Page 1 of Captivated

Chapter One

June 18, 2024

Zeeb Nolan wasn’tthe kind of man who believed in signs—well, he didn’tthinkhe was—but if he were, the bloodred sunset tinging the snowcapped peaks behind him, stretching across the horizon, might’ve meant something was about to change.

Bring it on.

He’d spent twelve years following the same routines. Maybe his life was ready for a shake-up.

The camp was set up at the foot of the mountain like it always was, the river snaking through the valley. Cattle stood on its low bank, drinking. On the food wagon, Matt Farmer strummed his guitar, and Paul Stormcloud sang, the lyrics indecipherable, and rather than shatter the peace of the early evening, somehow they combined to add something to it.

Zeeb loved taking the herd to the south pasture. Three nights under the stars, sitting around campfires, talking, laughing,eating Matt’s amazing chicken soup and drinking coffee from tin cups….

This was routine, his comfort zone.

Then why am I considering stepping out of it?

For the life of him, he couldn’t pin it down.

He glanced toward the camp to see who was around. Walt Crosby was off riding the perimeter with the two guests taking part in the cattle drive. There was no sign of Butch Buchanan and Sol Davenport.

Zeeb snorted.Well, there’s a surprise.

The previous summer Sol had ridden out with them, and while it had been clear how much he’d loved the experience, the two men had also added a new activity to their repertoire.

Fucking under an open sky.

Zeeb cackled.Get me. Repertoire. I sound like the boss.He knew Butch and Sol would’ve taken their bedrolls—and probably plenty of lube—and gone out to find the perfect spot.

Good for them.

There was no sign of Toby and the boss either.

Zeeb smiled to himself. Two years had flown by since Toby Merrow had taken part in his first cattle drive, and Zeeb could still recall having a quiet word when the boss wasn’t around.

Except with hindsight, it had been less of a quiet word, and more of a threat.

Don’t break his heart. Because you do that, and I’ll come out to California, and I’ll find you.

Only, it was all bluff. Zeeb hadn’t left the state in over twelve years, and he saw no reason to cross its borders anytime soon: Montana, just like Salvation, was yet another comfort zone.

And in the end, the boss had been the one to call a halt—until both of them got their heads out of their asses and saw what was right in front of them.

Loved-up was a good look on Robert Thorston, one that had been MIA for a while.

Like, five years—until Toby showed up.

The wind picked up a little, and carried on it was the unmistakable sound of a moan, coming from Toby’s and the boss’s tent.

Guess I know what they’re doing. Love sure was thick in the air these days.

Everywhere but in my life.

And where in the hell had that come from?

Zeeb drank what coffee was left in his cup and got up to wash it in the river. He bent down to fill it, the ice-cold water chilling his warm hands. He straightened, raising his gaze to the peaks.

The last tinges of red had yet to disappear.

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