Page 5 of The Wrong Ride Home (Wildflower Canyon #1)

He was trying to provoke Duke. Sure, we were friends—good ones. We hugged, we arm-wrestled, we rode together (each on our own horse). But we weren’t the kind of friends who held each other’s faces and looked soulfully at one another.

He clearly didn’t care that Duke was about to blow like a bull seeing red.

He didn’t like Duke’s attitude, and this was his way of putting him in his place—by using me.

He did whatever he wanted, never mind how I or anyone else felt.

That came with being a spoiled rancher, born with a silver spoon that Maverick had turned into a gold one—snapping up ranches and farms big and small across Wildflower Canyon until theirs was one of the largest in the region.

“She’s sure,” Duke snapped, his demeanor as sharp as a spooked horse.

Maverick gave him a slow, deliberate once-over. “She told me you kicked her out. Wanted her gone. What changed?”

Duke tucked his hands in his suit pockets and gave me an insulting and appraising look. “Hunt informed me that she has her uses.”

I gasped. Hunt groaned again and mumbled, “What the fuck, are we in high school? ”

Maverick turned fully to face Duke. “You want to be careful how you talk about my friends, Duke.”

“She’s my employee,” Duke informed him. “But I can see you bristling, Mav; she a close friend of yours?”

Maverick was about to step toward Duke, steel flashing in his eyes, when Duke made it worse. He turned to me, his voice quiet—but not soft. When it came to me, soft was something he’d lost a long time ago.

“Hopping from one man to another, Elena? You really are your mother’s daughter, huh?”

Silence.

Even the wind seemed to die.

Hunt muttered a curse under his breath.

Maverick moved so fast I barely had time to react. His knuckles were white, his whole body coiled like a man ready to swing.

Without a word, I placed my hand against Maverick’s chest, stopping him cold. He was breathing hard, his body tight with anger, but I didn’t flinch. I was as steady as they came, just like I was with an agitated filly.

“Maverick.”

He stared at Duke with venom in his eyes.

“Maverick,” I repeated. Still calm. Still firm.

A long second passed. Then Maverick stepped back. Not because he wanted to but because I asked. He knew the lines he couldn’t cross with me. Punching Duke would be one of them.

Duke released a breath. “That’s what I thought.” He sounded sharp and satisfied.

I turned my gaze to him, slow and measured, and for the first time, Duke looked uncertain. I knew why. The woman he’d known—the one who had burned for him, begged him, cried for him—was gone.

These days, I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t fight. But I also didn’t let anyone get away with disrespect—anyone, it seemed, except Duke Wilder.

I was going to say something, but I needed a minute to find the right words—something sharp enough to cut but not so reckless that it gave Duke exactly what he wanted.

Because as satisfying as it would be to tell him to mind his own damn business, it would be even more so not to give him the reaction he was looking for.

I was saved from allowing Duke to crush my hard-earned equanimity because his girlfriend came out. She was in tight jeans, a tight T-shirt, and heels. For the love of everyone holy. Four-inch fucking heels!

“Hi,” she said breezily. “We have company.”

She came up to Maverick and extended her hand. “Fiona Turner. I work with Duke at Ironwood Development Group.”

Maverick looked at the hand and then, after a moment, shook it. “Maverick Kincaid. I work at Kincaid Farms.”

“More like own it,” she giggled. “I know of you, Maverick. Very nice work. You know, you should give us a call. We can help you with future acquisitions.”

“Right now, I’m tryin’ to acquire a horse trainer, darlin’. Can you help me with that?” He smiled insolently.

“Ah….” Fiona looked at all of us and then at Duke. “We ll…ah…... ah... I don’t know, but I can set up some contacts and find you someone appropriate.”

“Oh, I know someone perfect,” Maverick continued.

“Enough.” Duke put a proprietary arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. I assumed it was his way of saying, ‘ Shut the fuck up .’ “We’re busy, Kincaid. Maybe we can visit another time.”

Maverick turned to me, lifted his hat, and placed it right back. “You change your mind, Wildflower, you call me… any time .”

“Thanks, Mav,” I replied softly, walking him to his vehicle.

“You seriously okay?” Maverick asked when we were out of the earshot of the others.

“I honestly don’t know.” I took a deep breath. “But I’m getting to a better place. Thanks for coming, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It’s never an inconvenience. Okay?” He kissed my cheek. “I know Hunt is your person but so am I. Even if you don’t let me fuck you.” He winked then.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll see you around.”

I stepped away from him, and he climbed back into his truck, tires kicking up dust as he drove off.

I watched the taillights disappear down the road, not because I gave a damn about him leaving, but because it gave me a few more seconds before I had to turn around and face Duke and his girlfriend—before I had to pretend his words hadn’t cut deep.

When I was younger, I would’ve fought back, would’ve thrown fists or curses, would’ve screamed that no one had the right to call my mama that name.

Mistress. Whore. But time had tempered my fire.

I didn’t waste my breath on people who thought they knew me.

Let them talk. Their words said more about them than they ever did about me.

Because I knew who I was. The good and the bad. The things I was proud of and the things that still haunted me.

And that kind of knowing? It made me untouchable.

“What was that?” Fiona cheerfully quipped as if she couldn’t feel the tension in the air. She definitely couldn’t read a ranch, bless her heart.

“Maverick was here to see my horse trainer.” Duke kissed Fiona on her temple, but he was looking at me. “But we’re not ready to let them go.”

Fiona obviously didn’t know I was the horse trainer, and she nodded eagerly. “Right.”

“They have their uses right now. But once I’m done with them, they can go work for Maverick Kincaid or fuck him for all I care.”

Fiona’s eyes went wide, and she looked at Hunt and me as if asking for an explanation.

Ask your boyfriend, doll. This is his circus .

Once Duke and his woman were inside the ranch house, Hunt chuckled. “Well, that was one hell of a mornin’, don’t you think, Wildflower ?”

“Oh, don’t you start, Hunt.”

“Does he know?” Hunt asked somberly.

I knew what he was asking. Did Maverick know about my history with Duke? Did he know about the baby? Did he know about me ?

“Some,” I admitted.

"You ever wanna talk, Elena? You know where I’m at."

"Thanks, Hunt. I need to check the yearlings before they get into trouble."

Yearlings were like teenage boys—bold, restless, and too damn curious for their own good. If I didn’t keep an eye on them, they’d be testing the fence line, pestering the older geldings, or getting tangled up in something they shouldn’t.

I remembered Duke as a teenage boy—reckless, stubborn, mine in ways neither of us had understood back then. But the man standing on Wilder Ranch now? He wasn’t mine. He belonged to someone else.

I knew why my heart ached; I knew why it felt like something inside me had split open, raw and bleeding. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less. It only made it worse.

The man I loved was here. And he hated me .