Hope on the Range

by Cindi Madsen

  The parole officer barked orders through the open car door. A moment later, the passenger side door swung open, followed by a booted foot—motorcycle, not cowboy. Maddox Mikos had on ripped jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket, even though it was eighty-nine degrees. The kid had dark hair, visible tattoos, and rings in his ears and on his fingers. Basically he’d gone to great lengths to broadcast what a tough rebel he was.

  After a few signed papers, Maddox was officially in the care of Turn Around Ranch. The ink hadn’t even dried before Carl was in his car and backing away, as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of the kid.

  Jessica, their resident chef who hadn’t been able to cook a thing when she first arrived, stepped out onto the porch. She still botched the occasional meal, but everyone loved her—especially his oldest brother, Wade, who’d asked her to marry him a couple of months ago.

  Speaking of her fiancé, Wade was making his way over. Dang guy couldn’t quite let go of controlling every aspect of the ranch, in spite of Brady insisting he could handle it. Wade already had a scowl in place, while Jess beamed at the new kid and waved as if she were welcoming him to Disney.

  “Wow, a whole welcome party,” Maddox said, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t I feel fucking special.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Wade replied. Brady could tell he was about to launch into his spiel on respect, but then his cell rang.

  Brady swung his arm toward the porch. “Follow me into the office and we’ll get yo—”

  “They what?” Wade bellowed into the phone. The stream of profanities that followed made Maddox’s seem mild. He hung up and jammed his phone into the pocket of his Wranglers. “One of the kids thought it’d be funny to release all the horses. We’ve gotta go get them before they make it to the field we just sprayed.”

  Brady’s gut sank. The aphids had been awful this year, so they’d hired a guy to spray first thing this morning. If any of the horses munched on the treated alfalfa, they’d end up severely ill. Maybe worse.

  Jessica was already rushing down the steps, sprinting after Wade as he raced toward the stables.

  Brady pointed a stern finger in Maddox’s face. “You will stand right here next to this corral until I get back, or I’ll call your parole officer and you’ll be in a world more trouble than you already are. You hear me?”

  The kid nodded.

  “I need you to say it. Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand.” Under other circumstances, Brady might lecture Maddox on speaking more respectfully. With time of the essence, he snagged the keys to the four-wheeler and fired up the machine.

  By design, the ranch was out in the middle of nowhere, about ten miles from town. So even if Maddox did attempt to run, at least he wouldn’t get far.

  * * *

  This was hardly Maddox’s first time being shipped off somewhere adults hoped other people could manage him, but it was the first time cowboy hats were involved. Judging from the manure-tinged air, there were actual cows around here, too.

  He’d already spent two hours in the car with one uptight dude, only to be transferred to one with an even bigger stick up his ass.

  Shit, maybe he would rather go to prison.

  The country setting and endless stretches of green made his skin itch. He liked buildings he could duck into. Places to hide and streets and alleys he could zip through on his motorcycle and get away from it all. The cot in the office of the mechanic shop after hours, where he could draw in his sketch pad for a while before crashing out for the night.

  At least he only had another three months before he turned eighteen. Then he could go back to working at his buddy’s auto shop.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement.

  A large, tan horse with a pale mane burst into the corral, its female rider yelling, “Hah!”

  Hooves pounded the ground, flipping up dirt as the pair rounded a red, white, and blue striped barrel. The instant the horse made it around that one, it started for the other barrel. The female rider leaned with the steed, her dark-blond hair streaming from underneath her cream-colored hat. Everything about her screamed country bumpkin, but for some reason, Maddox couldn’t stop watching until she’d made it around that last barrel.

  Is she in this ass-backward program, too?

  She didn’t look like the type who’d been in trouble a day in her life.

  I could change that. It was a stray thought, one he shouldn’t indulge in. Boredom often led to bad decisions, though, and he foresaw a whole lot of boredom in his future.

  Maddox stepped onto the bottom rung of the wooden fence, and the girl seemed to notice him for the first time.

  He gave her a nod, and she glanced around as if he must be nodding at someone else. He choked back a laugh and draped his arms over the top log of the corral. “’Sup?”

  “Um, not much,” she said. “Just training. I don’t recognize you, so I reckon you must be new.”

  Seriously with the thick twang and old-fashioned words? “You reckon right.”

  As she studied him, the corners of her mouth tightened in disdain. While literally sitting atop her high horse, she’d judged him as trouble that quickly. Hardly a new sensation, but for some reason, it grated at him more than usual. Must be a side effect of being trapped in the middle of nowhere.

  “Hey, I have a question for you,” he said.

  The line of her shoulders tensed, her hesitation clear, but she trotted closer. Her face was all wide-eyed innocence, making him think she must work here. Probably led the group in singing “Kumbaya” as everyone stood around the fire and preached about how warm, fuzzy feelings had cured all their problems.

  What a crock of shit.

  She gave him a forced smile. “Shoot.”

  “What exactly does racing around barrels prepare you for? Do you run into a lot of barrels in real life?”

  The plastic smile turned brittle. “I run into things—and people—I like to avoid in real life way too often, that’s for sure. On a horse or on foot, it’s always good to know how to get around them quickly.”

  Touché. He’d underestimated her. Despite her sweet, good-girl exterior, a little sass lay under the surface. Messing with this girl is gonna be fun.

  Since she and her horse remained in place, the sound of hoofbeats threw him off for a moment.

