Page 13 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy (Wild Hearts Ranch #1)

A gray button-up comes next, pearl snaps instead of buttons because some habits die hard. I run my hand through wet hair that’s getting too long again, auburn strands falling past my collar. My stomach growls, reminding me I skipped dinner last night in favor of whiskey and stars.

The sun is just cresting the horizon as I head out, painting the Montana sky in shades of pink and gold. Walker is already out there somewhere, probably in the round pen with that new colt that’s been giving everyone hell. Cash will surface eventually, the lazy bastard .

We’ve been a pack for eight years now, bonded by choice. After my family couldn’t handle having a damaged Alpha in their ranks, couldn’t stomach that my scent glands got fucked in the fall along with my hearing, these two became everything. Walker and Cash.

They pulled me through those first months when I couldn’t see past the wreckage of my career. When I’d stare at the prescription bottles and wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to just… not. They gave me purpose again, showed me I could be more than Ridge Colter, fallen rodeo star.

This ranch became our salvation. Just over four years, we’ve poured everything into it, every sunrise, every blister, every sleepless night when the horses were sick or the fences were down. It’s in my bones now, this land. These mountains. This life we’ve built from nothing.

Which is why Sophia scares the shit out of me.

She could destroy it all with a signature. Sell to some developer who’d turn our home into vacation condos for rich assholes who think Montana is quaint. The thought makes my jaw clench hard enough to ache.

Last night replays through my mind—her in the moonlight, clutching that kitten, looking at me like I was someone worth knowing. She almost made me forget why I don’t need complications shaped like beautiful Omegas with curious eyes .

Christ, she’s gorgeous. I’m damaged, not dead, and my cock certainly isn’t broken. The way those leggings hugged her curves, how her eyes caught the starlight, those lips that made me think about all the filthy things I wanted them to do…

No. Focus on the job. The ranch. The life we’ve built.

Last time I let my mind wander to what I wanted instead of what I needed, I lost everything that mattered.

Besides, she’s… addictive. Beautiful in a way that gets under your skin if you let it.

But she’s just another Omega to me. A pretty face. That’s all , I remind myself.

The dining hall sits between the main house and the bunkhouses, a long building that’s the real heart of the operation.

As I walk the gravel path, something feels… off. Or maybe right. My hip isn’t aching. The usual pull in my leg is just… gone today. I must have slept better than I thought, even with that damn dream.

Then the smell finds me of bacon, eggs, biscuits, and Cookie’s famous gravy that could make a grown man weep. I follow it toward the door, trying not to read into anything.

Laughter hits me as soon as I enter, more than usual for this early hour. I stop in the doorway, taking in the scene.

The dining hall is simple with long wooden tables scarred from years of use, benches on either side, a buffet-style serving area where Cookie sets up. The old Army cook runs this kitchen like his personal kingdom, feeding fifteen-plus ranch hands, including us, three meals a day without complaint.

But this morning is different. There’s energy in the air, sparked by a certain redhead holding attention at the center table.

Sophia has half the ranch hands hanging on her every word, gesturing with a fork as she tells some story.

“…and then the system completely crashed! Three million people watching my client teaching yoga when the screen freezes mid-downward dog—right as Bob the goat strolls into frame with her sports bra dangling from his mouth like it’s lunch. ”

The men roar with laughter. Even Cookie is grinning as he flips pancakes, and that man hasn’t smiled since… ever.

“So what’d you do?” asks Dennis, one of our younger hands.

“Only thing I could do. I turned it into content!” Sophia grins. “Posted about Technical Difficulties and Goat Overlords . Got more engagement than the original video would have.”

She fits here like she was born into it.

Cash appears at my elbow, nudging me. “Look who’s making friends.”

“She’s certainly… adaptable.” I head for the serving line, trying not to notice how her laugh scrapes something raw in my chest, reckless and too damn bright.

“Adaptable,” Cash repeats, loading his plate with enough food for three men. “That your explanation? From my point of view, she’s got half the ranch wrapped around her little finger, and she hasn’t even been here forty-eight hours.”

“She owns the place,” I remind him, adding bacon to my pile. “Makes sense to play nice.”

“Uh-huh.” Cash grabs the syrup. “That’s why you were having a private conversation with her at three in the morning?”

I shoot him a look. “You were watching?”

“A new Omega shows up smelling like heaven? Of course I’m watching.” He lowers his voice further. “Saw you two in the moonlight. Very romantic.”

