Page 128 of True North

“Neither of us have a choice at this point. So, your name is going to have to be on that sign somewhere, too.”

I scoff a laugh. “Alright, if you say so.”

“I do, woman.”

The phrase takes my breath away.

I do.

Except this time, the thought of being tied to Harry Rawlins for the rest of my life feels like my greatest adventure to come. The thrill it brings is overwhelming.

He sighs, and it’s exasperated.

“What is it?”

“Roundup in a few days. We’re gonna have to make it count, or we won’t get the chance to rename the ranch, let alone hang the sign.”

I slump into his chest.

Right, the mortgage payment.

Dammit.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I damn hope so,” he says, letting his head fall back onto the lower shelf. His Adam’s apple bobs as the veins in his neck pound away. The life force of Harry Rawlins.

We can’t lose this place.

Not now.

That would break this man.

After everything he’s been through, there is no way this ship can sink. It just can’t.

ChapterThirty-Two

LOUISA

Mara—or Horse, as she’s formerly known as—is tense. She shifts on her feet as we wait, rifles strapped to our backs, hats pulled down low, and a pack horse between the two of us. Ned is late. And his buddy Mick, who apparently recently got out of service with the Navy and needed work.

“Here they come,” Harry says, spitting the grass stalk from his mouth to the ground. The gelding, who I have dubbed Darby, shies as an old, busted pickup rolls into the driveway. Harry has their mounts saddled and a pack horse bundled up for them.

Ned parks and kills the engine. His megawatt smile finds me first before he waves to Harry. “Mornin’.”

“You’re late. Sun’s rising higher by the minute, buddy.”

He waves Harry off as Mick rounds the front of the truck. His short buzzed hair and muscly body look out of place on the ranch. To their credit, they have dressed appropriately and packed light.

“Mick, this is Harry Rawlins, and his missus, Louisa.”

I stifle the laugh at him calling me the missus.

“You realize there’s bad weather comin’, right?” Mick’s stare drills into Harry’s.

“All the more reason to get these cattle off that mountain.” Harry wastes no time, walking the gelding toward the far end of the barn. I cluck my tongue and push Mara after him. Ned swings into the saddle, tying his pack behind it. Mick does the same.

“Right. We take the northern end. You two the southern. Herd them down, camp out in the hollows to keep the herd together. Every beast counts. We meet on the flat in five days’ time. Everyone on the same page?”

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