The ride to my old sergeant’s house takes me the better part of a month. I feel like a coward, but I can’t face Kyle, my brother, and my president in the Loyal Rebels MC. We’ve spoken on the phone, and he asked me to come back, but I used my old sergeant as a bullshit excuse, said he needed some help on his farm. The truth is, he doesn’t even know I’m coming.
After my disobedience, Kyle is pissed. There’s no way I was going to let the scum bag who killed my sister and hurt my brother live. The rage on his face when I blew that bastard to kingdom come isn’t something I’m going to forget in a hurry. I know I need to have a sit down with him and the rest of the Rebels but not yet. I have to get my head on straight, find my path, and then I’ll be ready to face my MC brothers and my family.
So here I am, on the road, heading to my old Marine buddy’s place. The last I heard from Sergeant Thomas Trent, he was running cattle on his family’s ranch. We were close when we both served our country. I saved his life, and he saved mine on numerous occasions.
I pull into the local gas station, and an older guy comes out.
“Fill ‘er up?”
“Sure, man. You good to do it?” I ask.
“Yep.”
I wait until he’s finished, and we both walk back into the gas station.
“You know where I can find the Trent Ranch?”
“Tom’s place?”
“Yeah, he’s an old buddy of mine.”
The old guy scoffs. “I doubt that. Tom’s got no friends. Not anymore, leastways. That’ll be twenty-three dollars and seventy cents.”
I hand over three ten-dollar notes. “Keep the change. Where did you say the Trent Ranch is?”
“I didn’t.”
I put both hands on the counter and lean over. “Well, how about you tell me now?”
The old guy looks me up and down. “The Trent Ranch is ten miles further down the road, take the first road on the left, then the second right, and keep going, you’ll find it. But you won’t find Tom there.”
“Why’s that?”
“Thomas Trent is dead.”
I rock back on one foot, shocked to my core. “Dead?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
The old guy frowns and shakes his head. “Not my place. Tom didn’t toe the line. He should have sold out, like the rest.” He moves out from behind the counter and walks to the back of the store where he loudly says, “His daughter, Beth, is looking after the place now. Not sure how she’s doing it on her own.”
He disappears through a door and leaves me alone in the gas station.
I shake my head at the closed door, take a jerky stick, and head to my bike. Thomas talked about Beth, a lot, his only daughter. According to Thomas, she can do just about anything a man could do.
I’ve come all this way, I might as well pay my respects and see if she needs a hand. The picture Thomas painted of Beth was that she was plain, hard-working, and a damned fine cook. Not exactly flattering.
Beth
The ranch runs cattle. We have, or should I say I have, a little over five hundred acres, so not huge but enough to keep us busy and put food on the table. My last ranch hand recently quit, and here I am in the arena with a wild horse trying to get him to trust me. Horses are necessary on a ranch. Yeah, I’ve got ATVs, but there’s something about being on a horse and doing your chores. It’s all about the freedom. If you get the right animal, they’ll look after you if you look after them. I’ve got the wrong attitude to be in here with this one, though. I’m angry, and he’s picking up on it. Shaking myself, I let out all the air in my lungs and look at this beautiful chestnut boy.
“I know you’re scared,” I say softly. In response, he shakes his head, and his ears flatten against his head. “Don’t be like that. I’m not going to hurt you, but I do need to break you in. You’re no good to me if I can’t ride you. I need you. In return, I’ll give you a home, food, and protect you. But buddy, you’ve gotta let me get close to you.” His ears come up, and he trots away from me. Well, at least he doesn’t look frightened anymore.
He’s circling me, so I move to the outer side of the arena, into his path, he turns and goes the other way.
“I think I’m going to name you, Titus. It’s a proud name, and he was a companion to Paul the Apostle. Maybe you and I can be friends? Stranger things have happened.”
I begin to spin the lasso down low to start with and walk toward the center of the arena. I pay Titus no attention, even turn my back on him, which is dangerous for a wild horse. Slowly, I spin the lasso higher until it’s in the air and begin to walk in a circle. Releasing the lasso, it lands perfectly around Titus’ neck, and as expected, he rears up. I give him more rope and let him run around in a circle.
I whisper to him, “It’s okay, Titus. You’re safe.”
Titus changes course and comes right at me. I chuckle and move out of his way, but he skids to a stop and rears up. I pull down on the rope, hard. Titus stops and looks at me.
“Okay, Titus, I get it. You don’t like the rope, but this is a first step, the first of many.” I keep my voice soft and take a step toward him.
He throws his head but doesn’t try to run or rear up.
Tentatively, I hold out my hand and place it on his nose. “Good boy. I’m going to take this off you now, and you’re not going to hurt me, are you?”
Reaching up, I grab the rope and pull it over his head, then as soon as he’s free, he rears up, knocking me to the ground. I roll away from him as hooves come down far too close to my body. The sound of a motorbike pierces the air, and then I hear a horn and yelling as I’m trying to put distance between Titus and me. The distraction gains his attention, and he gallops away from me. I get to my feet and head for the gate.
“Are you okay?” yells a biker from the other side of the arena.
“Fine!”
But the truth is I’m not.
I shouldn’t be doing this alone, and if Titus had kicked me, I would have been in serious trouble. There’s no one out here with me, and my neighbors have all but sold out to Myles Graham and his conglomerate.
I keep walking toward the man who is now jogging toward me. He’s wearing a leather jacket, black tee, jeans, and boots. If he’s here for the job, he’s certainly not dressed for it.
When he’s within talking distance, I dust my hands on my ass and thrust out my hand. “Beth Trent. You don’t look like a rancher.”
He grasps my hand, and a tingle goes up my arm. “Sean MacKenny, and I’m not.”
I pull my hand out of his grip and wipe it on my jeans like he’s got the plague. “You with Graham? You tell that man I said, no! Got it! I’m not selling. This ranch has been in my family for generations, and you ain’t running me off.” I step off past him and head for the house. It’s been a long day, and I need a hot shower and a meal.
I’m at the top of the porch steps when he yells, “Wait! I don’t know who Graham is. I’m a friend of your dad’s, Thomas Trent. I came to see him, but the old guy at the gas station said he’s dead?”
I turn, and he’s at the bottom of the stairs. With a shake of my head, I let out a breath, then go back down the stairs until we are the same height. “I’m so sorry. It’s been a rough few months. My last ranch hand quit, and I’ve been advertising for someone for ages, not that I can pay much…” I trail off and hold out my hand again. “Let’s try this again. I’m Beth Trent, and you are?”