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“Butch, we are not having this discussion,” Weston grumbled in response.

“Why? Because I’m not an adult? I’m getting close, am I not? I’ll be eighteen in a month!”

My brother sighed beside me and dipped his chin toward his arms propped up against the rail.

“Besides, don’t you think you should be here just in case Tenley has the baby? I’m pretty sure you’d regret coming down off the mountain just to find out she had to give birth without you,” the second boy added, and Weston glanced at me, rolling his eyes.

“When did you get so smart?” he called back.

Keaton laughed as the two brothers stopped beside us, geared up, packed up, and ready to go on the drive.

“I’m twelve now, which means I’m old enough to actually go on this drive solo. I’m not tag teaming with anyone else this time. I can take your spot!” our red-headed nephew said, grinning widely.

His older brother rolled his eyes. “Keaton, I’m pretty sure you don’t get his exact spot, even though you are coming on this drive with actual responsibilities.”

I chuckled again, then pushed myself away from the rail. “Weston, both of them are right. Now, go. You can finish my porch or something while we are gone, since I can’t seem to get it done with our new guest. Oh, and if you’ll keep an eye on the horse, that would be appreciated.”

Weston scowled, his gaze narrowing. “Just know that when you get back, I will return the favor you’ve shown me here and now.”

“Git,” I scolded as if he was a dog that wasn’t listening to commands.

Keaton and Butch chuckled, both horses they were on shuffling beneath the weight shift. “And you two, go get with the other hands, or you won’t be coming,” I directed to my nephews. Both of them tipped their hats and rode off in a cloud of dust. Strange how much both of them had grown over the past couple of years. Butch wasn’t the lanky, awkward teenager who stumbled over his own two, massive feet anymore.

Nah, he was still tall but had filled out recently, and I’m pretty sure he was starting to get some light-brown facial hair that matched that danged mullet he was sporting these days.

Keaton, in his curly, red-headed glory, didn’t have his baby face anymore. That innocent kid that helped me scheme against Weston was turning into a rather mature preteen, and it still shocked me that he was up to my shoulder. They definitely got the good genes from my sister and Cash.

Taking in one last deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air that held no responsibilities, I nodded once and stuffed my hands in my pockets. Time to go get my horse, chaps, and get everyone organized for the drive.

Chapter 5

BRIAR

The buckskin I was on pranced beneath my feet. The cattle were shifting anxiously awaiting the announcement that it was time to move. Cassidy loped on by, still not speaking a word to me as he gave instructions to someone who looked like a younger version of the man I learned was named Cash. The red hair this boy sported was a dead ringer for the older and not half-bad looking man that was near the front of the herd.

But Cassidy…Ugh. My eyes tracked the man whose face was no longer clean-shaven as it had been the day we met. Dark stubble coated a jawline that was sharper than a knife, seemingly chiseled out of stone. And those dimples when he smiled, laughing at whatever the boy said, were perfection. Why was I being mean toward him, and where were these uncontrollable conflicting thoughts and actions about him coming from? That made no sense, even to me.

Even after days of watching his routine of such an annoyingly perfect life, I knew I shouldn’t feel this frustrated with him, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was a smidge of jealousy that everything about his world seemed to flow neatly as it should. His role on the ranch, the chores necessary, the cattle—even the scenery that existed where he lived—was as beautiful as he was.

My heart thumped loudly.

I hated how perfect Cassidy had to be. Every step of his gray horse rippled with the power that exuded him as he rode directly up to me. With those chaps clinging tightly to his powerful legs, and the way his hips swayed in the saddle, as if he was stitched to the leather.

Wait.

He was riding toward me. Why now?

I swallowed stiffly, coughing on some of the phlegm that didn’t quite slide as easily down my throat as it should’ve.

He raised a single dark brow, the amber flecks around his pupils as bright as the rays of the sun. The deep greens that ran in swirls with brown rivers in his eyes narrowed when he approached me, and that smile fell from his perfect face.

“You’re riding drag.” He looked around, connecting with a tanned cowboy who was sitting on his black horse at the back of the herd. “Tom, you can swap with her,” he called out.

“What? Why?!” I gasped, and Cassidy’s gaze snapped back to mine. There was frustration deepening the precise lines on his masculine face.

“You’re newer than he is.”

That was it. He didn’t say anything else as his large fingers smoothed out the wild rag tied around his neck. And he didn’t give me a chance to say anything as he trotted away, dust kicking up behind the hooves of his horse.