze your ears off.
I sat on a stack of alfalfa bales, boots dangling over the edge.
Below, the ranch was just starting to wake up.
Sunlight cracked over the Bighorns, throwing long shadows across the ground.
I’d come up here so no one in the house would overhear. It was cold, but that wasn’t why my hands were clammy.
I rubbed my thumb over the cracked screen of my phone. I was about to gamble everything. If this went south, Outlaw would pull their support.
If I screwed this up, I’d be failing Sienna too.
When the clock hit eight, I pulled up Dave Henderson’s contact. Dave was the guy at Outlaw who handled the athletes. I’d only spoken to him a handful of times, but after I’d pulled out of that rodeo last month, he’d made it clear that he didn’t like surprises.
I hit call. He picked up on the second ring.
“Wilder. Tell me you’re not calling to add to the pile.”
“Mornin’, Dave.”
“I’ve got some woman named Avery blowing up my phone, talking about assault charges. Tell me you didn’t actually punch the guy.”
"I didn’t punch him. Just grabbed him by the shirt and told him to get off my property. Guy came onto my land running his mouth, disrespecting the woman who’s been handling everything for me."
He groaned. “Jesus. They send a replacement and you do that? My boss is breathing down my neck. They’re talking about cutting your NFR funding just to make this Chicago firm shut up and go away.”
My leg started bouncing against the bale. I pressed my fist against my thigh to stop it.
“Then let ’em pull it. But if they do, I’m riding in Vegas with a blank shirt. That agency is the one causing problems. They fired Sienna last minute and sent some smug asshole. He told her she ruined her career because she couldn’t keep her legs closed. That’s unprofessional as hell.”
Silence stretched on the line.
Finally, he spoke again. “You’re telling me to cut ties with a major PR agency because you’re involved with your publicist?”
I didn’t hesitate. "Yeah. I am. And you didn’t seem to mind when you asked us to shoot those corny-ass videos together. She’s been doing a damn good job. I didn’t ask for any of this trouble, I just want to ride."
He muttered something under his breath. “This is your own fault, you know. You refuse to get an agent, so I had to contract that firm in the first place. The other guys don’t make my life so hard.”
I let out a shaky breath. “You’re not wrong.”
“First time you’ve agreed with me that easy.”
“So let’s fix it,” I said. “Cut the agency out and pay me directly. Sienna stays on to manage my end. I do the work, and neither of us gives you another headache.”
Another stretch of silence. I closed my eyes, my grip on the phone tightening until my knuckles ached.
“Christ,” he sighed heavily. “Alright. I can pitch it as a budget cut. But here’s the deal, Wilder—you are on zero-tolerance ice. If you don’t place top five in the first go-round at the NFR, we drop you. Immediately. And you’ll cover your own Vegas expenses out of pocket.”
My stomach dropped, but my voice stayed level. “Understood.”
“I mean it. You better ride like your life depends on it. And keep your hands in your pockets, no more fights.”
“You’ve got my word. Thanks, Dave.”
I hung up.
I exhaled, watching the white cloud of air frost up and vanish. The heavy knot I'd been carrying since yesterday finally loosened.
I climbed down the ladder from the loft and walked back toward the house. The morning was bitter, the frost crunching like broken glass under my feet.
Wren was leading Moose out to her truck, dressed in leggings and a fleece pullover—likely taking him for a run down by the river. I quickly ducked behind the shed before she could spot me.
I wasn’t ready to face the family just yet, even though I was grateful they’d stood by me and Sienna.
When I made it into the kitchen, the warmth from the stove hit me, thawing the chill. Sienna was standing at the counter in her gray fleece pajamas covered in little pine trees. Her hair was messy and her eyes looked tired, but the second she saw me, some of the tension in her shoulders eased.
“Morning,” she said quietly, holding out a steaming mug.
I took it, set it down, and pulled her into me instead. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in.
“Mornin’.”
“I couldn’t really sleep. My brain wouldn’t shut off.”
I rubbed her back. “I know. You were tossing all night. Come outside with me.”
She glanced out the window. “It’s freezing out there.”
“I’ll keep you warm. Come on.”
