Page 5 of Stirring Spurs (Rainbow Ranch #1)

WYLIE

“Don’t mean to intrude…”

The cookie and his sister are in some sort of skirmish, but their laughter tells me they’re simply goofing around. Boone’s trying to avoid what seems like Billie’s attempt at a headlock, and his biceps flex under the tan flannel rolled up past his elbows.

“No, no, I was just leaving,” Billie says, untangling herself from her brother.

“Beau said to grab lunch from you before we head out,” I say, pulling my lips in.

Billie dips her chin and mutters, “Gentlemen,” before sneaking outside.

Five seconds after she leaves, I hear her and Winnie giggling. Boone skips over and closes the back door with a loud thwap.

“Heading out?” he asks as he reaches behind me and grabs a brown bag from a shelf under the island.

“There’s some fencing that needs repair. Near the outskirts. Beau mentioned a stream nearby.”

“Oh, out by the Henderson’s farm, where their property meets ours. Yeah, that’s a good few miles out. Beautiful ride. You’ll be gone until dinner, at least.”

He motions to a tray of food on the back counter. There are sandwiches, apples, and small paper bags.

“Help yourself. Take as much as you like. Nobody goes hungry here.”

As Boone hands me the bag, his fingers brush mine, and immediately my face heats up, and my gaze drops to the floor.

At a few inches shorter than him, I don’t exactly feel dwarfed, but there’s a subtle presence about him.

He’s wearing dark brown leather shoes that slip on easily, leaving the backs of his heels exposed.

My eyes linger on his skin, aware of his gaze fixed on me.

“Much obliged,” I mutter, hoping to grab my grub and get the fuck out of Dodge.

“Are you guys taking the truck or riding?”

Boone moves toward a large pantry near the back of the room and comes out with a small cooler that looks like it’s been through a few rough adventures.

“Not sure. I mean, didn’t say. B-b-beau,” I stammer, and holy hell, I haven’t stuttered since I was a boy.

What in tarnation is happening to me?

“Take this,” he says, holding the cooler up. “I’m packing some water and tea. Unsweetened... since you don’t care for sweets.”

Boone smiles, and that tiny dimple teases on his left cheek.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him without his hat.

His hair is much shorter than his brother’s, but there’s some length on top, and a single curl, which may be a bellwether for what it might look like longer, swoops down on his forehead.

My fingers twitch, and I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Would you like me to throw in an extra sweet tea? Beau takes his sweet.”

Again, my lips part, but the words get stuck in the back of my throat.

“Here’s two. Plus unsweetened. Water. Toss your lunch in. I’m just going to make a bag for Beau. He’ll forget, and he needs to eat, too.”

Beau. Waiting in the barn. Boone’s brother. Twin brother. Who looks so much like him, yet wholly different. Boone’s got shorter hair. That curl dripping down his forehead like molasses. Those bright green eyes. The dimple.

“Beau.”

The word slips out, and Boone raises his eyebrows and grins.

I’m a complete gutter snake.

“Your brother.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Shared the womb for nine months and all.”

He pulls his lips and exposes his teeth, the dimple doubling in size as my stomach flips. I reach for the cooler, and again, Boone’s fingers graze mine, but I keep my head up this time. My brain sends the signal to my face to smile, but I can tell nothing’s happening—stone cold.

“Let me just pack a bag for Beau,” Boone says, placing two sandwiches and three apples into a rustling brown paper.

“Three apples, eh?” I ask, and now the full smile appears, happy with my question.

“For the horses. If you take the truck, save 'em for when you return.”

“Got it. Yes, sir.”

Sir? What in the devil is wrong with me ?

“Boone’s fine.” He smiles, and my nerves calm a bit. “No need to be formal.”

He places Beau’s lunch into the cooler and then puts another small brown bag inside before closing the lid as I hold it.

“A treat. For Beau. I know you don’t fancy sweets, but maybe he’ll share if you’re nice.”

We’re no more than a foot apart, and warmth creeps up from my toes and scurries up my boots to my groin. I turn to go, but Boone’s hand lands on mine, gripping the handle.

“And Wylie.” He’s taken a step closer, and I spot the flour dusting his shirt and apron. “I don’t bite.”

My eyes widen, and a boulder-sized lump appears in my throat.

He winks, and the creeping warmth transforms into a flash fire, consuming my entire body with heat. I yank the cooler away, the rough plastic scratching against my hand, and sprint toward the front door faster than I’ve moved in ages.

Driving along the ranch’s open fields in what appears to be a fairly new Dodge Ram, I can’t help but admire the polished chrome accents in the cabin as the engine purrs.

The truck handles the terrain with ease, its tires gripping the ground as the wind whips against my arm hanging out the window.

