Saddle Up: Ryker Ranch, #1

1

Clint

You’re a good man, Clint Ryker. Maybe too good. I’m sorry it had to end this way, but can it really end if it was never real to begin with?

I stared across the sprawling land my family had worked since before I was born, then I crumpled the note in my hand before tossing the paper into the fire.

Jess was nothing more than an opportunistic liar. She’d stolen my heart, won over my family, and then run off with everything we’d work so hard for. Every goddamned penny. A good man. I laughed and tossed back the last of my beer. If I was a good man, I’d have taken more notice, seen what she was up to before she cleaned us out.

Hoofbeats in the distance caught my ear, and I saw the figure of my brother Buck astride his horse Teddy as they approached. Buck stopped a few feet from where my own horse was tied and enjoying some feed. Knew I’d find you here. Wallowing?

Buck jumped down and tied Teddy’s reins to the post outside the secluded cabin.

It was Dad’s favorite thinking spot. Seemed fitting. I cracked another beer and tossed one to my brother.

We’ll figure a way out of this, I promise, Buck said, popping the cap off his bottle using his belt buckle.

Don’t see how. Costs are up. Income is down, and Mama’s medical bills aren’t getting any lower.

He sat on one of the stumps surrounding the fire and stared up at the wide Montana sky. We let go of the staff, run the ranch ourselves until we figure out how to get back what she took.

I let out a bitter laugh. We’re never gonna see a dime of what Jess took.

He sighed and dragged a hand across the back of his neck. We started with nothin’. We can build back up from the ground if we have to.

Buck pulled a pack of Marlboros from his jacket pocket and lit a cigarette. Taking a long drag, the cherry glowed bright in the dying light of day. It made me want to start smoking again, but I watched lung cancer slowly kill our father. I wasn’t willing to risk it.

Mama catches you smokin’ she’ll remind you you’re never too old for her to take a switch to your hide.

He laughed and held the thing between his thumb and forefinger, taking another long drag. Then he flicked it into the fire. If there was ever a day that deserved a fucking smoke, it’s today.

I had to grant him that. You’re right.

So, tonight we drown our sorrows. Tomorrow, we fix this mess.

I held up my beer, waiting for him to do the same. Then the two of us drank until the fire burned to nothing more than embers.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, we’d figure out where to go from here. Tonight we were brothers enjoying the beauty of our family’s hard work, blood, sweat, and tears.

Two Months Later

I stared down at the ledger. More red than black filled the pages.

Goddammit! I shouted, shoving everything off my desk with a satisfying crash.

You about done with your tantrum? My mama stood in the doorway of what used to be my dad’s office. It was mine now, but honestly, I felt like I didn’t belong here any more than I had when I was a kid.

I don’t think we’re gonna make it past Christmas this year. I dragged my hand over my face and sighed.

Well, not with that kind of attitude. We just have to think outside the box. Mama’s piercing blues locked onto mine I didn’t raise you to be a quitter, Clinton James Ryker.

I stood at the sound of my full name. That meant trouble. Walking around the desk until I was in front of her, I crossed my arms over my chest. I’m not. But we’re in real trouble. Something’s gotta change.

She grabbed my hand and squeezed. It will. I have faith.

You’re always the optimist. I couldn’t help my chuckle. Even when we’re staring down the barrel.

It’s not as bad as all that. I got an ace up my sleeve.

I cocked a brow and stared into eyes that looked just like mine What are you up to?

Come on down for breakfast. I’ll tell you everything after you’ve eaten.

She turned away and headed for the hall. Mama had been doing something in secret, that was for sure. But I wasn’t certain if I’d like it or not.

The scent of bacon and coffee filled the kitchen as soon as I walked through the swinging door. I spent so many mornings here. Something about the way the butter-yellow curtains matched the top of the old Formica table left me with a sense of calm. It was safe here. Nothing could touch us in this sanctuary. But that wasn’t true. Cancer had taken my dad, and Mama’s heart trouble just kept getting worse. Now we were on the verge of losing it all. My sanctuary had been breached when a devil wearing a blue dress and leather boots had walked into our lives and turned us all upside-down. In case I wasn’t clear, the devil’s name was Jess.

I see you over there thinking something fierce, Clint. If it’s about that girl who stole from us and broke your heart, you best let her go. We gotta move forward. Leave her in our tracks. You understand? Mama poured me a fresh cup of coffee and started making herself a cup of caffeine-free tea. It’d been hard for her to give up that liquid gold, as she called it, but the doctor told her no more caffeine. You know how much it means to me that you took up your daddy’s place when he died? I wonder how much of your own happiness you gave up to help me here, though. I knew she was talking about my decision to come back to the main house, to give up the home I’d built, the privacy I’d earned. Buck and Tristan lived on the ranch, but they shared a house closer to the stables. She needed someone here. Close to her.

