Page 22 of Knotting the Cowboys

"Perfect for beginners," Cole finishes smoothly. "If you want to learn to ride."

River's hands move over the horse with practiced ease, checking her over while murmuring soft words. There's something hypnotic about watching him work, the way the animals respond to him like he speaks their language. When Honey lips at his shirt pocket, he produces a piece of carrot with a quiet laugh that sends another jolt of almost-recognition through me.

"The security system is integrated," Mavi says abruptly, like he's uncomfortable with the soft moment. "Cameras at all entry points, motion sensors on the perimeter. Your grandfather was concerned about rustlers."

"Mavi's former law enforcement," Austin explains when I look confused. "He insisted on upgrading everything when he moved in—I mean, when he started working here."

That slip doesn't go unnoticed, but I file it away with all the other strange things about this situation.

Four men this attractive don't just end up working on a remote ranch together.

There's a story here, one they're carefully not telling.

We continue the tour—the equipment shed where everything gleams with maintenance, the chicken coop with its dozen laying hens, the garden plot already turned for winter. Every corner of this ranch speaks of care, of love even. These men haven't just maintained my grandfather's property; they've improved it, cherished it.

"The house next," Austin says as Luna starts to fuss, rubbing her eyes. "She knows it's nap time."

But the moment Austin tries to adjust her position, Luna protests loudly, reaching for me again with determined hands.

Without thinking, I step closer, and she practically flings herself into my arms.

The moment she settles against my chest, everything shifts. Her weight feels familiar, right in a way that makes no sense. She smells like baby powder and something sweet, and underneath that?—

Pine. Earth. Smoke. Clean linen.

She smells like all of them.

"She doesn't usually go to strangers," River observes quietly.

"Maybe I'm not a stranger," I murmur, studying her unusual eyes. One blue, one green-gray. Where have I seen eyes like that before?

Luna pats my cheek with one chubby hand, babbling seriously like she's trying to tell me something important. Behind her, I catch the men doing that thing again—perfect synchronization as Austin pulls out a pacifier, River checks his watch, Cole heads for the house, and Mavi scans the area like threats might materialize from thin air.

"How long have you four been together?" The question slips out before I can stop it.

"What makes you think we're together?" Cole asks, but there's no real denial in it.

"You move like a unit. Like..." Like a pack, my mind supplies, but that's absurd.

Packs don't form around babies and ranches.

Except apparently they do, because that's exactly what I'm looking at.

"It's complicated," Austin says, reaching for Luna as she starts to genuinely wind down. "We're family. Found family, but still family."

Luna goes reluctantly, whimpering until Austin picks her from my grasp and starts a gentle bounce that speaks of long practice. All four men adjust subtly—River moving closer to Austin, Cole taking point again, Mavi falling back to guard position.

It's beautiful and strange and makes something ache in my chest.

A representation of what I thought I’d have with Blake and the Iron ridge pack…but that…

I don’t dare finish the thought because its in the past.

"The house," Cole says, heading for the wraparound porch. "Austin oversaw most of the renovations. Kept the character but updated everything for safety and comfort."

Safety. There's that word again, following me like a shadow I can't shake.

But safe from what? And why do these men move like they're protecting something precious?

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