We grabbed our coffees and stepped out onto the front porch. The sun was fully up now, lighting up the mountains in the distance.
Sienna didn’t take the other chair. She stepped between my knees, turned around, and settled onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around her to block out the wind.
For a minute we just sat there, her back against my chest, sipping hot coffee in the cold morning air.
“I have to start sending emails,” she said. “If I can land even a couple freelance gigs by the end of the week, I might be able to cover Mara’s next tuition payment without using up my savings.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Brock… I appreciate the optimism, but optimism doesn’t pay the University of Illinois.”
“I got it covered.”
She went still. “I told you I couldn’t let you do that.”
I drained the last of my coffee and set the mug on the porch floor beside the rocker.
“I called Outlaw this morning. Told them that if you were fired, I’m not working with them anymore.”
“Why?” She twisted around to look at me, eyes wide. “Why would you do that?”
“Let me finish. I told him to drop the agency and pay me direct so you can stay on handling my stuff.”
She stared at me, her coffee mug suspended halfway to her mouth. “And they agreed?”
I looked down at her hopeful, exhausted face. If I told her about the ultimatum—that everything hinged on the first go-round—she would panic and blame herself. I swallowed the truth.
“Yeah. He wasn’t thrilled, but he agreed.” I brushed her hair back from her face. “Told him you’ll still be working with me from now on… but only if you want—”
“Of course I want to. I want to stay here with you.”
A small smile tugged at my mouth. “That’s settled then. You’re free, Starlin’. You work for yourself now, just like me.”
She set her empty mug down on the porch floor. For a long moment she just looked out over the pastures, the horses moving along the fence line, the snow-capped mountains in the distance.
“But if we’re independent,” she said, “that means we can do whatever we want.”
I frowned. “I suppose.”
She turned fully in my lap so she was straddling my thighs, hands resting on my chest. Her brown eyes were bright.
“You don’t understand. Sponsorships are temporary. One bad fall and they’re gone. We need to build something that lasts.”
I shifted underneath her. “Like what?”
“Wild Sage.”
I frowned. “You mean like expanding the ranch?”
"No, I was thinking we could build a lifestyle brand. Show what life is actually like out here."
I stayed quiet for a second, staring past her at the barn and the paddocks, trying to wrap my head around it.
I was proud of this place, but I didn’t like the sound of selling our life like it was some product.
“Dad considered opening part of the place up to tourists once. We decided against it in the end. This is our home… not something to put on display.”
Sienna rested her hands on either side of my face.
“I know it means everything to you,” she said gently. “I’m not talking about turning it into some kind of show. We’re already creating content for Outlaw and Ryder anyway. Why not do it for ourselves?”
I let her words sink in. She wasn’t wrong. I was already selling my name and face for my sponsors. At least this way we’d have more say in it.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know, Starlin’… this ranch has always been ours, not something we perform for strangers.”
She brushed her thumb along my jaw. “I know. And I’m not suggesting we perform. We’d just let people see what’s already here. If your family is open to it, we could let them appear in some posts, like we did with the clothes… but only if everyone’s comfortable.”
I chuckled. “Colt would be all over that.”
I had never handled my social media. Before Sienna, Wren and Colt did it for me.
“How many people are even watching us right now?” I asked.
She pulled out her phone, tapped a few times, and turned the screen toward me. The numbers were in the hundreds of thousands.
My eyebrows went up. “That many?”
“Last video series hit five million views. The accounts have been growing fast.” She studied my face. “You okay?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really follow all that. But I never thought it was that big.”
I looked out over the land that had been in my family for generations. The idea of putting our life online still felt strange. But the thought of Sienna building something here, with me, felt right.
I cleared my throat. “You really think we can pull this off?”
“I know we can. I’m damn good at this, Brock.”
I let out a rough laugh. That little “damn” rolling off her tongue made something warm tug in my chest. She even sounded like me now.
The name didn’t sound half bad. Wild Sage. Hell, I’d probably wear the hoodie myself.
I slid my hands up to cup her face and kissed her properly, tasting coffee and cold morning air.
“Alright, Starlin’,” I murmured against her lips. “Let’s build something that lasts.”