“It wasn’t—” I stop myself. No point in arguing with Cash when he’s in this mood. “We agreed to keep our distance, remember? Too much riding on this.”

“Right,” Cash drawls, clearly not buying it. “Because you looked real distant when you were tucking her hair behind her ear.”

“How the fuck could you see that detail from the house?”

“I’ve got skills.” He grins. “Also binoculars.”

“You’re a sick bastard.”

“And you’re so wound up I could play you like a fiddle.” He nods toward Sophia. “When was the last time you reacted to an Omega like this?”

“Never.” The answer is immediate and unwanted. I’ve been with women since the accident. But none of them made me feel like I was burning from the inside out. Except, the reality is that we can’t ever have a true bond, a scent match, not what an Omega and an Alpha should, what she deserves.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say finally. “Three months and she’s gone.”

“That what you’re telling yourself?” Cash loads his plate higher. “Because from where I’m standing?—”

“With your binoculars like some creep?”

“—she doesn’t look like someone who’s planning to leave.”

I follow his gaze. Sophia is still chatting with the ranch hands, but there’s something in how she leans in, how she listens, how she engages. Like she’s putting down roots already, even if she doesn’t know it.

“Incoming,” Cash mutters.

Walker pushes through the door, all six feet, three inches of him commanding instant attention. The chatter dims slightly. Walker has that effect. Not through meanness but through sheer presence. The man radiates an underlying strength that makes even hardened cowboys step carefully.

But today he’s in a good mood. I can tell by the set of his shoulders, the almost smile playing at his mouth. He heads straight for Sophia’s table.

“Oh, this should be good,” Cash murmurs.

Walker settles next to Sophia like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She beams up at him.

“Morning, sunshine,” Walker says in that deep rumble of his. “Sleep well on your first night at the ranch?”

“Like a baby,” she says.

“You finished eating? Want to show you something.”

I tilt my head to the side, watching how damn easily he talks to her, how she looks at him like the sun cracked through the clouds just for him.

It shouldn’t bother me. Not the way she laughs, not the way she leans in. We’re a pack and we share everything. That’s how it works.

But it does bother me.

Because it feels like hell just to look her in the eye, let alone talk like nothing is broken. And deep down, some dark, festering part of me wonders… if the others want her, and she doesn’t want me—the busted one—what the hell happens then?

Do I just sit on the sidelines? Watch them build something I’m not welcome in? Be the one left behind while they find a future without me?

“Show me something?” Sophia’s eyebrows rise. “You’ve got me intrigued.”

“There’s a spot near your guesthouse. Think you’d like it.” Walker’s voice stays casual, but I know him too well. He’s fucking interested.

“Oh, he’ll show you his special spot all right,” Tom drawls from the table, earning a few muffled chuckles.

“Just don’t follow him too deep into the woods,” another hand mutters. “Ain’t no one ever come back the same.”

Sophia lifts her coffee with a sly grin. “I figured he was just being polite.”

Cookie barks a chuckle from behind the griddle. “If that boy’s being polite, I’m a damn ballerina.”

“I’m just showing her around and being helpful,” Walker states, palms up like he’s the picture of innocence, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Helpful is what you do with a fence that’s fallin’ down. You? You’re one sweet talk away from handing her the deed to your truck and a key to the bunkhouse.”

The room cracks up, boots tapping and forks clinking on plates.

Sophia just raises an eyebrow like she’s not buying any of it. “Should I be worried?”

Walker smirks. “Only if you’re scared of good manners.”

“That’s bait,” Cookie mutters.

And Sophia laughs, big and unbothered, right in step with the rest of us. Like she’s been here all along.

“You ready?” Walker asks when the noise dies down.

“Lead the way, cowboy.” Sophia stands, clearing her plate. “But if this special place turns out to be a muddy pond or a pile of rocks, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

“Have a little faith. ”

They head out together, Sophia barely reaching Walker’s shoulder but matching him stride for stride. Everyone in the dining hall watches them go.

“You keep staring like that,” Cash observes, “and people might think you’re obsessed with our new Omega.”

“Fuck you,” I tease, stabbing at my eggs while still standing by the buffet.

“Just saying. Your eyes didn’t leave her until she walked out.”

I have to agree, damn him. I force myself to focus on my plate, but my mind is already wandering.

I risk one last glance toward the door they disappeared through. Three months and she’ll sell the ranch and go back to Chicago, where she belongs.

Except Cash is right about one thing: She doesn’t look like someone who’s planning to leave.

And that terrifies me more than any bull ever could.