Present Day, Idaho Panhandle, Flying M Ranch

“Luc! It is so good to see you,” said Ryder as he came out of the ranch house.

Luc was glad to see his old friend in person. It had been several years since they’d last had a chance to sit down and talk in person. When Ryder had seemed a bit surprised that Luc was willing to come to Idaho for a chat, Luc had reminded him that he had retired from bullfighting. He was now a man of leisure... and bored out of his mind.

“Ryder, mon ami! It’s been far too long.”

“It has indeed. Come on up to the house. I want you to meet Sierra, my wife.”

“Ah, the fated Sierra. I remember a rather drunken tirade the last time we were at the Calgary Stampede that started with your cursing her name and ended with you crying in your whiskey.”

“Crying in his whiskey, was he?” said a beautiful blonde.

Luc surmised that this was the woman who had haunted his friend’s nightmares and now, according to all the stories running around, brought joy to his dreams—both when he was asleep and otherwise.

“Just one time, Freckles. Don’t get any ideas,” said Ryder, teasing her.

Sierra looked over to Luc who flashed her dozens of fingers, causing her to laugh and Ryder to turn and look at him. Sierra joined her husband, putting her arm around him.

“Of course, you two would hit it off. Deadshot likes her too,” said Ryder, laughing.

Sierra giggled. “Don’t you just think he’s the sweetest thing?”

“Deadshot or Ryder?” laughed Luc, liking his good friend’s bride.

“Deadshot. We both know Ryder is a pain in the ass.”

Ryder hugged her close and whispered, “Not yet today, little girl, but that can change.”

Luc smiled as Sierra blushed and kissed Ryder.

“Come on up to the house, Luc. Ruth is just setting out lunch.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Luc.

They entered the house and enjoyed lunch. Luc could readily understand why no woman had ever been able to capture Ryder’s attention for any length of time. His Sierra was quite spectacular. Beautiful, smart, funny, and sassy—combined with the obvious way she felt about him, Luc thought Ryder had been right to leave everything he had built in France and come back to claim her.

After lunch, Ryder, Luc, and Charlie, the Flying M’s general manager, walked down to the barn. Luc wanted to see Deadshot, who had a special stall and corral.

Deadshot looked angry when he saw Ryder open his stall door. But the minute Luc stepped through, the big bull relaxed and walked over to him looking for a treat.

Luc laughed. “I did not forget you,” he said as he fished out an apple he had snagged from the kitchen. The bull pulled it from his hand and munched contentedly while Luc rubbed his head.

“I’ll be damned,” said Charlie. “I know what you said, Ryder... but I’ll be damned. I thought it was weird the way he was with Sierra, but I didn’t expect he’d have somebody else he’d tolerate.”

“I know,” Ryder said with a wry smile.

“How’d you get him?” asked Luc. “I would have thought he’d either be retired to sire more bulls or made into tasty meals.”

“He got too dangerous for anyone to handle. But I’ve never seen a more perfect bull especially for bucking. I convinced them to sell him to me with the agreement that we’d collect his semen and they’d be given ten of whatever was viable.”

“You planning to start adding bucking bulls to your breeding program?” asked Luc, intrigued.

“We are; broncs as well. That’s where you come in. I know you said you were retiring from bullfighting, but I’ve never known a man who had a better way with rough stock than you. I mean I know Deadshot is the one folks talk about, but you were always able to get stock to settle in the chutes and get cowboys to safety when they hit the dirt. Up for a ride?”

“On such a beautiful day? You don’t really need me to answer, do you?”

Ryder laughed. “Not really. Charlie, you want to come with us?”

“I’d love to, but someone needs to go check on those mangy mustangs you insist on keeping for Sierra and she said you’d told her she was...” Charlie cut himself off.

Ryder smiled. “I asked Charlie to do it as currently Sierra is under house arrest.”

Luc looked between Ryder and Charlie. “I take it you are the head of your household, old friend?”

Luc and Ryder had spent many an evening talking about relationships with the fairer sex. They agreed that it took a woman of great strength and character to be willing to submit to her partner’s authority and to agree that the final decisions in their life together would be his. And both believed strongly in marriage.

Ryder chuckled. “I am indeed. Most of the time Sierra behaves herself...”

“But not so much that it doesn’t make life entertaining?” asked Luc with a smile.

