Chapter 3
Claire
The feed store’s bell jingled sharply as I walked inside, and I braced myself to put a couple hundred dollars on my credit card…
again. There wasn’t any way around it; the horses needed to eat, and I needed healthy-looking horses for when Cavendish Academy came for their tour of the ranch in two weeks.
“Morning, Claire.” Abby, the college-aged girl who worked the counter, smiled at me. And while she was usually the happy-go-lucky bubbly type, something about her smile today was too eager, almost forced, like she was waiting for something to happen.
I brushed it off and grabbed a cart. “Hey,” I replied, and pushed my cart towards the back where the horse feed was.
As I walked down the aisles, the hair on the back of my neck stood.
It was that same unsettling tickling feeling that came with being watched.
When I turned around, a trio of women by the salt licks jolted like I’d caught them stealing and turned abruptly, poorly pretending to be interested in the blocks of salt like they were the fountain of youth.
I didn’t have time to wonder why they were watching me and loaded my cart up with bags of feed, ignoring the unintelligible whispers that traveled down the aisle.
People gave me lingering, wary looks as I passed, but I chalked it up to everyone knowing about Mama’s worsening condition and feeling sorry for me.
By the time I made it back up front to check out, though, I was over it. I wasn’t a fan of being talked about or watched like some animal at the zoo.
“Want to fill me in on why y’all are watching me?” I asked, and Abby gasped, her eyes wide.
Cynthia, a middle-aged pre-K teacher with no life of her own, handed me the latest copy of the local newspaper, Wild Creek Gazette. “I take it you haven’t seen today’s Whispers yet.”
My stomach dropped. I ripped open the paper to the gossip column, Wild Creek Whispers.
The anonymous author somehow managed to find out everything about everyone and then published it in the paper for everyone to see.
It was juvenile, and I had always refused to read it, no matter how much Savannah tried to get me to.
Until now, when I was the focal point. Me and Beau fucking McLeod.
I blinked quickly, not believing what I was reading. I glanced up at the women, all of them with varying looks of pity and concern. It only pissed me off more.
The headline was in big, black, bold letters:
Hayes and McLeod? More like Hatfield and McCoy 2.0
“This can't be real,” I muttered to myself, skimming the article. It spoke of the failed merger, old rivalries being reignited, the Cavendish partnership, and the fact that Beau and I had both applied for it.
“Is it true?” Abby asked. “You and Beau are competing for the spot?”
“Of course it’s true!” Cynthia said. “It’s in the Whispers, and they’re never wrong.”
I swallowed back the bitter taste in my mouth. “I gotta go.” I pushed my cart out the door and threw the feed into my truck bed, nearly breaking the plastic bags and sending pellets everywhere.
“Hatfield and McCoy,” I scoffed, shaking my head as I peeled out of the parking lot.
Kind of a big stretch to compare us to them, surely.
But that was the Whispers’ M.O.—drama and making mountains out of molehills.
Nobody was out for blood here. Beau and I were grown adults; we knew how to be mature and civil about this.
Maybe.
My tires kicked up dust as I flew down Circle M’s driveway.
I hadn’t been here since I was a kid, but it all looked the same.
Lush pastures, cattle everywhere, pristine pens, the ranch’s stupid emblem on everything.
It was like they tried to own the universe or something.
Leave it to a bunch of men to throw their dicks around and stamp their brand on every single thing they could.
I hopped out of my truck, the engine still running—this wouldn’t last long.
A cowboy sauntered over on horseback. He didn’t even attempt to hide the fact that he was checking me out as he shot me a flirty grin. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
“Where’s your boss?”
“Mount?”
I had to bite back my smile. “No. Beau.” His own men didn’t even view him as the one in charge, and he expected to win a partnership with a company like Cavendish? It was just egotistical enough that I knew the Whispers had been right, and he had applied.
But I needed to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Pun intended.
The ranch hand pulled out a walkie-talkie because their land was so big they needed them, and a wave of envy hit me. I wasn’t one to feel that emotion often, but when it came to what Circle M had because they stepped on Golden Bridle’s neck, envy was one of the many things I felt.
“Beau. There’s a pretty girl here to see you,” he said into the walkie while staring at me.