You mentioned something about having an ace up your sleeve? She handed me my mug and took a seat across from me.

Yes. I got an email about a week ago from DFW, you know, the television network?

I cocked a brow in surprise as I took a sip and waited for her to continue.

Well, seems they’re looking for a place to film their new reality show. I told them they could come check out our ranch. See if it fit their vision.

What? I nearly choked on my coffee.

Seemed like God was dropping a solution in our laps. I wasn’t gonna question it.

Why would they email you? You’re not…the business has never been in your name. I had to tread carefully there. Mama worked behind the scenes, getting us all trained up as we grew so we could take the reins when she and Dad retired. Now she wouldn’t get the chance to retire with him.

I…have the password to your dad’s email. The network doesn’t exactly know he passed on.

Shock hit me in the chest. You lied?

She rolled her eyes and waved a hand like it was no big deal. I omitted the truth. Doesn’t change anything. They’ll be here today to pitch their idea and check out the ranch.

You’re kidding, right?

Nope. You’d better get gussied up. You’ve got a date with some pretty important people in about an hour.

Hell, Mama.

She gave me a look that could’ve wilted a weed on the spot. Clinton, watch your language. You may talk that way outside, but under my roof, there will be none of that.

Yeah, Clinton, my youngest brother, Tristan, walked into the kitchen through the back door. His boots were covered in mud. In fact, one side of him was caked in dark dirt. He looked like he’d spent the early hours of the morning fighting with a stubborn horse and losing.

Tristan! What on God’s green earth happened to you? You’d better take those boots off before you walk on my clean floor. Mama turned her attention from me and continued her scolding. We have a mudroom for a reason, boy. Have I taught you nothing?

Sorry, Mama. Wildfire’s been giving me he—heck this morning. He’s got a lot of spirit, but I’ll break him before it’s time to show him.

He sat on the small bench near the door and tugged off his boots, setting them outside before hanging his hat on the hook over the bench.

You will. I know you can. Just don’t get yourself hurt.

He grinned, and she smiled—won over. He always won. Tristan was her favorite, but none of us would tell her that. And even at twenty-three, he was still her baby. I need a shower. Oh, there’s a fancy black car coming down the drive, by the way. Think they’re lost?

My gut clenched, and my gaze shot to Mama. You said an hour.

Guess they’re early.

Grabbing my hat and jacket, I strode to the mudroom and snagged my boots. I didn’t know what to expect, but nothing good came in sleek and shiny packages. I learned that the hard way.

2

Ever

Nobody told me how much dust there’d be. Everywhere around me, there was light brown dust. It floated in the air, landing on my black pencil skirt and shiny black Manolos. God, it would never come out. I’d be stained by this place for all eternity. Branded by cowboys.

Ms. Wilson, your coat? My assistant, Joey, held out my heavy wool coat, and I slipped my arms inside the sleeves. She’d been right. It was cold out here—a big change from the last dredges of warm weather in LA. I shivered and buttoned up to my collar before shoving my hands into my pockets.

Let’s make this quick, I muttered.

Joey nodded and grabbed the leather satchel that held a paper copy of the contract and details as well as my tablet for digital signatures. I’d sell them this show, get my signature, then be on my way back to LA before the sun set.

Yee-haw, Joey said on a sigh. I frowned, staring at the dreamy expression on her face, until I followed her gaze.

Standing in front of the sprawling house was sex dressed in tight jeans and cowboy boots. His cream-colored cowboy hat was pulled down so low, I couldn’t see his eyes. But everything else hit all the right notes. A neatly trimmed beard, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and legs that went on and on. He was tall, strong, and exactly what the network wanted.

Which one are you? I asked, striding forward with my hand extended. I’m—oh! I squealed out loud as my heel got caught in an uneven patch of ground, and I went toppling toward him.

He caught me up in his arms, the scent of leather and citrus hitting my nose. Whoa there, little lady. Those shoes aren’t made for a place like this.

I cleared my throat and shoved until he put me back on my feet. It’s a good thing I won’t be here very long, then.

Care to tell me what you’re doing on my ranch?

You’re George Ryker? I thought he was older.

"Name’s Clint. George was my dad, but he died six months back. You need the ranch owner, that’s