Page 5 of Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

G ushing water fills my cupped palms beneath the tap. Bending forward, I splash a couple of handfuls over my face, digging callused fingers into the corners of my eyes in an effort to scrub away the fogginess of sleep.

When I straighten and dry off the droplets coating my skin, I’m greeted in the mirror by the sight of my stubble and scattering of early grays popping through.

With the towel, I catch the rogue droplets that have flicked down onto my bare chest and upper arms. Rolling my neck, I blow out a heavy breath.

My mind is already five steps ahead, starting to run through the list of shit I need to get done before the day is through.

Another ranch. Another job. Another place where I can keep to myself and do what I do best.

There’s something goddamn cathartic about living this way. Rarely having to deal with people and getting to enjoy being left the fuck alone. It doesn’t matter if it’s here in Montana, or north of the border, or wherever you can find yourself a bed and a horse really.

Some might see it as a sort of fresh hell. Those are the kind of people who would think it’s a punishment to be ripped away from the noise and thrum of a city that never sleeps. I couldn’t give a crap about any of it. Being able to stay about as far away from that garbage is fine by me.

Although, now that I know what I know, I probably should’ve just stayed where I was in Canada.

Fucking Kayce Wilder.

Resting my hands on the edge of the vanity unit, I exhale a silent curse. That blue-eyed, blond-headed idiot really had to be here in Crimson Ridge, didn’t he? With all his stupid smiles and jokes about every goddamn thing when it’s plain to see that beneath that surface, he’s a mess.

The dick has always been that way. Never wanting to take responsibility, or to face up to reality. It used to grate on my nerves back then, and it won’t be any different now.

Man, it was always the most satisfying thing to see him eat shit and lose. The kid would always look about two seconds away from bursting into tears. For some reason, that used to give me a goddamn kick to have him realize there were actual consequences for not living up to his potential.

Kayce had a hard time, with a momma who popped pills?

So fucking what. Some of us ate the broken glass life tossed at us, putting up and shutting up.

He got it easy, but he was just too much of a weak little bitch to see that.

I certainly didn’t need to spend my time coddling him, or doing any more than was absolutely necessary where his ass was concerned.

His stupid, doe-eyed expression at the bonfire the other night was the last thing I was expecting and one heck of an unwelcome surprise.

Watching him stutter and stammer his way through protests about me being here—hearing just how easily he freaked the hell out about me competing again—might’ve been satisfying, but left me in no mood to carry on with the girl I’d been chatting to.

Jamie? Jenny? Fuck. Who cares, it doesn’t even matter.

She gave me her number, but I’ll come up with some reason to cut it off from turning into anything more.

Even though she seemed cute and all, if I see her again I’ll only end up thinking of Kayce, who she wouldn’t shut up about anyway.

There were too many stars in her eyes saying his name, and I’m not inclined to have anything to do with the guy.

No thanks. I’d rather gnaw my own arm off than get tied up with a girl harboring a crush on that fucking princess.

My golden boy stepbrother. Christ . I wasn’t to fucking know this was the backwater of Montana where his goddamn father’s ranch is located.

Pushing off the edge of the vanity, I swipe up my shirt.

This loft is small, a self-contained apartment really, perfect for what I need while I’m on contract here.

I’ve got these quarters all to myself, right above the barn.

Frankly, it’s a breath of fresh air after how many ranches I’ve worked on where the cabins are cramped, shared between any number of men and women living on top of one another.

The space is compact—a simple bedroom, ensuite, and a single room with a kitchen and living all squeezed in—but hell, it might as well be a palace after the last place I stayed.

Besides, the fact I don’t have a whole house to take care of makes life easier on the seemingly unending days.

When you’re bone weary after herding cattle from dawn until dusk, all you feel capable of doing is to eat a hot meal, shower, and get some shut-eye.

As I button up the worn flannel shirt, movement snags my attention through the window.

Bloody Tessa. That woman is up to her usual shit again.

I jab one hand through my damp hair before crossing to the door in a few strides.

Yanking on my cap and shoving into my boots, I head down the steps leading along the side of the barn, damn near two at a time, doing up the last buttons as I descend.