I rolled my eyes, looking away from him. Cowboys were shameless flirts. Always had been, always would be.
My spine snapped straight at the sound of Beau’s voice coming through. Deep and gruff. “What? Who?”
“What’s your name, darlin’?”
“You must be new in town,” I said, and snatched the walkie out of his hand.
He just stared at me, offended, like I had dented his pickup.
My maturity was slipping through my fingers like sand, so the faster Beau got here, the better for us both.
“Beau. It’s Claire Hayes. I’m by the barn.
You’ve got two minutes to get over here before I come hunt you down. ”
The walkie went wild at that. Men’s voices overlapped one another with varying responses like, “Someone’s in trouble,” “Oooooh, Beau’s been a bad boy,” “I want to watch him get his ass handed to him.”
I handed the walkie back to the ranch hand. “You can get back to work now. I’ll be fine here,” I said with a condescending pat on his leg. He looked at me like he didn’t believe me, or like I’d set the barn on fire if left unsupervised.
I wouldn’t. Not today, at least, depending on how Beau behaved.
Beau showed up a minute and a half later—I timed it. I straightened off the fence that divided our properties as he got closer; he was all broad-shouldered bravado as he approached on his Palomino, smirking.
“You can pet her if you want,” he said knowingly. “Daisy won’t nip at ya.” I hated that she was one of the prettiest horses I'd ever seen, with her blonde coat and white mane, but I hated that Beau knew I thought so more.
He spoke with that same raspy voice I’d heard on the walkie, but hearing it in person, this close, was…intense. I crossed my arms, shifting on my feet. “I’m good, thanks.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He dismounted and tied her to the fence so she wouldn’t wander off. Before I could stop myself, I looked him over. Scuffed boots, Wranglers that fit too well, a black button-down, that arrogant smirk, and icy blue eyes that were laser-focused on me.
Beau looked like the same boy I spent my summer afternoons swimming in the creek with, but he also looked like a man who was a complete stranger. I’d seen him around town, of course, but that was from afar. Now, he only stood about five feet from me, and there was…a lot to look at.
“You can pet me, too, if you want.”
I let out a sound of disgust. “Oh, fuck off.”
He smiled ear to ear, pleased with himself. But when was he not? He shoved his gloves into his back pocket. “What brings you to Circle M, Claire?”
“I take it you haven’t read the paper yet.”
“I’ve been a little busy runnin’ a ranch, so no, I haven’t.”
I almost said something about the ranch hand thinking Mount was in charge, but I decided to be the bigger person. I held the paper out to him. “Look at the Whispers.”
“Didn’t pin you as the type to read the Whispers. I guess your wish to be like other girls came true after all.”
“Just read it,” I snapped. “That’s if you know how to read.”
He skimmed over the article, and I couldn’t help but notice how blue his eyes were. I must’ve forgotten over the years. I glanced down at my boots, grimacing. Why did I care?
When he was finished, he looked up at me vacantly as if he couldn’t understand why I’d given it to him.
“Is it true? Did you apply?”
He let out an amused huff, tossing the paper on the hood of my truck before crossing his arms. He somehow appeared bigger standing like that. I swallowed, looking away. “Of course, I did.”
My eyes snapped back to him. I already knew it, but hearing it from his mouth made me livid.
Why couldn’t he let me have this? After what his family did to mine, it was the least he could do.
He didn’t need more land or more money; he just wanted it to say he had it, to say he beat me, that his family beat mine again.
My hands balled into fists. “You don’t even have horses here!” And there went my maturity. “You don’t know the first thing about taking care of them, let alone training or breeding them!”
“Exactly. I don’t have horses, but I want horses, and this partnership will give me horses,” he said slowly, like I was stupid. I wrenched my jaw, letting out an angered breath. “God, Claire, did you mess your brain up spinnin’ ‘round those barrels for all those years?”
Everyone knew why I had to quit barrel racing, so for him to throw it in my face was my final straw. I shoved at his chest with a grunt, making him stagger. “I hate you.”
Beau laughed, the sound thick and rich like honey.
I rounded my truck, stopping short at the door. “You couldn’t just give me this after what your family’s done to mine?”
He was still smiling, but I caught his slight falter before he buried it. “Didn’t know the Hayeses were ones for handouts. Nothin’ worth having comes easy, Claire.”
