Braving The Storm: An Age Gap, Cowboy Romance (Crimson Ridge Book 2)
Braving The Storm: Chapter 6

My boots crunch across the loose gravel as the cool early morning air whips against my cheeks. With fingers clutching my coffee thermos tight, I make my way over to the cowboy perched, waiting for my arrival, on the tailgate of his truck.

Kayce gives me a lopsided grin before jumping down. He’s dressed in faded denim, a worn hoodie with a logo featuring a bucking horse, and a cream-colored cowboy hat.

This man also looks far too cheery for this time of the morning.

“Good morning, Stôrmand, lovely to see you… looking handsome as always.” He calls out and salutes the man who is currently making his way to the barn.

All he gets in reply is a middle finger raised in the air and the man’s back.

‘Come on, you can come feed the hungry fuckers with me, and then we’ll saddle you up.” Kayce shakes his head, a smug expression on his face, and slams the back of the truck shut.

My scrunched eyebrows give away the fact I didn’t understand a word of what he just said.

“Hop in. Come meet the cows.”

“Oh, right.” I slide in the passenger’s side. There are assortments of food wrappers lying around and empty coffee cups in the holders.

“Looks like a teenage boy stole your vehicle when you weren’t paying attention.” My lips quirk.

“Don’t you start… you sound too much like my dad spouting that kinda nonsense.”

I nudge the graveyard of candy wrappers and crumpled brown takeout bag to one side with my boot.

“What exactly are we doing? And please don’t expect me to be anything but a hindrance.”

“This time of year, we’re still feeding out for the cattle. If the snow’s thick, we bring the horses whenever we need to get down to these parts of the ranch, but right now, the track’s good enough we can sit pretty in the truck.” He starts the engine, and we idle our way, bouncing down a muddy, rutted path leading away from the big house and the barn. In the distance, Devil’s Peak watches over the ranch. Pine trees rise up some rocky outcrops to our right, and on the left, grazing land stretches out as far as I can see.

It’s rugged out here, but beautifully so.

“How do they survive the cold?” Considering I’m busy wriggling my fingers in front of the air vent, I’m already feeling sorry for these cows being out here through the depths of winter.

“They’re built for this. We run an Angus breed that can handle the ice and the snow. Even when the weather is ugly as shit up here, they can hack it. The snow packs into thick layers on their coat and acts like an extra layer of insulation.”

“Like wearing a jacket?”

Kayce chuckles. “Yup, keeps ‘em real toasty warm.”

“But you still have to feed them every day?”

“While the snow’s here, and until the pasture really starts to come away again with spring growth, we feed out.”

As Kayce explains things to me, we draw up to a line of black snouts and fluffy-tipped ears peering over the fence at us. Some hang back, a little uneasy of the approaching vehicle, while others are practically hanging over the gate waving with eagerness.

“They knew you were coming.” I can’t help but smile.

“Like I say… hungry fuckers. They can tell time better than you or I can.”

“Is that what they’re waiting for?” Large round bales, much taller than me, are arranged in a long row near the fence. There’s a tractor already down here, with two long fork-like prongs attached to the front. If that machinery were in the wrong hands, surely it could be lethal.

“We cut and bale in summer, then store it for winter. Keeps things simple, so we don’t gotta bring in feed from elsewhere.”

“And you use the tractor to roll it out there or something?” I’m quickly presuming that must be the way to skewer one of those monstrous-looking rounds and actually shift them.

“Sure do. I mean, ranching on horseback is good and all, but some things just need a bit of modern machinery thrown in the mix to make life a bit easier. Lets me get a good look at ‘em all, keep an eye out for injuries or lameness while I’m at it.” Kayce drums his fingers on the steering wheel, not in an impatient way, but like he’s got energy to burn at all times. He’s so patient with explaining everything. I feel like I’m lobbing fifty questions across the net in his direction, yet he volleys them back without seeming overly concerned that I’m being a nuisance.

It’s refreshing not to have curiosity used against me as if I’m stupid for a change.

“How do you manage this all? Or manage that many cows all at once?” There seems like so much work needing to be done, I wonder when he ever sleeps.

“Oh, we’ll bring in some extra help when we need to round the herd up. That’s when Storm comes in extra useful. That bastard can rope ‘em with the best.”

At the mere mention of his name, I immediately picture my uncle on horseback… the whole cowboy package, with chaps, tan-colored hat settled on his head, guiding his horse with complete confidence. Heat flushes through my traitorous body, and it has nothing to do with the warmth from the air vent.

“You wanna drive the tractor?” Kayce interrupts my thoughts.

I look aghast and hide behind my thermos mug. “No thanks. I’d be terrified I might crash it, or run one of the poor cows over.” My gaze drifts over to where the line of bellowing, impatient cattle are waiting, wondering what’s taking so long for their breakfast to be delivered.

Kayce snorts. “Fine. Stay in here and keep warm. It won’t take me long.” As he slides out the driver’s side, he ducks his head back in and taps the center console on the dashboard, dragging my eyes to what looks like a handset and a speaker unit. “If that radio starts blowing up, just answer for me, would ya?”