We’re so high up, yet somehow grounded and invincible.

The sun shines brightly in the sky. There are a few clouds, but they don’t put a damper on the warmth.

The hum of the pickup’s engine underscores the ride as the ranch slowly unfolds—vast, rolling fields dotted with cattle grazing lazily.

As we drive, a few outbuildings starkly contrast their surroundings.

They’re all painted bright colors of the rainbow.

The smell of the earth and fresh hay drifts through the open windows as the truck’s tires kick up dust, and I can’t help but feel a quiet connection to this vast, untamed space.

“We’ll have to work Noodles up to riding.” Beau stares out the window. “I was told he was ridden before, so he can do it. Just doesn’t seem to want to anymore.”

I nod, momentarily glancing at my palm, where the horse made contact a few hours ago.

“Sometimes all they need is the right person,” Beau says. “Maybe that’s what brought you here.”

I shrug. “Maybe. He’ll be ready soon. I can tell.”

“After just meeting him? You weren’t here when he threw me over the fence. He’s going to take a slow hand. You could have ridden a different horse today. Kayla is a beauty, and she’d let a donkey on her back.”

I shake my head.

“Nah, better to wait.”

Don’t want him thinking I’m odd, but I don’t want Noodles seeing me on another horse until we’re further along. Until we’ve built a stronger connection, no need distracting him.

“With all this gear…” He juts his head out the quarter glass. “It’s for the best. Plus, that cooler Boone packed us is stuffed to the gills.”

The mention of his brother’s name sends goosebumps trotting over my arms. I haven’t stammered like that since I was a kid.

Back then, the special teacher at school helped me work through it—or at least, I thought she did.

That damn cookie has me all flustered. My mouth goes dry thinking about him, and I have to work up enough saliva in my mouth to speak.

“He packed you two sandwiches. Three apples. A bunch of water and tea. Then a bag of some sweets, but he didn’t say what. He’s sure…”

“Handsome?” Beau finishes before I can.

“Was gonna say a ballbuster.”

“But also, handsome, right? I know we share the same face, but objectively, it’s handsome, right?”

Blood rushes to my head, and a fire blazes across my cheeks.

“Wylie, if you’re going to stay with us on the ranch for even a few weeks, I just want to make one thing clear.”

His tone is a mix of protectiveness and sincerity as I look over and see that he’s staring out the front windshield.

“I love my brother more than anything—he’s my best friend, my family, the one person who’s always been there for me.

But he’s also got a way of focusing so much on all of us, he forgets about himself.

He’s got a heart of pure gold—loving and kind to everyone.

He’d give you the shirt off his back. Which would leave him half naked.

” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Please be careful with him.”

I just arrived at the ranch this morning, and I’m already being lectured about being careful with the cookie’s heart. Was my tongue hanging out of my mouth like some kinda fool at breakfast?

Then again, I can’t argue with anything Beau’s said. This is his twin brother. They share a connection I’m unable to fully understand. And he sensed something.

“Did he say something to you? About me?”

He huffs. “Gosh, no. Didn’t have to. I know my brother. He’s only made eyes like that for one other person, which didn’t end well. ”

My heart trips in my chest, thinking about Boone with someone else.

“Anyway, I’m not trying to scare you. Just know we’re a family ranch, and Boone is a central part of that family. Treat him well, and we’ll have no issues.”

We continue driving, silence taking over the cab as a cloud of dust trails the truck.

Family. The Adams brood seems to be tighter than a litter of pigs in a barrel.

My head swims with memories of my brothers.

My parents. We never had much, but we had each other, and that was always enough.

Pop, a grizzled rancher with worn hands and a heart of steel, taught me the value of hard work before I could even walk.

Maw, a quiet woman with a gentle smile, filled our home with warmth.

My brothers, Luke and Jesse, and I were only separated by a few years.

Maw used to call us the Three Amigos, always causing mischief.

We were inseparable, working the ranch, laughing, and living a life that seemed as steady and certain as the wide Wyoming skies above us.

But everything changed that distant, bitter winter night when a snowstorm rolled in faster than anyone could have predicted.

“Over there.” Beau’s voice pierces the silence, bringing me back. He nods over to the left.

The truck rumbles on the dirt road, which seems to have been created by its tires, and a fence lies fractured ahead.

Broken, splintered wood sprawls across the ground like a half-finished puzzle.

We slow to a crawl, the engine’s hum fading as I take it in.

A few posts are still standing, but the rest have been knocked down, the remnants of something the earth once held together.

It seems recent—like trouble came calling, and the fence gave way .

Beau stops the truck, opens his door, and says, “Well, fence won’t fix itself. Let’s do this.”