Sleep hadn’t come easy for Trigger. In fact, sleep hadn’t come at all. Fuck, if Colton found out he went after his sister, he would shoot him. Again. He had three bullet holes in his body from Colton trying to stop the bear from rampaging.

Colton was one of them good shots. Practiced. If this was the Wild West, Colton would’ve been one of those infamous gunslingers. He had the drive and eye for it, and thank God for small blessings, because three times Colton had redirected the bear’s attention from wreaking havoc outside of the ranch.

He hadn’t aimed to kill on those. If he found out Trigger had been fooling around with Ava last night, though? He’d put one through his heart and piss on his carcass.

And Trigger couldn’t even blame him. He didn’t have a sister, but he’d been super protective of Ava any time she dated a boy in high school. He had wanted to rip their innards out and hang them from a light pole. That wasn’t sarcasm. He’d spent many a night lying awake, thinking of ways to kill the boys he imagined had their paws on his girl. Trigger frowned so deep his face hurt, and he pulled Harley to a stop. What the fuck. His girl? Ava wasn’t his. She never was and she never would be. Leave that girl alone.

Harley blasted an impatient snort and dragged a front hoof through the snow. Beast. Trigger had asked him to stay still for three seconds and already the stallion was impatient. Well, he was gonna hate this next part.

Trigger sighed a froze breath and scanned the clearing. The frozen creek was giving him hell already this winter, and the cattle were thirsty. He still had a hundred head to keep alive until the auctions in the spring. That was his big payday. Maybe he could float the ranch another six months if he kept the herd safe. From himself.

He hated his life. Hated himself. He was full of flaws and failing at everything. Dad had been so good at running this place, and when he’d gotten sick, where had Trigger been? Running a motorcycle club a few towns over, leaving all the work to Dad. Stubborn old mule didn’t tell him how bad it was at the end, but Trigger should’ve seen it. He should’ve been here.

Harley stomped again and turned, clamped his teeth on Trigger’s jeans and yanked his leg. It wasn’t play. If Harley was more flexible, that asshole would’ve bit the tar out of his shin. Trigger had learned long ago to keep his legs back a few inches to avoid the bites.

He dismounted stiffly, as always happened the day after a Change when his body was screaming to stay in bed and recover. Yanking the reins, he pulled Harley over to an old felled tree and tied him off. With the other mounts, he could just wrap the reins once around a branch and they would stay put. With Harley though, he had to secure him better because the monster would run off the second he yanked free. Trigger had spent a whole lot of hours tracking down his runaway horse.

He bit the fingertip of his glove and jerked his hand out of it, and with the glove hanging from his mouth, he pulled an ax from a tie on the saddle. And with the cattle bellowing around him, he went to work busting up the four inches of ice on top of the creek water, careful to check the mottled white and black bull’s position regularly. He had an attitude to match Harley’s, hated all people and animals other than his cows. If Trigger wasn’t careful, he would get charged from behind and end up with cracked ribs thanks to the flying hooves of Deadfast Demon, a retired PBR bucking bull he’d gotten at a discount because he was a fence jumper with aggression problems.

Whatever it said about Trigger that he liked the mean animals the most, he didn’t really care. This life out here required toughness. Submissive animals got eaten. By him. Deadfast would charge him and smash him in his bear face if he even tried to take a bite out of him. Trigger liked that shit.

The air was so cold it was burning his lungs, and as he broke through the layers of ice and exposed fresh water, the wind shifted. He inhaled twice just to make sure he wasn’t imagining her, but nope. He had Ava’s scent memorized from when they were kids. Sure, she’d changed up her perfume, but her skin still smelled exactly the same.

And in an instant, the memories of how wet she’d felt as he slid his fingers into her washed through him. He had to get this under control. He had to get back to his ornery old self so she would stay away from him and do her job and leave. It wasn’t for him that he wanted her gone. That was gonna feel like ripping his guts out, just like when she’d left here at eighteen. No, he needed her to leave for her own sake, her own safety. For her own chance at happiness. All he knew how to do was hurt people.

And Ava Dorset deserved so much better.

****

“I just don’t understand why you won’t let me see the inside,” Ava murmured over the crunching of the snow under the horses’ hooves.

