Page 43 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

A week after Beau leaves, Cassidy comes back to the ranch. Cole and I have managed to keep whatever it is we’re doing off everyone’s radar, though I can’t believe we haven’t been found out. Other than Mackenzie, no one knows we’re basically living together above the stables.

And that is what we’re doing.

I go down there after the ranch hands have packed up for the day, taking a book to read or my phone to work on the social media accounts, waiting for Cole to swagger in. If anyone notices we both happen to be absent at the same time a lot, they don’t ask us about it.

When Cassidy arrives, I notice right away that she’s different.

Oh, she’s like her brothers, in some ways.

She’s tall, has their swagger and confidence, but she’s got long, dark blonde hair, where theirs is all dark.

She definitely seems like she belongs here, with her slight twang and how comfortable she is around livestock, horses, dust and the guys who work this place.

But she also picks the brand of my heels from the red soles alone, as well as the designer brand of my suit.

She even asks me what someone with a ten-thousand-dollar handbag is doing out on Coyote Creek Ranch. But the way she asks it is just laced with curiosity, rather than accusation.

I tell her I have a friend who likes to give me things—it’s a white lie, but having made it this far, I’m determined to fiercely protect the reality of my life back in New York for the rest of the time I’m here.

Which is now only a month. Four weeks.

Twenty-eight nights.

It sounds like a long time, when you say it like that, but knowing how fast the past two months have gone, the last month in particular, I feel that date zipping toward me so much faster than I want.

Which is all the more reason to be glad I’m almost done here.

The social media campaign is picking up momentum. It’s been a slow graft, but we now have tens of thousands of followers, including some really great brands. I feel like sponsorship opportunities aren’t far off.

I’ve thought about offering to stay on as a social media manager for the ranch.

I can do that from New York. While Mack’s doing great work filming and editing quick videos together, I can’t help but feel like it’s my baby.

Like what I really want is to stay around until it becomes a bona fide success.

To see the fruits of my labor—to know Cole is finally able to build the ranch back up.

A week after Cassidy arrives, Mackenzie agrees to be in a video.

We’re out by Beau’s barbecue—it doesn’t feel the same without him, but no one acknowledges that outwardly, even when I know we’re all feeling it.

Especially Ash Callahan, who’s come over with her brother for the night—first time in weeks.

Mack’s too young to drink but she’s had a beer and has grabbed her guitar after dinner.

I can tell she’s nervous, but also excited.

“I wanted to play y’all something I’ve been working on,” she says, after the boys have gone inside to clean up. “To see what you think.”

I ignore the strange hum of jealousy in the middle of my chest, when I realize she’s obviously told Cassidy about her music, too. Why shouldn’t she? They’ve known each other a lot longer than I’ve known Mack.

Mack strums the guitar, and as the flames of the fire turn to ember, and the fairy lights overhead twinkle like little stars, she begins to sing, and the whole world seems to stop spinning, slowing down and then grinding to a halt.

Mackenzie’s voice is incredible. Gentle and understated, but also loaded with passion.

And if this is the only time we have,

And time is never one to wait, at least, it never has,

Then all we can do, baby, is take it by the reins,

Enjoy the ride, make the most, not fight it in vain.

Nothing lasts forever, we’re just not built that way,

But certain things happen just to make you say:

Now because of you, I know who I‘m meantta be,

Time’s not on our side, but I’ve known you baby,

And you’ve made me who I’m meant to become,

I’ll love you forever, I’ll love you then some.

She fades out on that last line, then sings it over and over, and I listen, in absolute awe of how someone so young can write such a beautifully moving song.

Afterwards, she places her guitar down against a hay bale, then looks from me to Cassidy.

Cassidy is staring at her with the same sense of wonderment I feel.

“Holy shit, Mack. When did you write that?”

She shrugs her slender shoulders. “Few weeks back.”

“How?” Cassidy stutters. “Why?”

Mack laughs, but it’s a little uneasy. “You don’t like it?”

Cassidy looks to me, her eyes appealing for help.

“We loved it,” I say, confident I can speak for both of us. “You are an actual genius.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s just music.”

“No, it’s poetry,” I demur, kneeling at her feet and clasping her hands, staring into her eyes. I feel Cassidy’s gaze on my face, but can’t look away from Mack. “It’s beautiful and emotional and so…ethereal, when you sing it. Have you ever played any of this for Nash?”

Her cheeks flush and she quickly shakes her head.

“Why not?”

“I dunno,” she responds, but I can tell she’s lying. “I just wouldn’t want him to feel pressured, you know? It’s what he does for a job and these guys have all been real good to me, treating me like family an’ all, but I’ve gotta draw a line somewhere. I’m not gonna take advantage of him.”