Charlie laughed out loud. “He has a loose definition of ‘most’... she gives him a run for his money.”

“All right, gentlemen, that’s enough. She hates that Charlie knows she answers to me, but there would be hell to pay if she found out that you did.”

“But unlike many, I would have nothing but the utmost respect for her. When a man cares so deeply for his woman that he is willing to hold her accountable, it only strengthens the bond between them. It takes a strong woman to be able to submit to her man, but it seems to be working for the two of you.”

Ryder smiled. “It is. We were talking just this morning and realized that neither of us has ever been happier. In case you missed it, I’m madly in love with my freckle-faced cowgirl.”

“That is as plain as the adorable freckles on her beautiful face. I’m happy for you, Ryder.”

They saddled a couple of horses and headed out. They rode for more than an hour just sharing things about their lives. They’d stayed in touch so both knew the basic broad strokes of the past few years but riding in the beautiful countryside afforded them the time to fill in all the blanks.

“I want to thank you again for agreeing to come,” said Ryder.

“Of course, but I still don’t know why you wanted me to.”

They crested one of the abundant rolling hills that made up the landscape. Only this time what was spread out below was an amazing view of Crooked Creek—the ranch that had been in Ryder’s family for almost two hundred years.

Ryder gestured to the main house, barn, and out buildings below. “This. This is what I wanted you to see.”

“It’s beautiful, Ryder. Considering the last pictures I saw showed the place in pretty rough shape, I’m impressed.”

“I don’t want you to be impressed, Luc. I want you to be part of it.”

“Is Charlie going somewhere?”

“No and not planning to retire either. John, Sierra’s dad, left him a boatload of money, a place to live for the rest of his life, and part of the profits from the ranch so he doesn’t have to work, but I swear he’ll die in the saddle. And he’s damn good at his job. The men respect him and there’s no one better at managing beef cattle.”

“So again, why?”

“Because I need someone else to run the other side of the business. We had thought about having two foremen—one at each ranch—who answered to Charlie. But as we started to really put a business plan in place, Sierra and I realized what we needed was Charlie to oversee the beef business, someone else to oversee the rodeo stock, and a third person to head up the dude ranch and wedding venue.”

Ryder looked over at his friend and smiled when he saw Luc was intrigued.

He continued, “I want to build a breeding program second to none. I’ve got folks queued up to hand us contracts for some of the big ones here in North America and also over in France. We plan to use Crooked Creek both as headquarters for the rodeo stock and as a wedding venue and kind of dude ranch where people can bring their own horses and either help work cattle or just ride our range and use our line shacks. Sierra is going to take on finding someone for the wedding stuff, but I want you to come on board to build and manage the rodeo breeding stock business.”

“You knew I’d retired from bullfighting.”

Ryder nodded. “Not surprising. That’s a young man’s game. And while you and I aren’t old, our knees ain’t what they used to be.”

Luc laughed. “That’s for sure.”

“You’d be perfect, you know the breeding game and you know everyone I know in the rodeo business and some I don’t. You know firsthand what it takes to make a great bronc or a great bull. Charlie wants to stay on the Flying M. It’s his home. I’d propose you’d stay at the main house down below. We could run broncs from this place and the bulls from Flying M.”

“Probably the best thing to do if you’re going to have greenhorns around. Wrong person steps in with Deadshot and things could get ugly.”

Ryder grinned. “So you’ll think about it?”

Luc shook his head. “No. I’m afraid not.” He looked over at Ryder, whose face resembled a small boy who’d just been told there was no Santa Claus. “I think your plan is exciting and bold. You, mon ami, have your foreman or whatever you want to call it for your rodeo stock business.”

If Ryder’s face had previously resembled a disappointed small boy, his response now was that of one being given keys to the candy store. His sense of relief spread from his broad smile to his shining eyes. Clearly, he had been counting on Luc to say yes.

“That’s great. Sierra asked me this morning what my backup plan was if you said no, and I had to admit to her I didn’t have one. You’re the only person I ever wanted in the role. Besides with that French accent you’ll have all those girls who come to ride wrapped around your little finger.”

Luc shook his head. “I’m afraid that no longer has the appeal it once had. I don’t envy the young riders with a different buckle bunny every night to warm their beds. I envy men like you who’ve found that one woman to build a life with.”

Ryder nodded. “It is a sweet life. Sweeter than I ever imagined.”