“Because,” Colton gritted out, “it’s my cabin, and I don’t want you in there. My territory. I don’t have to explain. It ain’t like you ever invited me to your fancy apartment in the city. So stop bellyaching about a lack of invitation into my den.”

“Your den? Why do you talk so weird now?” She was staring at him, but all she got was his profile. He had been avoiding eye contact all morning. Great. Apparently, living with Trigger was making her brother weird, too.

“Lots of people call their houses ‘dens.’”

“I’ve never heard it called that.”

“Aaah! Ava! Are you gonna be on my case the entire time you are here? If so, I’m leaving. I’ll go stay in town, and you can annoy Trigger instead. One day with you, and I’m maxed out.”

“You just don’t like anyone knowing your business, but I’m not just anyone, Colton. I’m your sister, and you’re keeping me at arm’s length. We have two weeks!” Frustrated, she said exactly what she wanted to. “Make me want to come back here again!”

Colton jerked a glance to her, but she gasped. His eyes were that strange color Trigger’s had been in the cabin light. It was almost pure gold.

“What the fuck is wrong with your face?” she said so loud, the white filly named Queenie skittered a couple steps to the side, and she had to let her settle before she said at a less-psychotic volume, “What the fuck is wrong with your face?”

“I told you,” he muttered, giving her his profile again. He lowered his cowboy hat over his forehead. “Bear attack.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Are those contacts? Y’all can’t afford more than beans for dinner but you’re wearing colored contacts? Is it to get girls? I don’t understand. You look fine the way you are.” She huffed a breath and eased Queenie right beside his bay mount with four white socks. “Colton, you looked fine before. You know that, right? Before all the muscles and weird contacts.”

“What are you getting at?” Colton asked in an irritated tone.

“I mean, just because your face is scarred up now, it doesn’t mean you have to change other parts of yourself to take away from it. The scars look fine. I mean…they look badass. You survived a bear attack, and that story is written right on your face for everyone to see. Own it, big brother. Don’t get a complex. Don’t change other stuff about yourself to draw attention from the scars. You’re fine just the way you are.”

Colton ghosted her a glance, once, twice. On the third time, he offered her a curt nod and murmured, “What, did you major in? Psychoanalyst bullshit one-oh-one? Don’t study me, little sister. I’m complicated, and you won’t figure me out. That ain’t a challenge either. I’m not broken, so don’t try and fix me.” With a fiery look, made a clicking sound behind his teeth while kicking his horse before trotting away toward a herd of milling, mooing cattle.

“Smells like cow poop,” she complained under her breath as she watched him leave. “Specifically, it smells like bullshit, Colton.”

“It ain’t bullshit!” he called over his shoulder from much too far away to have been able to hear her. What the hell?

She was bundled up for the frigid morning weather, but still, she got chills on her forearms that prickled her skin uncomfortably. And then she saw him—Trigger. She’d been anxious to see him all morning while she’d gone through the stacks of paperwork on his finances that he left on the kitchen table for her to find this morning. She hadn’t been able to focus, and her attention had drifted time and time again to the front window in hopes that Trigger was coming back for breakfast. When he didn’t, she baked a can of buttermilk biscuits in the oven, buttered all of them, and packed them up in foil in hopes of keeping them semi-warm, then enlisted the help of Colton to find Trigger. He ran a ranch. For all she knew, he could be out all day working, and what if he didn’t have food? Yeah, that had been her excuse to get to see him. Colton didn’t even flinch when she asked him to help her saddle up Queenie, the ancient, scruffy white horse that looked just slow enough not to terrify Ava on her first ride in over a decade. She hadn’t been in a saddle since she’d left Darby, Montana.

Colton seemed to be herding off a monstrous mottled white and black bull that had been dragging its hoof through the snow and inching closer to Trigger. But Colton cutting a path through the herd meant Ava had a clear view of the man who had surprised her so much last night.

