Page 3 of Saving the Rain

“You can’t be serious.”No. There’s no way this is real.

Another lift of his broad shoulder. “Dunno what you expect me to say. I’m working on one of the local ranches. So, run on back to your buddies.”

I take a step toward him, bristling.

“You’re not coming out here and entering events... you’re...you’re too old.” A protest splutters out of me. My stomach forms a churning mess, thrashing around to the point of seasickness.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” He chuckles. “And you know I would still win, too.”

Fuck him. Fuck every single goddamn twist of fate that has brought him back into my life.

“This is bullshit. You could literally go anywhere else. Go base yourself on any other ranch.” My throat struggles to work down a swallow.

“I could, but this little neck of the woods seems kind of sweet.” His gaze slides down to Jessie, while giving her a wink. “I’ll bet I can have Crimson Ridge eating out of the palm of my hand. All it’ll take is a couple of wins, and that’ll be enough.”

“Fuck you. Cut the crap.”

“Besides, you’re almost aged out yourself. Twenty-nine, aren’t you?”

My throat works. “I’m twenty-eight. You know that, dick.”

“Mmm. So basically washed up.” One of his tattooed hands rakes through his mess of dark curls.

“Screw you.”

“Gonnamelt if you stay too close to that fire, snowflake. I’d be careful where you stand.” His eyes flicker over me once again, leaving my mouth filled with chalk. “And no, I’m not here to fool around with rodeo. I’m here for a job, but we both know I could still school your ass anytime I like, without even trying.”

He leans down to say something in Jessie’s ear, then guides her away by the elbow. She offers me an apologetic shrug, before the two of them head off in the direction of the grill, leaving me standing, staring out into the darkness of a fall evening. The kind of night that should be brimming with laughter and celebrating hitting the highs of placing in a competition event.

Instead, I’m numb from head to toe, trying to wrap my brain around what just happened. The gut punch of my past coming back to haunt me in the most unexpected of ways.

The last person I expected to see again.

My goddamn stepbrother.

Chapter 2

Iscrub a hand over my mouth while mid-yawn. A gallon of coffee and extra heaping of sugar have yet to fully kick in. Through bleary eyes, I scroll the messages in my Instagram inbox. Beyond the windows, it’s the kind of morning where mist shrouds the ranch in a thick, morose cloak. Everything is painted in shades of bruised gray, and my mood suits the color palette up here.

Even Devil’s Peak, which normally stands guard watching over the ranch, has decided today ain’t worth her while to put in an appearance.

Chaos

You slunk off like a little bitch last night, Wilder.

Irish goodbyes aren’t usually your style.

I’ll see your ugly ass at Beau’s tomorrow, yeah?

Gotta get my beauty sleep if I’m gonna beat you next stop on the tour.

But yeah, I’ll be there. Should be down early-ish. I’ll sort the horses and the cattle out first thing.

Leaving my phone on the kitchen counter to charge, I head out to make a start on the day. Literally no point carryingthe damn thing around up here, since our only means of communication is via radio. Modern technology? Yeah, that’s pretty much a running joke on this mountain. Good luck getting the internet to work anywhere beyond about three hotspots inside the house.

There’s no pause for idle scrolling or wasting time on social media around here. Mornings start early as shit, and the animals don’t appreciate their routine being fucked with. If there’s one thing that a ranch demands, it’s every ounce of your attention. Mother Nature never lets up, and the worst mistake you can make in a place like this is to assume you’ve got plenty of time in the day.

Fall basically translates to getting all your crap prepared for winter. That bitch is ruthless around these parts.