Page 6 of Ash on the Range (Red Hart Ranch #6)

WILL

I managed to hold my girl and not ruin the fluffy white thing she wore for the second time in a week, but it was a near thing.

My arms ached from the different sort of work than holding onto a bull in the practice yards or praying for my life when the chute opened on the rodeo grounds come showtime.

No, my body ached for all the right reasons tonight—for the hours of work put in on land I cared about, working for people who mattered to me, and for the girl in my arms who slept alone each night who should be curled around my body come nightfall.

I knew that deep inside me, no matter how ridiculous it sounded, and I’d work my ass to the ground to make sure it happened, even if it broke me in the process. As long as it didn’t break us.

Those first few days were rocky. I could see the uncertainty rising in Cassie.

The new work, being thrown in with a stack of new people all at once.

Hell, I could understand it myself. The first season I spent at Red Hart I found the underside of every shithouse job there was.

Back then, Jude hadn’t quite found his feet as foreman, nor had Travis found his wife, Natalie, who curbed his wilder nature.

They were fun times, back when the full Beaumont family ran RHR land.

That year I learned a lot. Not least of all how strong a woman could be under duress.

My gaze drifted across to where Eve leaned back in her chair, exhaustion clear across her strained face.

I squeezed Cassie’s arm, and shifted in my seat.

A restless energy slithered through me. It had been present these first few days, typical of a new season, with new hands in place.

Sure, there were a few regular faces—trader Kyle was on board for a few weeks.

Gage had come through and never left, and a few of the older hands I recognize from previous season’s work had returned.

There were a few new faces too, and that changed the energy up, in a good way.

But what bothered me was the restless energy that rippled through the bones of Red Hart present in the house, the land itself.

It might seem a romanticized notion, but I knew if I talked to Travis about it, or Jude, or any of the older hands, they wouldn’t laugh my thoughts off.

Every one of us who’d been around the land here for more than a season, lived here for a whole, no matter how long or short, knew that Red Hart land was distinct from any other.

I gripped my beer—the only one I'd allow myself for the night—and downed the end of it, pressing a quick kiss to Cass's temple. “I’ll be right back,” I murmured, pushing back from her, our plates already in my hands.

“Gonna take ours, too?” Gage watched us from across the table, his arms wrapped around his pregnant wife, Brit.

She threw a sunny smile at me as she curled her body into his, seated between his legs. He’d built her a cabin somewhere on the eastern boundary, last I heard, and I made a note to stay right away from that section from the way he watched her, then dipped his head to kiss her hard.

Light fingers grazed the back of my hand.

I sent a tight smile Cassie’s way. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I murmured, holding her gaze and letting her see the promise in my eyes.

Somehow I'd find a way to get some time together, but it wouldn’t be tonight, or any night soon.

Not until I earned myself some grace in Jude’s book.

That meant a whole lotta solid hours, and maybe a fluke or two of luck while we were out working.

But mostly just keeping my head down and working damn hard.

Cass nodded, nibbling her lip as she watched the couple opposite us, then dragged her gaze away from their obvious show of affection.

I knew Gage had his own place, his own set of rules, but Cass and I weren’t that set up just yet and I wasn’t prepared for her to be on show for all the boys all the time.

And I knew the stories that ran around the bunkhouse about Brit and Gage, and I didn’t want those sorts of tales told about my girl. Gage seemed to thrive off it, and that was fine, but it wasn’t my style.

“Okay,” she mumbled, toying with the hem of her fluffy kitted hoodie thing.

I still hadn’t gotten it off her to show the lacy top she wore underneath, and maybe in hindsight, that was a good thing. The urge to run my hands under it and find out how she felt as I kissed her senseless left me swaying where I stood.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I forced my feet to move away from my girl, around the hands who still lingered in the big house, a few finishing up their drink for the night, some still chatting though most had headed back to the bunk house to turn in for the night.

The air was still chill outside, and despite the warmth in the big house, the mountain air stripped away any pretense that winter was nearby just yet.

“She’s worried.” Gage leaned over the edge of the kitchen bench where I stalled, the stack of plates still in my hands.