He was slamming an ax into the ice over a little river. Each time he connected the blade to the frozen water, chips of ice exploded around him. In a smooth motion, he pulled the ax back and hurled it downward again. Trigger made it look easy, effortless, tireless, but she knew if she tried to lift that heavy ax, she would be worn out in ten swings and have blisters on her palms for days. God, he was sexy. He wore jeans over work boots and an olive-green jacket with sheep wool lining around the collar. The cowboy hat he wore wasn’t the same one as yesterday, this one more beige than cream, but it looked damn good on him. There was his black horse, Harley, pulling as hard as he could on his reins that were knotted to an old felled log. From the divots in the snow, the stallion had already dragged it about ten feet. She gave a private smile for his bad behavior and then guided Queenie to Trigger. He stopped and straightened his spine, but he didn’t turn around as he growled out, “I’m working. What do you need?”

She was so taken back by his rudeness she couldn’t find the words to answer. She’d thought they were past this. The whole fingering and fooling around and making out should’ve gotten them to a better place, not right back to square-freaking-one.

Trigger twisted, and his eyes were full of anger. “Ava, I have a million things on my plate right now. Say your needs and be on your way.”

What was this hollow, aching sensation in her chest? Hurt? When was the last time she let a man hurt her? When Dad left. When he decided he didn’t want to raise two teenage kids and would rather chase blackjack tables and horse betting. That was the last time. Until now.

She pursed her lips and blinked hard a few times. Damn him for making her feel weak, and double-damn him for making her eyes burn with these stupid tears. She wasn’t a crier.

She tossed him the bag of foil-wrapped buttered biscuits, her appetite completely slaughtered now, and said, “I brought you breakfast. Enjoy your day. I’ll ask finance questions later.” And because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “When you decide you can talk to me in a respectful manner, you pompous anal hair.” And with her pink mitten-clad middle finger up in the air, she turned Queenie and made her way back through the milling cattle, because fuck him. And herself. She was so dumb for entertaining the idea of a crush on him.

Her cheeks heated like fire with embarrassment. She didn’t do this. She didn’t go out of her way for men. They rarely deserved the effort, and look what Trigger had done—proved her right once again. She wanted to hide under a rock.

“Fuck!” Trigger said so loud it echoed through the mountains.

Trigger appeared in front of her horse so fast she jumped. Queenie didn’t, though. The old horse just came to a halt as Trigger yanked the reins out of Ava’s hands. He offered her a gloved hand and glared up at her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m offering an apology,” he said low.

Not hearing any “I’m sorry,” she crossed her arms over her thin black jacket and waited.

“Are you on your period?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

“What?” she yelled. Three cows right near them jumped and bolted away.

“You smell like blood, and plus you aren’t normally this emotional. You look like you’re about to cry, so…is it that time of your month? Your lady time? I can go to the store…” He cleared his throat and lifted his voice as he rolled his eyes heavenward. “I can go to the store and get you girl products and chocolate and ice cream and gossip magazines if you want.”

Her lips made an embarrassing little popping sound as her mouth plopped open. “I cut my hand opening the fence to the barn this morning, and I didn’t have a Band-Aid,” she explained, pulling off her glove to show him the gash. It had made the palm of her mitten a darker pink. I’m not on my period. You just hurt my feelings. Apparently, I get more emotional around you, and I kind of hate it.”

Trigger took off his hat and slid it back over his forehead in an agitated gesture. “Woman, you don’t need to feel anything for me. It’s a bad idea.”

“Okay. Noted. I won’t talk to you anymore. Can I have the reins back now?”

He bit his bottom lip and studied her for a few seconds too long to be polite. “No. You can eat breakfast with me.”

“Oh, can I?” she said sarcastically. “How magnanimous of you. Polite decline.”

“Get off the horse, Ava. That’s as nice as I’m going to ask you.”

“No.”

His gold eyes narrowed to angry little slits. “Get. Down.”

“Fuck. You.”

With a terrifying sound in his throat, Trigger wrapped his arm around her waist and slid her off the saddle and onto the ground so fast her stomach dipped like she was on a roller coaster. She yelped as she landed with her sneakers deep in the snow.

Colton laughed from where he was now breaking up the ice for the cattle to drink. “She’s gonna kill you in your sleep, man,” he called unhelpfully. She was tempted about now.