Cassidy shakes her head. “That’s ridiculous. And we don’t treat you like family, you are family,” she says, putting an arm around Mackenzie’s shoulders and hugging her to her side.

There it is again. A twist of jealousy. But of Mack’s relationship with Cassidy, or the fact that I would love to be folded into this family, for real? I shift a little at the thought, aware that my heart is coming close to betraying me. This is temporary, and I’ve always known that.

“Now, I’ve got an idea,” Cassidy says, looking at me beseechingly again. Play along, her eyes say. “You should let Beth here put you up on that insta channel.”

I nod, just like I would have with or without Cassidy’s prompting. “You know I want to.”

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it,” Mackenzie says, cautiously.

“Let’s do it,” Cassidy claps her hand together, and before we can say anything, she’s like a cyclone in action, on her feet, moving things around, dragging hay bales so they’re lined up just to the side of the fire, looking for props.

“Okay, let’s make a music video,” she grins, with a devilish grin.

“I don’t know, you guys,” Mackenzie says, clearly losing her confidence.

“Well, what if we film the song, and you can decide if you want to post it.”

It’s a pretty low risk way to go about it and she nods slowly. “Okay, if you promise I get the final say.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” I murmur, realizing how not true that is.

In my marriage, there were many, many nights when I hoped I just wouldn’t wake up.

I was so miserable, terrified, and had no way of escaping.

But being out here, with the Donovan family and Mack, Caleb, slowly, everything’s shifted, so I find myself falling asleep dreaming of the next day, excited to wake up and do it all over again.

“Okay,” Cassidy claps her hands together, her easy authority reminding me of her brother. “Beth, introduce her.”

“What?”

“Hey, that’s fair,” Mackenzie grins. “I’m going way outta my comfort zone, why don’t you have to?”

“I’m always behind the camera.”

“Come on,” Mack insists. “Same rules apply. If you’re not happy with it, we won’t post the thing.”

I guess I can always crop the video later; it’s on my phone, after all.

“Okay.” I turn the camera around to film it like a selfie and introduce Mack as country music’s next big thang, really letting my voice drawl over the syllable, and catch Cassidy grinning, just like Beau would have, as I turn the camera on Mack.

She’s sitting where Cassidy directed her to, and as I record, she starts singing again, this time with me filming.

I pan from the fire to her face, then zoom out to capture the setting, the lights, the stars, then back to Mack for the chorus, pinching in on her earnest, beautiful expression as she finishes off the song.

For the last bit, I shift the focus back to the fire and slowly zoom in on the flickering flames.

“How was it?” she asks, placing the guitar down once more.

“Perfection,” I say.

“Can I see?” She sounds shy.

I hand her my phone without hesitation, and Cassidy goes over to watch with Mack, so my gaze shifts to the house, and I find myself wondering about Cole, inside, and how long he’ll be in there shooting the breeze with his brothers and Caleb.

When he’ll head to his truck and text me, so we can go down to the stables.

“Let’s post it,” Mack says, with a nod, after Cassidy’s rapturous applause.

“Are you sure?”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” she asks. “We can always delete it, right?”

“Do you want to sleep on it?” I check. “We can post tomorrow.”

“Post the damn thing,” Cassidy says with a stomp of her foot. “It’s time for you to fly, girl.” She squeezes Mack’s shoulder.

Mackenzie laughs. “I don’t know about that, but sure. Go ahead. Post it.”

I’m so delighted she agrees that I don’t even think about my cringey introduction until it’s much too late. By then, the video’s been uploaded and when I check it, much later that night, in our bed in the stables, the number of views, comments and likes blows my actual mind.

“Oh my God.” I sit up, and beside me, Cole glances across quickly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say, hating that I’ve worried him. “Absolutely nothing. Would you look at this?”

I shove my phone in his face, and he frowns as he watches, then taps the volume up several times, frown deepening. “Is that Mackenzie?”

“Yeah. She sings. And writes songs. And she’s actually brilliant, right?”

He stares at the screen until the song finishes then shoots me a look of confusion. “She really is.” He shakes his head. “What the hell’s she doing out here wrangling horses when she’s got that kind of talent?”

“I think she likes the whole wrangling horse thing.”

He hands the phone back to me.

“That’s a whole heap of likes. I wonder if she’s seen it yet?” I check the time on my phone. It’s too late to text her and check. I put my phone down and snuggle into Cole, my head resting on his chest, one leg thrown over his.

“Jesus Christ, Nash’s gonna flip when he sees that thing.” His chuckle is the last thing I hear before I fall asleep.