I glanced sideways at him, and placed the plates in the sink one at a time. “Who are we talking about here?” I kept my voice low, and tried not to look at Eve.

He turned his beer in his hands, running his thumb across the edge of the label, stopping shy of peeling it off. “Eve,” he murmured.

“Which is why your girl is worried,” Gage finished for me.

I stared at him, and my gut clenched down on the ample dinner I’d eaten. “What?”

Gage studied the glass bottle then placed it in front of him with precision.

“You spend a lot of time worrying about her, Will. Maybe a bit too much. Cassie’s new here.

She doesn't understand how things run. And she doesn’t know what Eve’s been through.

” He lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “Either time.”

My blood turned to ice. “You mean?—”

“I mean exactly what I say.” His tone turned sharp. “And you need to watch your girl and let Eve’s man look after her.”

“Archer’s not here,” I snapped back, running my hand through my hair. He’s never here.

I clamped my mouth shut before I said something I’d regret.

I’d been here when a whole lot more than the proverbial shit hit the fan.

And I'd been here when Archer promised to come back—and he didn’t.

The first time, and the second. I understood what, but now all I saw was that the woman we all loved and respected was hurting a whole hell of a lot.

Gage nodded. “No, he’s not. And that’s her choice to keep chasing him, or let him slide, kid.”

My mouth twitched at the nickname. “Sure. And if it was you and Brit? If you weren’t here and she needed help?

What would you want someone to do?” I was pushing it, and I knew it.

No one touched Brit. You could look but you sure as hell didn’t cross that line.

Those were Gage’s rules, and everyone knew them.

The cowboy beside me froze. He took his time answering me. “I think the man who decided that my girl needed help would want to be damn sure that I was in a hospital bed, and that the danger she was in outweighed the danger to himself.”

I snorted. “You think anyone helping your wife should be so selfish? Is that the goal?”

“It is if you want to live.” Thankfully he dropped the not-endearment this time, but the message came through loud and clear.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I ground my teeth. The point he made before rankled, though. “You’re saying I’m not taking good enough care of Cass.”

Gage considered. That was something I learned last season here, that it took a while to get the answers I needed from the older man who had a good fifteen years on his wife, but that the words that came out were far more often than not well worth the wait.

“I’m saying that you need to consider how she sees Red Hart life, and what she doesn’t know about its history. Maybe you want to take her on a tour.”

I watched Cass slide her arms across the table and place her head on them, her eyes closing just before she sank down in full onto the table. “You mean, like a date?” No chance was I going to get time out to do that.

Gage shrugged. “Tell Jude you need to take his new social media manager on a field trip around the property for a few days. She needs to know the best vantage points to advertise the property and the herd. You can show her around. He can’t argue with that.”

I opened my mouth to fight him on it, but he had a point. If Cass was handling the marketing like Eve had asked, then she really did need to know more about Red Hart and I probably did know a bit more about the place than I thought.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. And go give your girl some attention, yeah? She needs a little TLC over there.” Gage straightened, dwarfing me and half the house.

“Yeah. Right. Hey,” I turned my back to the table, pausing in washing up.

“How do you deal with the rumors about you a Brit that rip through the bunk house? You gotta know that half the boys are—” I shut my mouth just in time, figuring that Gage probably wasn't the man to fess that little secret up to his face.

He sent me a wry smile. “That the new kids jerk off to the image of me fucking my wife rough against the tree outside the bunkhouse while she screamed for me?” He finished his beer and tossed it into the recycle can.

“That one’s true, kid. They can jerk off all they fuckin’ want to that image, and few other stories gettin’ around.

We’re a pair of filthy fuckers.” He sauntered away, leaving me with a red face and a need for my girl in a damn fine hurry.

In the end, I finished washing up alone, and by the time I made it back to Cass, she had sagged into a soft mess opposite Brit who was headed the same way.

Gage sent me a hard stare, reminiscent of our earlier conversation as he lifted his pregnant wife easily and carried her bridal style out the door of the big house, covering her in her jacket and sliding her boots on without ever putting her down.