“What did I tell you?” Growling at her, my breath streams white in front of me, thanks to the crisp fall air this morning.

She straightens, cheeks flushed pink, pregnant belly sticking out more and more each day it seems now.

“Oh, hey, Raine.” She instinctively holds her lower back as she stands upright. “God. Don’t you give me that glare.”

“Well, I told you to come and ask me for help. Not to keep trying to do shit on your own.” I jog across the gravel and swipe the bag of laundry from her hands. Once again, she’s attempting to heave crap into the back of the truck on her own.

“But...” Tessa whines, before I cut her off.

“But nothing. You’re an exceedingly capable woman, yes? One who is growing a goddamn child.” I jerk my chin in the direction of her jacket hanging open at the base, the point where buttons refuse to do up any longer. “So quit doing dumb shit when I’m right here to help.”

Tessa’s blue-gray eyes soften, and she leans against the back of the vehicle, absently rubbing the front of her rounded stomach.

“I’m sorry. You’re busy and pulling extra-long hours without Beau here.

I hate feeling like I can’t do the simple stuff.

” With one hand, she waves dismissively in the direction of the laundry bags tied with a drawstring.

Bundles of used linen that have come from the cabin accommodation for guests staying here at the ranch.

I hurl the sacks of sheets and towels into the truck bed, then slam the tailgate closed.

The metal has an icy feel to it this morning beneath my fingers, and a chill seeps through the fabric of my shirt.

I didn’t even stop to put a jacket on, but I’ll certainly need extra layers before I get started with the horses and stock.

These mountains sure are beautiful, but it’s cold as fuck at this time of year.

“Well, I’m pretty sure your brother will kill me if you get injured, and your husband will dig me up from my grave to do it all over again. It’s purely selfish because I don’t need either Beau Heartford or Oscar Diaz on my ass.”

She smiles and pats my arm. “Anyone told you how cute you look when you’re being all huffy?”

“No.” I scowl.

That makes her eyes dance, an impish grin growing wider by the second. “Like a big grouchy teddy bear, aren’t you? Had coffee yet, sunshine?”

“What do you think?” My brow creases. “I’m running out here, barely half-dressed, because I saw what you were trying to sneak out and do before anyone noticed.”

“I just brewed a fresh pot.” Tessa tilts her head toward the main house. The one the guests use as a communal kitchen and living area. “It’s right there if you want some.”

My lip curls. I can’t think of anything worse at this time of the morning than being around the guests who are currently staying.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a big part of what we all work for here on this property, with visitors booking in to enjoy a taste of ranch life .

But I’m just not interested in small talk at any time of day.

Let alone when the sun has hardly gotten out of bed.

“I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” I bang my fist on the top of the tailgate and move to head away, then pause. “How are you planning on unloading all this when you get into town?” My eyes narrow.

Tessa wets her top lip with a little peek of her tongue. “Uhhh... gravity?” She mimics pushing something off a ledge with both hands.

“Jesus, Tessa.” Pulling out my phone, I fire off a quick text to Beau, letting him know that his sister needs to get in someone to start doing the heavy lifting when it comes to the accommodation side of the ranch.

“Oh. No.” She swats at my hands, trying to steal my phone. “You’re telling on me, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely, ma’am.” I lift my focus to meet her wide eyes.

A text pings back straight away, a thumbs up, and a couple of words telling me he’s on it.

“Don’t tell Oscar.” She presses her palms together, playful pleading in her voice. “Bull riders are unbearably smug when they get to say I told you so .”

I shake my head, and a tug pulls on the corner of my lips. “That’s pretty much rough stock riders all over. We love to win.”

Her husband competes at the top level in bull riding, and is currently away with the pro tour.

I know he hates being on the road while his girl is pregnant, but he just came off the back of a season ruined by injury.

We all want him to be out there doing what he does best, and that means rallying around Tessa to be there for her while he’s gone.

I’ve only been at this job a couple of weeks, but I swear to god, this woman has managed to make it feel like we’re family or some shit. I suppose you can count that as another glaring example of how my only blood relation is the worst son of a bitch you could ever have the misfortune to meet.

“What time does this shit need to be dropped into town?” I glance between my phone and the woman standing in front of me.