I give him a look. “What do I say?” Surely, if that radio starts going off, it’s going to be important, and I have no idea what to do.

“Just start yapping. It’ll most likely be Sheriff Hayes checking in, and he won’t bite.” With that non-reassuring statement and a wink, Kayce jogs off toward the tractor. Leaving me to settle back in the front seat and watch on, feeling like my entire world has transformed beyond anything I could have ever fathomed before arriving here in Crimson Ridge.

Fuck you, LA.

I’ll happily sit here and listen to cattle making their sweet noises and watching the steam rise off their black coats.

Maybe, just maybe, this is the place I’m meant to be to mend all the broken pieces inside, after all.

I’ve had my first official lesson in fitting a saddle, and Ollie, my horse I’m going to be riding today, has me wrapped around her hoof already.

No need to attempt hopping up onto her back, I’ll just stand here stroking her mane and cooing at her. She’s beautiful. A pale golden color, like froth on top of a latte, with milky blue eyes.

Kayce hands me the reins and gestures with his chin to follow him outside, leading Ollie through the space between the stalls lining either side of the barn.

He clicks his tongue; I’m not sure if it’s meant for me, or the horse. “Come on, you girls.”

Ollie rumbles and clops forward. She knows much better than I do how this is supposed to go down.

This horse could probably take me for a walk outside, rather than the other way around.

“So, Briar Lane. Tell me where you’ve drifted in from?”

A snort escapes me. “Is this your patter with the tourists? Are you gonna give me the ‘Devil’s Peak Ranch Handbook?’” I shoot Kayce a raised eyebrow, feeling a little hesitant to go near this line of conversation.

“Nah, man, just color me curious.” He strolls on the other side of Ollie’s bobbing neck while we walk toward a fenced area next door to the barn.

“Have you heard of Lane Enterprises?”

“Nope.”

“Good.”

Kayce doesn’t speak for a moment. “Not your kind of people?”

We reach what looks like a small arena designed for the horses. As we stop beside the wooden railing, Kayce leans an elbow on the highest rung and waits for me to answer. He’s easy to talk to, in a way I don’t know that I’ve experienced before, and I replace myself with words bubbling up that I usually would never even consider uttering to someone I’d only met a day ago. “Did you ever feel like you were born into the wrong place? Like everywhere you looked around, you just felt wrong? As if you were wearing a shirt three sizes too small, and it’s itchy as hell, and you couldn’t ever figure out how to get out of it.”

My hand rubs over Ollie’s neck. I’m talking more to the horse than Kayce, yet both of them stand there and listen to my nonsense.

“Weirdly specific, city girl.” He narrows his eyes on me. “Are we talking itchy like sheep’s wool, or itchy like hay getting stuck down your jocks?”

I roll my eyes back at him. “You know what I mean.”

It’s Kayce’s turn to run his hands over the horse now, stepping in front of Ollie’s nose, he glides both palms up and down her face as if they’re having a silent little conversation.

He gives her a crooked smile as her lips pucker and roll. Ollie grins back at him, and it’s such an endearing little gesture between them. Their bond is evident with each secret glance they exchange.

Kayce readjusts one of the straps on the halter before speaking.

“I didn’t get the opportunity to grow up here. My dad gave me up because he was seventeen and thought it was the right thing to do for me at the time. Except it turned out he couldn’t have picked a worse person than my mom to leave me with.” He methodically strokes and scratches around Ollie’s ears. “So yeah, I get it. My life might’ve been a hell of a lot better if I’d been able to stay here with him, but either way, I’ll never know. All I’ve got is the opportunity to start over and take each day as a fresh opportunity to make better choices.”

“I’m sorry things weren’t good with your mom.”

“Take it you know a thing or two about shitty parents?”

That makes me laugh. “What gave it away?”

“Other than the fact you’ve landed in Crimson Ridge… the fact you’re willing to put up with Stôrmand Lane as opposed to whoever you’re leaving behind.”

I feel my heart kick up, thudding a little harder at the mention of his name.

“Is that what brought you here? Running away?” I ask.

“Something like that… maybe more like trying to outsprint my own bullshit and demons.”

“Are you getting back on the rodeo circuit soon?”

“Hopefully.” He flashes a wide grin, with an immediate lightness filling his eyes at the mention of what he obviously loves so dearly. “I put in a fuck load of work last summer, and then Storm’s given me hell all winter to keep my head in the game. I’ll be back training now that it’s spring, gotta get my ass ready for when the circuit kicks off.”

“Does it scare you at all? The competing side of it, I mean.” While I know next to nothing about rodeo, the concept of what he willingly does by getting on the back of an animal determined to throw him off seems like it should, by all rights, be terrifying.

“Nah… horses? They’re easy. They speak a language that’s simple… respect is all they want. When you know the true things to be scared of in life, being in the saddle is the only place in life I know I wanna be most days.”

Hell, after the people I’ve had the misfortune to be surrounded by my whole life, don’t I know exactly what he means.