Page 29 of Ride Me Cowboy

It was stupid, in hindsight, but I’d just needed to get out. To burn energy and stop thinking about Cole. And for a brief couple of hours, it worked. But then, this is his ranch, his land, and it turns out, he’s everywhere in it—from the rugged terrain to the massive trees and scorching weather.

And now, he’s literally right where I’m looking, cutting such a classic cowboy figure that my mouth goes dry and I stop running. I forget how to run. My body and brain have simultaneous and complete meltdowns.

Because Cole Donovan on horseback, with the setting sun behind him silhouetting his hulkingly masculine frame, is more than my already overwrought pulse can handle. My jaw drops as the horse he’s riding speeds across the grass, and Cole, with his wide-brimmed hat in place, begins to steer toward me.

It's not until he’s about a dozen yards away that I see the expression on his face. Thunderclouds. His jaw is clenched tight, and his hands are balled fists around the reins. He jumps off the horse without breaking its stride, like he’s done it a thousand times, without letting go of the reins. The horse immediately slows, like he’s totally in sync with his rider.

“There you are,” he says, his voice gruffer than usual. “What the heck do you think you’re doing out here like this?”

I stare at him, trying to work out what’s going on. “What do you mean?”

“This isn’t jogging weather, Beth. You’re lucky you don’t have heat stroke.” He crosses toward me and puts his hand on my forehead then, surprising me with his touch, and sending my pulse into chaos territory. Heatstroke? Maybe. But if I do, it’s all from him.

“I’m alright,” I say, shaking away from him belatedly, taking a step backwards. “It’s hot, but I’m okay.”

“What were you thinking?”

He’s angry with me, but I’m not afraid. This is so different to Christopher, who’s rage was cold. Contained. And so much more terrifying for that. Like he was in control, at all times, and almost seemed to enjoy letting his anger come out.

Cole is speaking from a place of passion and feeling, and even from a drive to protect me. As misguided and unwanted as that is, it takes the sting out of it. Nobody could be more surprised than I am by my reaction, but it emboldens me.

“I was thinking I’m a grown woman, and I wanted to go for a run,” I say, putting a hand on my hip and staring him down.

“You don’t know jack about this place, Beth. You think this is Central Park or something?”

“I’m clearly aware it’s not,” I respond haughtily. “And you don’t need to treat me like I’m some kind of idiot.”

“You are, when it comes to this,” he mutters.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, well, tough, you’re not getting it. For as long as you’re here on my property, you’re my responsibility, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to see you mauled to death by a coyote or black bear. Or be bitten by a rattlesnake, or attacked by a cougar. Do you have any idea where you are?” he repeats, eyes boring into mine.

I open my mouth to give a retort, but it dies on my lips, because I have to admit, he has a point. I didn’t think about any of that when I set off. I’ve covered a lot of ground, run through long, dry grass, skated close to the forest, so high on the fact I was running again that Ididkind of forget where I was.

But I’ll be damned if I’m going to admit that to him. If running is one of my past habits I’ve only recently rediscovered, so’s standing up for myself.

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“You don’t think?”

“I’m an adult, and if something were to happen to me, it sure as hell wouldn’t be your fault.”

“Says you,” he grinds out, taking a step closer to me. “But that’s where you’re wrong. From there,” he jacks his thumb toward our east, “to all the boundaries of this ranch, I’m responsible for everything that happens here. Including you. So, you’d best be getting your ass back to the house now.”

My jaw drops. “Just who do you think you are, to talk to me like that?”

Dark color slashes his cheek bones. “I don’t know what Beau was thinkin’, letting you go off like that.”

I grind my teeth. “He was probably thinking it wasn’t any of his business.”

“He knows what I know. This land ain’t none too kind to strangers.”

“Yeah, well, guess what?” I gesture to my body, running my hands through the air on either side of it, up and down. “I’m fine. I didn’t get eaten by a cougar or coyote; no rattle snakes crossed my path.”

“That’s better luck than anything else.”

“Okay, sure. Point taken. But I’m not totally brainless. I stuck to the trails.”

---