Trigger was all worked up, his shoulders moving with his frozen breath, and his blazing eyes drifting from her eyes to her lips and back again. “I like you feisty,” he growled.

She’d been ready to burn him with a retort, but that surprised her and drew her up short. “W-what?”

He leaned into her, mere inches from her ear as he gripped her waist. “It’s so fucking hot that you fight everything. Makes me want to piss you off just to see your cheeks go red and your eyes go angry. You purse your lips when you’re about to spew something poisonous at me, but it doesn’t make me want to leave you alone, Ava. It makes me want to kiss you angry, just to see if I can get you to quit fighting.”

“You’re a monster,” she whispered.

“You have no idea.”

When he released her suddenly, she stumbled back a step. Her heart hammered against her ribcage as he straightened to his full height and looked down at her. “Ava Dorset, will you do me the honor of eating breakfast with me? First time I ever asked a girl nicely, so don’t make me wait too long on an answer.”

She crossed her arms over her chest again and looked from the black horse, who was still dragging the tree stump, to the bull that was inching closer to Trigger and rolling his angry eyes, to Colton, who was leaning on the ax and frowning at the back of Trigger’s head, to the trio of pooping cows right near them, to Queenie, who was sleeping with one back hoof propped up, soft snores sounding from her, then finally back to Trigger. This was not the breakfast date she would’ve ever envisioned in a million years. But then again, sometimes “different” wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“I could eat,” she admitted.

Trigger nodded once and then turned and made his way toward the black horse, who promptly stopped dragging the log and bit at Trigger when he got close enough. The horse was as rude as his rider. Trigger didn’t even seem to mind. In fact, he murmured something low and smiled as he pushed the horses head away, barely avoiding his teeth. Trigger pulled a thermos and a leather pouch from the saddle bags and then jerked his head toward a small grove of trees. She followed close behind, jogging to keep up with his long strides, until they reached a snow-covered bench that overlooked the creek in the shade of a towering pine.

As Trigger scooped snow off the bench seat, he told her something that shocked her to her bones. “Me and my dad built this when I was fifteen.”

She studied the old cedar bench. Some of the boards had been replaced, and down one of the thick legs was what looked like splintered claw marks, like the ones on Colton’s face.

“Don’t worry, it’s sturdy,” he said, watching her face. There was still a layer of ice on the seat, but he removed his jacket and set it down, then gestured for her to take that spot.

“Won’t you be cold?” she asked.

“Nah, I don’t get cold easy, and besides, I’ve been working on busting up that ice for a while. I’m good. Go on.”

“Okay,” she said, shocked. Ava sat gingerly on the warm jacket and then wrapped it around her legs for good measure. Maybe he didn’t get cold easy, but she sure did.

He handed her a couple of biscuits and then poured steaming coffee from the thermos into the lid before handing it to her. She didn’t normally drink her coffee black, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth either, so she murmured her thanks and took a sip. Not bad. He’d added vanilla to it, and it warmed her from the inside out.

After a few minutes of silent eating, Trigger draped his arm across the back of the bench and said, “You had questions.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling nervous. “Right. There is a big expense that I don’t understand. You pay it out every month through your bank into an account that only shows up on this one payment on the fifteenth. Like clockwork for five years.”

Trigger chewed a bite slowly and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at Colton, who was tying Queenie to a shrub on the edge of the drinking herd of cattle.

“Five years ago, something awful happened.”

“What?”

“Your brother got hurt. Bad hurt.”

“The bear attack?”

Trigger dipped his chin to his chest once. “Right around that time, the neighboring ranch got hit by a bear, too. He slaughtered the entire herd and killed their livelihood. It’s an older couple that runs that land, barely making it. The husband, Mr. Marks, he went after that bear, guns blazing, roughriding a horse he shouldn’t have been on in the middle of the night. He fell and hurt his back. He had a family to feed, and I watched for a few months as his woman struggled to pull them up. And there came a time when I was watching Colton heal, watching what the bear had done to that family, and I had to help. Just…had to.”

“Why you?”

“Why not me?”

“Do they know you’re the one dropping money in their account?”

“No. That was the deal. They don’t ask questions, and I keep them afloat.”

