Slow Burn Cowboy. Maisey Yates
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on the table, like it was propping his head up.
Alex was the only one who was upright, his cup held tightly in both hands, and placed down in his lap. Finn imagined the military ran on ranching time.
But the other two—they thought they wanted to be ranchers? They thought they wanted to live this life, this punishing, rewarding life that made you both master of and slave to the land around you? Yeah, he had a feeling that about now they were questioning that decision.
Their misery was balm for his soul.
And a much-needed distraction from all the tension that had wrapped itself around his spine and tied him up in knots over the past few days.
His grandfather. His family.
Lane.
Damned if he knew why he’d said what he had to her last night. Why he’d given in to that snarling, hot beast that was ravaging his gut and demanding he make her as uncomfortable as he was.
She had looked at him like—well, like he’d grown another head. Which should be all the reminder he needed as to why he didn’t go there with her. Ever.
He blamed his grandfather for dying. Blamed his brothers for being here. His whole damn life for being out of whack.
He needed to find his control again.
The ranch.
Once he got his brothers out there working, they would see how in over their heads they were. And how on top of things he was.
He took a sip of his coffee. “I get up this early every morning,” he commented. “Rain or shine. Can’t skip a day. Animals are needy like that.”
“You sound like Grandpa,” Liam said, his tone gravelly and terse.
“You hated it when you were sixteen, Liam. I don’t know what made you think you might like it now. Five o’clock is still very early in the morning.”
“Things change,” Liam returned.
“Not getting up before sunrise,” Finn said.
He turned and headed back toward the coffeepot, frowning when he saw that it was empty. That was going to take some adjusting. He was going to need to get an industrial-sized coffeemaker. He might be an early rising convert, but he didn’t do it without caffeine.
“Let’s go,” he said, turning back to face his brothers.
He led the way through the house, grabbing his Stetson off the shelf on his way out and positioning it firmly on his head. He didn’t bother with the jacket, though mornings were cold, even at the end of June.
It would warm up soon enough and he didn’t need to be encumbered.
The rest of them—he noticed—were wearing coats and sweatshirts. Only Alex had a hat on.
“You think it’s cold?” he asked, smiling. An evil smile filled with more than a little enjoyment for their suffering.
“I’ve been living in Texas for almost twenty years,” Cain responded. “This coastal air is mean.”
“Are you admitting that Texas made you soft? Because I think I hear the sound of an entire state challenging you to a duel.”
Cain grumbled something about Texans preferring a bar brawl to a duel while zipping his jacket up all the way as they made their way down the stairs and headed toward the barn.
Finn made quick introductions to the facility, and set to getting the cows into their positions. He made quick work of explaining prep and milking—since none of them were completely unfamiliar with it—and then he put every single one of them to work.
He had to admit, it was nice to have extra hands.
Morning milking went quick, and from there it was time to deal with the other animals. Then they had to move the cows from one pasture to another.
“Saddle up,” Finn said, smiling as he presented his brothers with the horses they would be riding today.
“I didn’t know you still went in for this cowboy bullshit,” Liam said.
“Without the cowboy bullshit I wouldn’t bother,” Finn said, swinging himself up easily onto his horse. “Besides, at the end of the day, it’s much easier to do it this way. At least by my way of thinking. Don’t need half as many access roads.”
“I don’t remember Grandpa moving the cows around. From pasture to pasture I mean,” Cain said. “We had to bring them in to eat.”
“Well, that’s something else that’s changing,” Finn said. “Mostly we’re not doing grain anymore. Or corn. We’ve been working to get them on a primarily grass diet. A lot of people think it improves the flavor of the milk. Of course, now everything needs to be hormone free. And the more asterisks you can put on the label the better. Hormone free, antibiotic free, grass fed, vegetarian fed... Whatever. It doesn’t necessarily make a huge difference with the bigger dairies, but we were transitioning in order to keep our options open.”
While he made his grand explanation, the others had finished with their tack and had gotten on their horses.
“Does that mean you’re considering that thing your friend was talking about?” Liam asked.
“No,” he said, “it doesn’t. Just hedging our bets is all. Because you never know when some health guru is going to get pulled off the internet and onto a morning show, telling people about the supposed dangers of something everyone has eaten forever. It’s nice to be ahead.” He was being stubborn. Maybe he was even lying a little bit. “What I do,” he continued, urging his horse to go a little bit faster, “I do because I want to do it. And I’ll do it in my own time.”
“Yeah,” Alex said, and without even turning to look, Finn could tell his younger brother had a smart-ass grin on his face, “you have definitely turned into Grandpa.”
There were worse things, Finn thought privately as he maneuvered the horse closer to the cows that were happily grazing in the field. Callum Donnelly might’ve been a cranky son of a gun, but he had been constant. Steady. Nothing like that worthless son of his that had fathered four sons with three different women and hadn’t stuck around to raise a blessed one of them.
Their father had died because of hard living. And he’d left them absolutely nothing.
Yeah, he would much rather turn into his grandfather than his father. No doubt about that.
“Follow my lead,” Finn said. “You may remember something about this from your time here. Cain, Liam, I want you on the sides. Alex, bring up the rear. I’ll be with you.”
They brought the horses into formation, and after that, Finn turned everything else off. All he did was focus on the mountains that surrounded them, covered with evergreen trees and reaching toward the sky. The clouds were burning away, the summer sun pouring out onto the field, spilling drops of gold on the grass, making it look like the ends of each and every blade were glowing.
Yellow flowers mixed in with the green, joining in with the sunlight to make it look like a bit of that warm magic had touched the earth right here.
Finn wasn’t a man given to poetry, but out here, it was easy to veer that way.
Easier still when his brothers were quiet.
This place was his sanity. His soul. And he let that sunshine burn away as much of the tension inside of him as it possibly could.
He could think more clearly out here, on the back of his horse. The world was reduced to the hoofbeats all around him, to the mountains, to the trees.
And he didn’t think about what might happen to the ranch if all four Donnellys ended up living here and fighting over their piece of it. Didn’t think about that dumbass stuff he’d pulled with Lane last night.
If there was a perfect moment in his life, he knew it was going to happen on horseback,