Montana makes lunch, and we sit and talk about the ranch and what she expects from me. I didn’t realize there would be others working. I was under the impression I was hired for the hard labor. Montana had other plans for me. She wants me to fill more of a supervisory role and to help out with the inventory and paperwork so she can do more things inside the house.

Her ranch hands seem highly capable, and from what she told me, they came with the property when she bought it five years ago.

So, I decide to do a little investigating while she puts Avery down for a nap. “I’m going to go for a walk around the property, if that’s all right,” I inform Montana as I place my plate in the sink.

“Sure, don’t get lost,” she answers from another room. As I walk toward the door, I catch the sounds of a whining toddler arguing about taking a nap.

All things considered, the barn is pretty far from the house. I would say at least a thousand feet. It’s not a bad walk if the weather is cooperating, and today, it is. The temperature has to be at least thirty degrees warmer than yesterday. They weren’t kidding when they said the climate up here was fickle.

Entering the barn, I find Trey feeding the horses. He’s older, maybe his late forties or so, with a light sprinkling of grey in his obsidian black hair, but is built like a brick house, in clothes matching mine. “Trey, right?” I ask as I approach.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’m Ryan. I’ll be helping out around here for a while.”

He looks me over, then turns back to the horses. “Don’t look like no rancher,” he says over his shoulder.

“No, I’m ex-military.”

He stops and turns back around. “You’re one of them Brotherhood Protectors, aren’t ya?” he asks, disdain in his voice.

“I am. Her father hired me to watch over her and Avery.”

At the mention of the little girl’s name, his demeanor softens. “They’re good people. That asshole ex-husband of hers, not so much.”

He picks up a bale of hay and places it in one of the stalls. I follow him as he continues all the way down the barn. “What’s the story with this guy?” I know most of the backstory—at least what was in the dossier. I’m sure he knows more than any piece of paper can tell me.

Trey stops in his tracks and turns back to me. His forehead creases as he grimaces. “He almost got that sweet little girl killed. He’s a drunk, no-good son of a bitch. Any man who raises a hand to a woman—”

“Whoa,” I cut him off. “He hit her?” I’m intoxicated with emotions I had no intention of ever feeling again. Fury builds like deep water currents, threatening to come crashing to the surface.

Any man who touches a woman is a coward.

A fucking worthless coward.

“She tried to stop him from leaving with Avery, and he struck her. She hit her head. Wound up with a concussion.”

My face burns with a rage I try extremely hard to suppress.

Fury blazes like fire, lacing through my veins and creeping up my spine.

That piece of shit is lucky he’s incarcerated.

“He’s locked up, far away from here from what I was told.”

His body stands rigid. He’s just as wound up as I am, but the look on his face tells me another story. He clenches his jaw before he answers. “He’s got the most expensive lawyers money can buy. He won’t be there long.”

“Well, maybe that’s why her father hired me.” I won’t let that cock sucker anywhere near her. I don’t care who his parents are. She deserves so much more than a piece of shit. If he’s raised a hand to Montana…

I bite my tongue before I say something I can’t take back.

“How long have you worked here?”

His shoulders relax, and he turns to stroke one of the horses. “Fifteen years.”

“That’s impressive,” I admit, moving closer to the paddock.

“This here’s Trapper. He’s the best herd horse you’ll ever see.” Trapper lets out a long neigh as if to agree. I reach my hand in to pet him, but he moves, and I retract it. I’ve never been around horses, and I don’t know how to respond. “Don’t be afraid. He’s not gonna bite you,” Trey chuckles. “You’re a city boy, huh?”

“You could say that,” I admit. “I’ve never been exposed to cows and horses like this.” I reach back in, letting my fingertips graze the side of the horse’s neck. When he doesn’t move, I flatten out my palm and stroke his back.

“Don’t worry. Abigail will teach you everything you need to know. She picked up the ranch life real quick.” It didn’t mention in her files what she did before she came out to Montana, only that she met Danny in college.

“What about the rest of the ranch hands?”

“You met Mike and Tony. The three of us are here all year long. Carl and Heath come back to work in the summer for a total of five.”

“That’s all you need on a ranch this size?” I ask, puzzled. With all the things Montana listed earlier, it would seem they would need more help.

“I could use another hand or two, but we make due with who we have,” he answers as he checks the water in each of the stalls. “Irrigation chores begin next week and run through August. They help the rest of us perform maintenance on ditches and pipes, making any necessary repairs. Plus, we move the cattle from pasture to pasture to prevent fields from becoming overgrazed.”

Trey walks to the end of the barn and unwraps a hose. “On average, horses drink five to fifteen gallons of water per day, so every horse should have access to clean, fresh water at all times,” he says as he walks it back, answering my unspoken question. Opening each stall door, he replenishes the horses drinking supply.

“Well, I’ll try to help you out any way I can,” I say as I watch him work. He seems very efficient and definitely knows what he’s doing.

“We’d all appreciate any extra hands.”

As he continues to water the horses, I stroll toward the back entrance. One of the other hands, Mike I think, is watching the herd from the fence. “How’s it going?” I ask as I approach. “Mike, right?”

“That’s right. You’re Ryan?” I nod. He extends his hand, and we shake, then he points to the middle of the herd. “She’s just about to give birth.” I follow his finger to a fat cow off to the side. “One of the first signs of labor in a cow or heifer is her desire to get away from everyone else. We provide a clean grass pasture for them to calve in, and if the weather is bad, we’ll roll out straw or hay to provide bedding.”

The cow is a good distance away from the rest of the herd. She’s pacing around, then stops and lies down. “Once a cow finds her favorite spot for labor and delivery, she’ll lie down and start to push. Calves should come out with their front feet first, followed by the head cradled between their knees,” Mike mutters while keeping an eye on the new mom to be. As if the little calf heard him, a pair of hoofs appear. “That’s amazing,” I mutter under my breath. Little by little, the rest of the baby appears, and the calf is born.

“Now, just gotta make sure the momma goes over and licks the calf dry. Otherwise, I’ll have to step in.” As the words leave his lips, she turns to the calf behind her and starts to lick his head.

I’m all smiles.

I can’t get over the fact that I just witnessed a life being born. It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of cool things. “Amazing, isn’t it?” Montana sighs from behind me.

I spin to the sound of her voice. “I thought the little one was taking a nap?”

“She is,” she answers, pulling what looks like a walkie talkie from the back pocket of her jeans. “Baby monitor.” She smiles as she presents the pink speaker in her hands. If you listen closely, you can hear Avery’s little breaths. “I don’t have long. Her naps are getting shorter and shorter,” she admits with a shrug.

“That’s all right. I’ve seen enough for today.” Leaning my lower back against the fence, I place my palms on the top rail as I observe Montana interacting with Mike. She’s all smiles as she points to the newborn calf, and I’m enraptured.

I can’t help but be caught in her orbit. You gravitate toward this extraordinary thing that captures your attention, and the more you're exposed to it, the more you want.

I’d really like to get to know her better.

Much better.

Montana’s eyes catch mine for a moment, and I blurt out, “Anything else you’d like to show me?” My voice is raspy, and the question didn’t come out the way I had intended.

“I-I think we’re good.” She turns her head to the side to avert my gaze, but the sudden rosiness of her cheeks gave her away.

I let her off the hook and push myself away from the fence. “All right, then. We should probably get back to the house and check on the princess.” As I brush past her, I add, “Besides, we should probably get showered and changed for that dinner I promised.”