“At the cost of your own ranch, Trigger. You understand that, right? You’re losing this place. It’s bad. It’s really bad. You are in way over your head. Totally upside down on the mortgage, you owe everyone in town, and you aren’t bringing in enough income to cover that family, much less yourself.”

“I don’t have a choice, Ava. I have to figure out a way to dig out.”

“I crunched the numbers. This place is good. Good land, good access to the main road and to town. Someone could turn this into a tourist ranch, a dude ranch, or maybe someplace to do ATV excursions, something. Hell, the hunting around here is top-tier. Someone could come in and set up an outfitter. Get this place going again if they have the capital up front.”

“Nah. I’m not selling. The bank would have to pry this place from my cold, dead hands.”

“Why?”

“Because it was my dad’s legacy.” He looked over at her, and for the first time since she’d known Trigger Massey, there was pain in his eyes. “I let him down in life, Ava. Can’t do that in death. Can’t roll him over in his grave. He deserves better.”

“He’s dead, Trigger. You shouldn’t let ghosts dictate your life.”

“You did.”

“What does that mean?”

“Isn’t that what chased you away from here? Ain’t that why you ran? Your dad left. He ghosted on you, and you stayed as long as the state made you be in Colton’s care, but the first chance you got, you bolted. I think sometimes our ghosts define us. Mine sure as hell does. I want to be half the man my dad was. Half the man, and I could die happy. If I let this place fold, or sell out, I have no shot at half-the-man in this lifetime.”

Wow. Ava took another bite of a now-cold biscuit to stall her reaction. She’d never been sentimental about anything. Not anything materialistic and not places. She could pack up and move anywhere because a girl like her didn’t get attached to anything. It had always been way out of reach. Her heart was cold and stubborn and didn’t attach to warm things. Home was warmth. Trigger wasn’t like what she’d thought. He wasn’t cold. He attached just fine. His dead eyes when they were kids had been a mask. Trigger Massey was much deeper than she’d ever realized.

Now, she wanted to know everything about him. She wanted to figure him out. Wanted to unravel his many mysteries. “How did you let your dad down in life?”

“When you left, you missed a lot. Colton went wild. I went wild. The town was wild. Darby, and Charlos Heights, and Connor got overrun by MCs.”

“MCs?”

“Motorcycle clubs. But not your normal ones. These settled in the small towns here because the law left them alone for the most part.”

“Okay. And you joined one?”

“I ran one.”

Ava choked on her biscuit and rushed to slurp down the remainder of her coffee. “You ran one,” she repeated dumbly, trying to imagine him riding around on a motorcycle and doing…what exactly? “What do MCs do?”

“Illegal shit. I was president of Two Claws, and I was trying to keep the club’s business legit, but the other clubs weren’t doing the same and we caught flack for that. Devil Cats and Red Dead Mayhem fought for us to join each of their black-market stuff, and I tried to keep us neutral. But then they warred, and eventually I had to pick a side for us. It got people hurt. Got two of my guys killed.” He grimaced like those words had tasted like poison.

“Was Colton in your MC?”

“He was my vice president.”

“Oh, my God, how did I not know any of this?”

“Because you didn’t answer his calls or come home, woman. Colton wasn’t ever gonna email you this stuff.”

“When did you two quit?”

Trigger huffed a humorless laugh. “You don’t quit an MC, Ava. I tried. We got hit, and when two of my guys didn’t make it, I dissolved the MC right after the funerals. Just…fucking demolished the entire club. Burned it to the ground, and then me and Colton bowed out and left no good leadership to help them rebuild. I couldn’t stomach my club being pulled between the Devil Cats and Red Dead Mayhem anymore, so I killed the club.”

“What happened to your members?”

“Some were okay with quitting after those funerals. Most joined the other two clubs. My dad passed away right after Colton was attacked, and my focus became this place. But I’m still paying for those MC days.”

“How?”

“You saw my court fees? The dates?”

“Yeah. You found trouble with the law.”

“Not until after I dissolved the club. I was never arrested while I was running it.” He gave her the devil’s smile. “I was never caught for anything.” The smile faltered. “But dissolving the club pissed a lot of people off. I could’ve just handed it down to the ones who still wanted it up and running, but I didn’t. I destroyed it from the inside out so that it could never exist again.”