My upper lip curled with a snarl. He was one to fucking talk. He didn’t have to work for a damn thing a day in his life. He got to sit pretty on his massive ranch that was handed to him with all his little gadgets. It took everything in me not to shoot his drone out of the sky every day.
I stood on the side step of my truck, glaring at him over the door. “You know, they don’t even recognize you as the one who runs things here. I asked for the boss, and that cowboy thought I meant Mount.”
Beau’s smile fell instantly.
“Yeah. So you might wanna get your shit in order before you have Cavendish here.” He scowled, and I grinned. “Nice talking to you, Beau,” I said in a sickly sweet tone and slammed my door shut.
“At least I have people working for me, unlike you at that sorry excuse of a ranch you run!” he yelled as I sped off.
I held my arm out the window, giving him the bird.
This was real now. Beau and I were competitors. The rivalry had spread to another generation. It wasn’t the first time I wiped the floor with a McLeod—Anna always fell second to me at the rodeos—but it’d certainly be the last if I had anything to say about it.
When I got inside after unloading the feed and taking care of my chores for the day, the house was dark and silent. Mama got migraines from her chemo, and even though she stopped treatment, some of the symptoms still lingered.
Her room was quiet as I peeked in the door, and she looked like she was napping.
Only after her chest rose and fell did I let out a breath of my own.
There was no telling what I’d walk into these days.
I was in a constant state of walking a tightrope where she and the ranch were concerned, and it was just a matter of time before I wobbled and fell off.
I was about to shut the door when she cleared her throat. “Is that you, bear?” Her voice was raspy and weak and absolutely devastating. It was one of my greatest heartbreaks to have watched a woman as vibrant and strong as Charlotte Hayes wither into what she was now.
“Yeah, Mama, I’m here.” I sat in the chair by her bed. “Do you need anything?”
She flipped her hand palm-side up, her eyes still closed. “Just my baby to sit with me for a minute.”
I took her hand in mine, smiling. “I think I can do that.”
She licked her lips. “Now tell me why I saw our name in the Whispers. I was too tired to read it all.”
My chest grew tight. I should’ve talked to her about it, considering Golden Bridle was technically still her ranch. I told her about the partnership and ignored the twisting in my gut the entire time. “I should’ve asked you first. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, please. This ranch has been yours”—she took a deep, shaky breath—“for years. You don’t need to ask me to do anything.”
“It still wasn’t right. I should’ve talked to you before I applied.” I leaned forward, resting my head on our joined hands. “But I wish I hadn’t, though. I just came back from Circle M. Beau McLeod applied too.”
She hummed. “He still as handsome as I remember?”
I shot upright. “Mama!” She’d tell me I’d catch a fly with my mouth hung open like this if her eyes were open.
She cracked a smile. Small, but it was there. “A woman’s allowed to look—‘specially when she’s dying.”
“You sound like Miss Louise,” I grumbled. And then I winced as I said, “Yes, he’s still handsome.” I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that fact all day, no matter how busy I kept myself. I couldn’t get the feeling of his chest when I shoved him out of my mind.
It was disgusting. I was disgusting.
“His daddy was always handsome like that, too.”
“Yeah, yeah. The McLeod men are handsome, arrogant, rich, assholes. Same old, same old.”
Her eyes shot open then. “Claire Magnolia Hayes, don’t you curse in my house. It’s not ladylike.”
“Mama, I’ve had my whole forearm up a horse’s rear, there’s nothing ladylike about me left.” And it was the truth. I couldn’t remember the last time I did my makeup, wore a dress, went on a date, had sex.
God, I couldn’t even remember the last time I was kissed.
“Who hasn’t around these parts?”
I pursed my lips. “Fair.”
“Just promise me you won’t lose yourself in this. You know how you get that tunnel vision.” I thought back to my rodeo days when I lived and breathed barrel racing. It was all I talked about, all I thought about. I existed purely for the rush it gave me.
And then it all went away in the blink of an eye, and I was left with nothing.
“I promise.” Although I wasn’t entirely sure I could keep it. I would do whatever it took to ensure I got that partnership. I owed it to Golden Bridle, to my family.
Even if it meant losing myself in the process.