Page 10 of Wrangling Hearts
Until now, when I was the focal point. Me and BeaufuckingMcLeod.
I blinked quickly, not believing what I was reading. I glanced up at the women, all of them with varying looks of pity and concern. It only pissed me off more.
The headline was in big, black, bold letters:
Hayes and McLeod? More like Hatfield and McCoy 2.0
“This can't be real,” I muttered to myself, skimming the article. It spoke of the failed merger, old rivalries being reignited, the Cavendish partnership, and the fact that Beau and I had both applied for it.
“Is it true?” Abby asked. “You and Beau are competing for the spot?”
“Of course it’s true!” Cynthia said. “It’s in theWhispers, and they’re never wrong.”
I swallowed back the bitter taste in my mouth. “I gotta go.” I pushed my cart out the door and threw the feed into my truck bed, nearly breaking the plastic bags and sending pellets everywhere.
“Hatfield and McCoy,” I scoffed, shaking my head as I peeled out of the parking lot. Kind of a big stretch to compare us to them, surely. But that was theWhispers’ M.O.—drama and making mountains out of molehills. Nobody was out for blood here. Beau and I were grown adults; we knew how to be mature and civil about this.
Maybe.
My tires kicked up dust as I flew down Circle M’s driveway. I hadn’t been here since I was a kid, but it all looked the same. Lush pastures, cattle everywhere, pristine pens, the ranch’s stupid emblem on everything. It was like they tried to own the universe or something. Leave it to a bunch of men to throw their dicks around and stamp their brand on every single thing they could.
I hopped out of my truck, the engine still running—this wouldn’t last long.
A cowboy sauntered over on horseback. He didn’t even attempt to hide the fact that he was checking me out as he shot me a flirty grin. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
“Where’s your boss?”
“Mount?”
I had to bite back my smile. “No. Beau.” His own men didn’t even view him as the one in charge, and he expected to win a partnership with a company like Cavendish? It was just egotistical enough that I knew theWhispershad been right, and he had applied.
But I needed to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Pun intended.
The ranch hand pulled out a walkie-talkie because their land was so big they needed them, and a wave of envy hit me. I wasn’t one to feel that emotion often, but when it came to what Circle M had because they stepped on Golden Bridle’s neck, envy was one of the many things I felt.
“Beau. There’s a pretty girl here to see you,” he said into the walkie while staring at me.
I rolled my eyes, looking away from him. Cowboys were shameless flirts. Always had been, always would be.
My spine snapped straight at the sound of Beau’s voice coming through. Deep and gruff. “What? Who?”
“What’s your name, darlin’?”
“You must be new in town,” I said, and snatched the walkie out of his hand. He just stared at me, offended, like I had dented his pickup. My maturity was slipping through my fingers like sand, so the faster Beau got here, the better for us both. “Beau. It’s Claire Hayes. I’m by the barn. You’ve got two minutes to get over here before I come hunt you down.”
The walkie went wild at that. Men’s voices overlapped one another with varying responses like, “Someone’s in trouble,” “Oooooh, Beau’s been a bad boy,” “I want to watch him get his ass handed to him.”
I handed the walkie back to the ranch hand. “You can get back to work now. I’ll be fine here,” I said with a condescending pat on his leg. He looked at me like he didn’t believe me, or like I’d set the barn on fire if left unsupervised.
I wouldn’t. Not today, at least, depending on how Beau behaved.
Beau showed up a minute and a half later—I timed it. I straightened off the fence that divided our properties as he got closer; he was all broad-shouldered bravado as he approached on his Palomino, smirking.
“You can pet her if you want,” he said knowingly. “Daisy won’t nip at ya.” I hated that she was one of the prettiest horses I'd ever seen, with her blonde coat and white mane, but I hated that Beau knew I thought so more.
He spoke with that same raspy voice I’d heard on the walkie, but hearing it in person, this close, was…intense. I crossed my arms, shifting on my feet. “I’m good, thanks.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He dismounted and tied her to the fence so she wouldn’t wander off. Before I could stop myself, I looked him over. Scuffed boots, Wranglers that fittoowell, a black button-down, that arrogant smirk, and icy blue eyes that were laser-focused on me.