“So you get in fights over it?”

Trigger nodded once. “So I fight.”

“Can’t you stop?”

“I don’t have it in me to back down, Ava. You should know that about me now. It won’t ever change. If someone wants a fight, I have to give it to them. That’s the way it is.”

“Because of the type of man you are?”

“Because of the type of monster I am.” He twitched his head hard, just like he’d done last night when he was talking to himself on the front porch. “What about you? I want to know about your life after you left. Was it happy? Is it happy?”

“I’m very fulfilled. I went to school, am working in the same field as the major I graduated with, I have an apartment, seven pet plants, and I cook. I have a routine, I work out, and everything about my life is in its exact right place. My financial planning business is taking off, and I’m right on the cusp of moving to a new level with bigger clients. Everything is moving in the exact direction I’ve worked for.”

Trigger blinked slowly and straightened out one of his legs, the heel of his work boot digging into the snow. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question do you mean? Yes, I did.”

“Are you happy?”

Well that took her back. Happy? It was routine and moving in a steady incline, so yes…right? “What do you mean happy?”

“Do you smile a lot? Do you laugh out loud, even when you’re alone? Do you have friends you depend on for bad days and good days? Do you have a boyfriend? Do you hum to yourself or sing in the shower for no reason? Being fulfilled and being happy aren’t necessarily the same thing.”

Ava sighed and frowned. She’d never thought so deeply about this. “I guess I’ve been so focused on the outcome and where I wanted to get that I didn’t really think about singing or smiling…or…” Well, now she was feeling definitely unhappy. “You know, you don’t have to insult my life. It’s a good one. I’ve worked hard for it.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. You were always working harder than anyone around you. I knew you would go on to be successful. Is success what makes you happy?”

“Success is what makes me feel fulfilled. And now we’re talking in circles, and I’m confused because until this conversation, I thought I was perfectly happy. Sometimes it’s not very fun talking to you, Trigger.”

“I get that a lot,” he offered through a dead smile.

“You make me think, and maybe I don’t want to think about this. Maybe I was happy thinking that I was happy, and now I’m questioning things, and it’s not nice to do that to someone. Are you happy?”

“No. Never was and never will be. There are people in this world who are made to shoulder the troubles. They’re made tougher because, from birth, their destiny isn’t to experience joy. It’s to exist, try to live a full life, and try to go out hurting as few people as they possibly can.”

“That sounds like a very sad life. You could be happy, too, you know. Maybe find a girl who makes your heart beat a little faster and have, like, six wild little baby cowboy mini-Triggers running around here someday.”

He chuckled and shook his head, gave his attention to the cattle drinking from the busted-up creek. “There is no girl for me, Ava. I’ve known that my whole life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t want to saddle one with who I am. No girl deserves that. Besides, I’ve had a woman make my heart beat faster before, and you know what happened?”

“What?”

He swallowed hard and then arced a serious, golden-eyed gaze to Ava. “She left.” He rocked upward and dusted crumbs from his jeans. “I’ve got to get back to work. I need to drive the cattle back toward the barn and get some hay in them. Gotta million other things to do, too. Breakfast was…illuminating.”

“Who left?” she asked, standing and handing him his jacket, nice and warm from her butt. “Do I know her?”

“You know her very well.” He tipped his hat and gave her a crooked smile. “Ma’am. I sure thank you for breakfast.”

As he walked away, a thought hit her like a lightning strike. Before she could change her mind, she called, “Was it me? Did I make your heart beat faster? Was I the one who left?”

He didn’t answer.

“Trigger! What would make you happy?”

He slowed and turned, walked backward a few paces as he said, “Saving my dad’s legacy.” With a sad smile, he turned back around and made his way to the black horse.

It was her. She knew it in her bones. She’d been so wrong about Trigger when they were kids. He’d kept himself rude to her for reasons she didn’t understand. He’d kept her at arm’s length…but why?

Saving his dad’s legacy…

The stubborn bits of her…and the caring ones…they vowed in this moment to try to help him find happiness.

She had two weeks, and she didn’t know how she would save this place.

Only that she would.