Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“The Nevins are out early,” Hawk noted, leaning on a shovel.
The Nevin land ran along the other side of Adam’s place for miles in rolling pasture broken up by stands of cottonwood and creek-fed lowlands. The Nevins had been there for generations. People said eons, only half joking. Their great-grandfather had driven cattle across this same ground before fences existed to argue about. They ran cattle first and foremost, but they’d learned early not to put all their faith in one thing—rotating crops through the flatter stretches, barley and hay mostly, keeping the land working and productive without stripping it bare.
Thatcher Nevin swung down first. The eldest twin was tall, broad-shouldered, and built thick through the chest and arms, the kind of man who looked carved rather than trained. His dark hair curled at the edges beneath his hat, rain plastering it back, green eyes sharp and assessing even when relaxed.
Pike followed a heartbeat later, leaner and faster, already grinning as his boots hit the ground, dark hair cut shorter, blue eyes bright with humor and curiosity. Fraternal twins, unmistakable but never confused. Thatcher was steady and deliberate, Pike restless and quick, and both solid as the land they worked.
They’d been rodeo stars once and now ranched hard.
“Hell of a morning for fence work,” Thatcher called, voice carrying easily through the rain.
Hawk smiled. “You boys lost?”
“Heard you were hurt.” Pike hopped across the sagging wire without breaking stride. “Figured we’d come see how bad.”
Thatcher’s gaze went straight to Hawk’s cast. “You look like hell.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” Hawk said.
They crossed the boundary line without hesitation. The edges of all ranches in the area were blurred by decades of shared work, shared water rights, borrowed equipment, and favors that were never written down. Thatcher nodded at Adam. “Hey. Good to see you.”
“Morning,” Adam said.
“I heard that you’re already dating the Hollywood lady,” Pike added cheerfully.
Adam shot Hawk a look. Hawk lifted his good hand. “Wasn’t me.”
Thatcher chuckled. “The town is awash in joy at the thought of a new romance.”
“Jealous?” Adam asked dryly.
Pike laughed. “Maybe a little. Mostly impressed.” He rolled wide shoulders. “We sat in the back during the town meeting. That gal is pretty.”
“Very,” Thatcher agreed.
They grabbed spare gloves and fell into the work without being asked—taking posts, tightening wire, moving with the easy coordination of men who’d fixed fences their whole lives. Thatcher worked methodically, testing each repair twice. Pike talked while he worked, cracking jokes, asking questions, keeping the mood light without slowing anything down.
Rain kept falling. The fence slowly straightened, patched and reinforced, still bearing the marks of what had knocked it down.
“You’re good at this, Adam,” Thatcher noted thoughtfully. “Wasn’t sure when you bought the Lorrety Homestead, but you’ve done a good job.”
Yeah, Adam hadn’t been sure it was a smart move, either. But he figured at first that the property would prove to be a decent investment, and now it was part of his life. This ranching and fighting nature all the time. It dug into a guy’s bones and stayed there. “How long do you suppose it’ll be called the Lorrety Homestead?” Old Man Lorrety had sold to Adam and then moved to Florida to live in the sun near his grandkids, but he’d farmed the land for decades before that.
Pike grinned. “Not until you settle down and knock out a couple of little Ridgeway hellions who ride broncs and sing at bars at night.”
Probably true.
Thatcher knocked a post into place with a hard hammer. “You lookin’ to settle down, Ridgeway?”
Adam snorted. “No.” Even so. Pretty brown eyes flashed through his mind.
Pike tossed him a pair of wire cutters. “That’s when they catch ya.”
CHAPTER 6
Bianca followed the directions out of town until the road dipped and the land opened up. A lake flashed through the trees, feeding a river that cut through miles of ranch land. Cattle dotted the wet pasture, dark against the green, with fields and horses scattered wherever the land allowed.
The storm had already burned itself out. A wide blue sky stretched overhead, and the sun hit the ground hard enough to steam. Clouds stacked over the jagged mountains anyway, waiting their turn. Yep. More rain would arrive soon.
She rolled the window down despite the cold. The air smelled like wet dirt and fresh grass. Maybe a bit sweet with spring flowers.
The ranch came into view past a stand of cottonwoods. White fencing ran straight and clean across the paddocks, the kind of orderliness that took work. The house sat back from the drive, solid and unpretentious with its wide porch. Smoke lifted lazily from the chimney.
This place was absolutely perfect for the movie. She couldn’t have designed it better if she’d had years to do so. Would Dawn let the movie be filmed here?
Bianca parked by the fence and spotted Dawn kneeling in the flower beds, a small girl beside her, both of them muddy and apparently unconcerned. A bucket of bright blooms sat between them like a spilled paint set. Bianca jumped out and strode toward them over a rough gravel walkway.