Page 6 of Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

She volleys her head from side to side. “Sometime before they close at the end of the day is all. It’s not urgent, but I wanted to get it outta the way before I plonk on my ass.

.. and then struggle to get back up again.

” Her fingers wiggle a circle in front of her belly.

“You know, with this extremely comfortable and not at all tiring situation I’ve got going on. ”

“Leave it to me. I’ll have time to go into Crimson Ridge later.”

“Oh, no, you really don’t?—”

“Tessa,” I grunt. “I’m helping. End of story.”

She gnaws on the inside of her cheek.

With both hands, I take her by the shoulders, spin her around, and give a gentle nudge in the direction of her office. “Now piss off, and go put your feet up. I’m freezing my nuts off out here the longer we dance about this.”

Her huffs mixed with curses drift on the morning air, and she gives me a middle finger while trudging away from the vehicle. “Thank you. Being pregnant and useless sucks. I hate it here.”

“That baby of yours will thank me,” I call back over my shoulder as I set off in search of an extra strong coffee and my jacket.

Once I’m armed with both, I get into the regular routine around this place.

Horses. Cattle. All the day-to-day rhythm of what it means to run this ranch.

My boss, Beau Heartford, is away for the fall and early winter, helping his woman out with her work as a PR and marketing manager on the pro rodeo tour.

After a glittering career and being a world champion bull rider himself, the guy now has this ranch to his name. His retirement dream come to life.

When the opportunity arose, it was a fucking easy yes to agree to come and work for a guy like him, to be based here in Crimson Ridge, even if it did mean learning the ropes at lightning speed to take on managing the property in his absence.

At least everything is set up to run like clockwork.

There’s the guest accommodation and activities side of things that Tessa handles.

On top of that, the place is a working cattle ranch with a herd that falls to me to keep watch over.

Sunset Skies Ranch has any number of strings to its bow, and beyond all that, there are also rescue horses, plus a budding equine therapy program.

One of Beau’s long-time friends, St?rmand Lane, and his girl Briar take care of all that.

He’s also the farrier employed here at Sunset Skies— a former pro bull rider himself, which makes it even easier to get on with what I’m in charge of doing on the daily.

The guy knows his shit; he’s as natural as they come with stock and horses, like it’s always been in his blood, so he helps out if I need extra hands where the cattle are concerned.

We’ve got an arrangement while Beau is away that the two of them will step in and run things whenever I need to take some days off.

Not that many involved in ranching ever fucking know what a day off looks like. It’s a life you live and breathe, which is why Beau has been the first one to order me to book some time away whenever I want and let Storm handle shit for me as necessary.

Beau:

I’ve got a couple of guys who will cover the trail rides booked in this week.

They’re familiar with the horses. Know how the place runs, so you don’t need to do anything.

Between the two of them, they’ll look after the groups.

Got it. Thanks, boss.

Beau Heartford is a damn good man to work for. He might not have been a ranch owner for long, but it’s clear he has poured everything into establishing this place. I know he’s champing at the bit to be back, but where his heart is concerned, he needed to go after his woman.

They’ll return once winter arrives, and that’s about when I’m going to be hitting the road again. I’ll find another ranch and carry on my way. Just like I’ve always done.

As I pass through the horse stalls, I hear vehicles approaching. The faint thud of music cuts out at the same time as the engine. Making my way over to the doors, I guess I gotta spend at least a few minutes to greet whoever Beau has brought in to run the trail rides.

Fuck, I’m grateful. Not that I couldn’t do it myself if necessary; it’s more that I can’t be bothered.

Having to deal with a whole lot of tourists yapping for hours and needing to make sure they don’t fall off their horse sounds like a fresh sort of hell.

I’ve got more than enough to do around here without that kind of hassle .

A rust bucket Bronco has pulled up, and as I reach the threshold to the barn, I see a younger guy jump out of the vehicle who I recognize straight away. We met briefly at the bonfire out on Rhodes Ranch and got to talking since he’s a bareback bronc rider. A buck with natural talent to burn.

“Hayes, isn’t it?” I readjust the brim of my cap.

He settles his cowboy hat over sandy hair, hanging a little long and roguish around his jaw. Green eyes give me a quick glance over as he strolls my way, closing the distance between us. He’s got that air about him I know well enough, because I was that guy during the peak of my rodeo career, too.

“That’s me.” He reaches out to shake hands. Firm, all business. “Good to see a fellow bronc rider working hard out here. Raine? If I remember correctly?”

I dip my chin.

“You’re here to run the trail ride this morning? Beau tells me you know your way around the place?”

As I say the words, another vehicle makes its way toward us down the long driveway leading into the property. There’s only a faint cloud of dust kicking up under the tires thanks to the dampness hanging in the fall air.

Hayes leans a shoulder against the wall. “Yeah, we can pretty much do this shit with our eyes closed now, after how busy the summer was. This will be a breeze.”

“Great, I’ll be out checking on some fences that need fixing up. But I’ve got time to help get the horses ready before I go, if you need an extra set of hands?”

“Appreciate it, man.” He flicks his gaze to the black truck that parks on the far side of his Bronco.

“Sup, pretty boy. You put your best lipstick on for today, or what?” Hayes calls out.

I’m turning around, ready to head inside the barn, when I hear it. The laugh and curse that floats over to us in reply is unmistakable. A voice that immediately makes me realize there’s no possible way it could be anyone else who has just arrived.

Kayce looks up as he rounds the tailgate, just as he’s shoving his phone into his back pocket, and falters. Blue eyes widen comically when he sees me standing there, and it feels like that fateful moment he appeared out of the darkness beside the bonfire all over again.

Like this kid is a bad smell I can’t shake. He keeps turning up where I don’t bloody well need him to be.

The air damn near crackles as he looks back at me, exactly like the same little kid who always wanted to run. I see it flicker in his eyes. That urge to bolt.

“No fucking way,” he mutters.

I couldn’t agree more.

Hayes’ head is on a swivel, looking between the two of us, first gesturing to point a forefinger at Kayce, then at me.

“Have you guys met before, or what?”