Page 34 of Impossible Love

As soon as we get back, I’ll review the property dossier and financials. I’ll call Millicent and ask her to help me understand how I could have been so wrong about so much. I’ll ask her to take another stab at what’s happening with the tech startup.

Because I’m starting to get a really bad feeling about this entire situation.

I’m grateful when we finally drive through the large gate that leads to the center of the ranch and its homes and outbuildings. There seems to be a lot of activity on the left-hand side of the road, beyond the barn. The air is filled with dust. I hear shouting.

The Jeep skids to a halt.

“What the hell?” Cal jumps out. I follow behind him.

In the middle of a ring, a huge dude in a three-piece suit is riding a giant bucking horse. I’ve never been to a rodeo in person, but I’ve seen them on TV, and this is crazier than anything I’ve ever witnessed. The guy is being thrashed around so hard that his brains must be scrambled.

About a dozen people are milling around outside the ring. Only one guy is inside, and he’s keeping his distance, trying to calm the horse with gestures and low murmurs. The creature’s eyes are huge with fear. The horse is so wild and unpredictable that no one can get anywhere near it.

But the big man in the suit is still holding on.

I thought rodeo riders wore leather chaps and cowboy boots, not pinstripes and wingtips.

What the hell, indeed.

“This is the way it’s done, you morons!” the man calls out to the crowd.

Just as soon as the words leave his mouth, the overdressed rider gets tossed into the air and slams against the metal fence. He lands with an ominous crack. I don’t have to be a doctor to know that this is an emergency.

I watch Cal walk slowly and purposefully toward the victim. His jaw is clenched. I think I may see smoke coming out of his ears.

Chapter 20

Cal

Really? I’m gone just half a day and this is the kind of stupid shit that goes down?

Finn has grabbed the reins and is calming the terrified horse that just threw Evander. He’s leading it to the opposite side of the ring.

“Which one of you idiots thought this was a good idea?” I ask.

Everyone—Declan, Finn, Special K, and our only female ranch hand, Summer—all point to Evander, who’s writhing on the ground in one of his custom Savile Row suits.

Dumbass.

“I’m fine!” he hisses between gritted teeth.

“Fine?” I yell, furious. “Your femur is sticking out of the leg of your British tweed trousers, you dumbass.”

“Total dumbass,” Special K adds, helpfully.

“I’m gonna puke.” Victoria spins, runs away from the training ring, and balances her hands on her knees. I watch as she tries to catch her breath.

I can’t blame her. This is a gnarly injury, even for a MacLaine.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I support Evander at his upper back, take off his suit jacket, and loosen his tie. “You’re an attorney, not a bronco buster, for fuck’s sake.”

Summer takes the nervous animal to a nearby enclosed pasture. Declan backs his Dodge Ram into the ring. He gets out, opens the tailgate, and tosses a few bags of chicken feed into the dirt to make room for Evander’s giant ass. “Load him up!”

“I said I’m fine! What the hell are you doing? I don’t need an evac!”

I lift Evander from his left side while Finn gets him from the right. Special K supports his broken leg.

“I can handle this!” Evander yells. “I’m the one who rescued all your asses on that raid in Syria! This is nothing!”

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