Page 30 of Untruly With You

I can see him trying to be our father.

Wells scratches his beard, looking even taller with hiscowboy hat on. “Who’sa good lay?” he asks again, his fiery gaze flitting to me for a second.

Everyone is tight-lipped.

Wells walks directly to the guy who made the comment, his stare unyielding. “You’re on shit-shoveling duty today. I want the stalls mucked and washed out. Every horse is coming home tonight to fresh bedding. It better smell like a damn field of roses when we get back.” Wells grabs a nearby pitchfork and shoves the handle toward the guy’s chest—hard enough to push him back a step. “Got it?”

“Y’sir,” he mumbles back.

Wells continues staring at him, even when giving directions to the others. He tasks a few with fence repairs, half with moving cattle, and the final few with miscellaneous work near the home base.

“What are you doing?” Wells asks me, finally looking away from the shit-shoveler.

“Whatever you need me to.” I look at the faces of the crew again. “Laine, my…girlfriend…”—I wince,still weird to say—“will be around today,” I tell them. “She’s a journalist and is doing a few articles about West River and Silver Ridge Ranch. She might ask some of you questions, if that’s okay.”

Wells nods, his jaw flexing, and turns back to his crew. “I’m not going tomakeany of you do an interview, youallwill be kind. And gracious. You’ll tip your hat and say things like ‘ma’am’ and ‘excuse me’ and ‘pardon.’ And you won’t embarrass me.” The group gives an audible agreement.

It takes effort for me to keep my mouth from popping open in surprise. After all, Wells embarrassed himself plenty yesterday, by his own attitude. The last thing I expected was for him to stand up for Laine. Frankie really must have let him have it last night.

“Get to it, then,” Wells instructs his men, heading for his horse.

“Is it alright if I take Duke’s today?” I ask Wells as he passes me.

“Whatever.”

“And thank you,” I say. Wells keeps his back to me as he gets to work on his own horse, but I continue anyway. “Thank you for asking them to be nice to Laine. So far, she thinks this place is a little slice of heaven, and I’d like for that to continue.”

Wells says nothing.

“Is there anything specific you want me to help with today?” I ask.

He turns to me, his body as tight as a drawn bowstring. “I don’t care what you do, so long as you don’t get in the way. We don’t need you here.”

I lead Duke’s horse out of the barn without another word.

Everything comes back naturally. Mounting Duke’s horse. Kicking my heels against his sides. Feeling that brisk morning breeze as we trot through the fields, working our way along the emerald grass, wandering deep into the trees. The mountains progress in levels, and once I get to the lowest ridge, I pull the horse up to the edge, studying the views below.

The morning sun casts a golden glow over the panoramic landscape, illuminating the vast expanse of rolling hills and steep mountains that circle the ranch. The fields stretch out in waves, like a lush green blanket peppered with vibrant wildflowers. Here and there, cattle graze lazily, their forms mere specks against their backdrop. The river at the base of the mountain roars over rapids, winding swiftly through the small, private valley. But it's the mountains that command the most attention. Their peaks reach for the sky with dignified pride, standing like guardians over my family’s home.

I close my eyes, drinking in the smell of wet dirt and the songs of nearby birds. Everything feels so raw, so real, soquiet. It grounds me in a way that the city never can. And for the first time in years, I feel like I can take in my first true breath.

I can claim that I don’t regret my decision to move away. I can tell Laine about how my father made life here a challenge. I can truly and honestly love so much about my life in New York. But I can’t deny that I’ve also missed some aspects of life at Silver Ridge. There is no calm like that found in the mountains.

If not for the thought of missing out on time with Laine, I could stay here in this spot all day. When I start back down toward the barns, I prod Duke’s horse into a full gallop, my body bouncing in time with the beat of the horse’s run.

And there she is. Red cowboy boots and all.

Laine sits on the top of the corral, watching Bill and Wells work on breaking one of the foals. She waves her arms high in the air when she sees me, calling my attention as if my eyes weren’t immediately drawn to her. Even in the city, in crowds of people, I could spot Laine in a second.

In addition to her boots, she’s in a patterned tank top that flares out at her waist and cutoff jean shorts that show off the curves of her thighs. And yes, she has her red lipstick on, though it looks more sheer than usual.

When I dismount Duke’s horse and tie him up, I waste no time getting close to Laine. Her beaming smile is enough to almost forget about dinner last night.

“I didn’t enjoy waking alone this morning,” Laine says with a wink, loud enough for Wells and Bill to hear. She slides herself backward toward me, and I reach up, grabbing her by the waist and lowering her to the ground. Almost without thinking, I hug her from behind. “Nice touch,” she giggles in my ear. “Very convincing.”

Laine spins around to face me. My hands linger on her, now resting on her hips. She looks up questioningly. “Can Ikiss you?” she whispers under her breath, tilting her head ever so slightly back toward the corral, where Bill and Wells are watching our exchange.

My heart drops to my stomach, and my mouth goes dry, but I give her a minuscule nod. Before I have time to overthink it, Laine brings her hands to my neck, pulling me down as she tilts up. My heart is beating so fast she can probably feel it as our chests press together. I can barely see the corners of her lips twitch up before our mouths connect.

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