Page 17 of The Wounded Warrior

Chapter Ten

Luke was literally shoveling shit. He filled the wheelbarrow from the yearling barn stalls and Matt rolled it out so they could lay out fresh bedding.

Matt had already tackled the water buckets, and Luke had refilled them.

When had this become the best part of his day?

The horses, the work, the rhythm of ranch life. It eased him down to the bone. He grinned, still kinda stunned at himself. Mr. Next Mission was settling down, he guessed. That didn’t bother him as much as he’d worried it would.

Maybe it was time to start thinking of himself as something other than an ex-SEAL.

Maybe he could be… Luke the Sometime Cowboy.

He hooted. Yeah. Luke the Not So Awful? That would work.

“What’s funny, Lulu?”

“Lulu. Hilarious guy.” He flipped off Matt. “I was just thinking how I didn’t suck.”

“Oh, that’s good. If I throw the feed sacks over the truck, can you catch them?”

“You know it.” He was a pretty good catch. That thought made him chuckle again.

“Rock on. Let’s go. I want to get it unloaded before it starts raining.”

Yeah, his chair was not mud-friendly. Hell, not terribly water friendly. He rolled out into the yard, frowning when a big pickup came roaring down the lane.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Matt rolled his eyes. “Maybe they’re looking for someone else, huh? I’m busy.”

“Maybe.” That wasn’t Rory McConnell’s truck this time, and Luke was kinda surprised at how disappointed he was. Only because he wanted to see for himself that the guy was okay, mind.

It was a huge monstrosity of a truck that rumbled to a stop, and this giant beefy old dude squeezed himself out of the passenger side. Damn.

Matt went stiff and angry in a heartbeat. “What the hell do you want, Harris?”

“Must be nice to be courted by every landshark in Titus county,” he muttered under his breath.

“I came to make you an offer you can’t refuse, son.”

Oh, Matt wasn’t gonna love that…

“I can refuse you all I want.” Matt’s chin jutted out. “My note is paid up.”

“Look. I want this land. You obviously need help running the outfit. I’ll offer you twenty thousand over what it’s worth.”

“Not good enough.” Matt didn’t even hesitate, which worked, because Luke had just learned to be at home here. “I already have another investor, so back the fuck off.”

“Look, son…”

“He’s not your son, man,” Luke snapped. He hated his shit. “You made your offer. He turned you down flat. Period. Get the hell off this land.”

Matt glanced at him, eyebrows raised, but Luke meant it.

Harris snorted. “You and whose army will make me, boy?”

“Pardon me?” He rolled up, the rage and fury that lived under his skin bubbling right up to the forefront. He didn’t need some doughy fuck threatening him on his own turf. He’d faced down the scariest motherfuckers there were. This prick didn’t even register.

Matt backed away slowly, giving him room. Just like old times. Matt was a lover, really. Luke had always been the fighter.

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