  “Uh-oh,” she said, looking beyond him, and Maddox jumped off the fence in time to see a horse rush between two pickup trucks.

  Then it darted in his direction.

  His heart thundered in his chest, his feet cemented themselves in place, and wouldn’t it be just his luck to be trampled by a horse his first day in the country?

  The dark-brown horse stopped short and eyed Maddox warily. It didn’t have on a saddle, and for reasons he couldn’t exactly explain, he stepped toward it instead of away.

  The horse reared, and Maddox held up his hands. “Hey, it’s okay.” The panicked, cornered animal unlocked something deep inside Maddox. He’d seen that type of fear before. Hell, he’d felt it before, too. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Hold him there. I’ll come over and rope him and then guide him to the stables.” This from a cowboy on horseback—the one who’d gotten after him for swearing but then did plenty of his own. Adults were always so hypocritical. Do what I say, not what I do.

  Maddox glanced at the horse again. About two-thirds of its face was white, making its right, pale-blue eye stand out. He hadn’t even known a horse could have blue eyes. The creature stomped the ground, its long nose swinging one way and the other, clearly wanting to run but afraid and unsure of which direction to go.

  “Don’t worry, big guy. I know what it’s like to feel trapped. If you can get away from this place, I say go for it. I won’t stand in your way.” Maddox pivoted, flattening himself against the corral, and the hors
e took the opening, galloping past him in a brown-and-white blur.

  The cowboy darted after him on horseback, and Maddox silently cheered for the beautiful creature to get away. While he might prefer the city, there were miles and miles of prairie land here that led to the Rocky Mountains. Enough space to get lost in for sure.

  If he had his Ducati, Maddox would seriously consider joining the runaway horse. His motorcycle was more home than any house would ever be and had come in handy whenever he ended up in a mess he couldn’t talk his way out of. But once the shit hit the fan, of course he hadn’t been allowed to bring his bike with him.

  All because timing was a bitch—story of his life, really.

  * * *

  In a handful of seconds, Harlow managed to unlatch the gate. She nudged Maximus out the opening, wishing for her rope. Without it, she’d have to stick to herding.

  “See that stallion?” she asked her horse, who loved the thrill of the chase as much as she did. “Let’s help Wade catch him.”

  The young stallion had been sent to the ranch in hopes that Aiden, the Dawsons’ resident horse whisperer, could calm him down and train him. Harlow hadn’t heard whether Aiden had had any success, but judging from the way the horse zigzagged and evaded people, she’d go with not so much.

  Since Wade was closing in on the horse’s left flank, Harlow bolted right, the blood in her veins pumping hot. As soon as she reached the stallion, he veered in the other direction.

  Last second, the stallion seemed to realize his mistake, but since this was far from Wade’s first rodeo, it was too late. The lasso had been thrown, and the loop slipped over the horse’s head. Wade gently secured the rope, and Harlow trotted alongside to help the process go smoother.

  “I’ve got it from here,” Wade said once they were within a couple of yards of the stables. “Thanks for your help, though. I was starting to worry he’d make it to the main road before I could catch him.”

  “Happy to help.” Harlow pulled Maximus to a stop, had him complete a one-eighty, and urged him toward the corral.

  In the distance, the ranch’s giant van turned into the driveway. Harlow squinted in the vehicle’s direction and then leaned down to pat Maximus’s muscled neck and tell him what a good job he’d done. “Who’s a good boy? That’s you, isn’t it?”

  Maximus preened, and Harlow slowed him to a trot.

  The boy who’d spoken to her with a hint of condescension before morphing into full-on ridicule with his barrel-racing question stood in the same spot as earlier. He screamed trouble, his leather jacket, piercings, and devil-may-care attitude broadcasting how tough he thought he was.

  Ooh, I’m so cool. I don’t care about anything or anyone.

  Several of her classmates went crazy for that type, but she had far too much common sense to let herself be affected, no matter how hot the guy was.

  Even if said guy had dark hair, an olive complexion, and thick, expressive eyebrows. Tattoos crept out the sleeve of his jacket and covered the back of his hand. His jeans were torn, and he hadn’t even fully laced the combat boots on his feet, as if he’d gotten halfway through securing them and a more pressing matter snagged his attention.

  His eyes met hers, and she fought against the urge to look away. She hadn’t been ogling him. She’d merely been…cataloging his features. Yeah. That was it.

  While Harlow told herself to pass on by, her mouth had other plans. “Looks like my skills came in pretty darn handy with that runaway stallion. Oh, and since you’re gonna be around horses while you’re here, you might want to work on not bein’ scared of ’em.”

  He opened his mouth as if to reply, but then snapped it shut and shook his head. The sun glinted off the silver bar that ran through his upper ear and the hoop in his lobe.

  A zing of victory sang through her. “What? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it? That figures.”

  The line of his jaw tightened. “You just seem like the crying type, and I’m in enough trouble as it is.”

  The van pulled up to the main cabin, and while Harlow would never admit it, she was glad, because she didn’t have a clever comeback. And she was kinda sorta the crying type. But she was working on becoming tougher.

  Stupid jerk. He thinks he can take one look at me and figure out who I am. Well, he’s wrong. Right then and there, she vowed never to let him see her cry.

  As soon as the van doors slid open, the three-year-old twins Harlow often babysat came running toward her. Their mom, Liza Reynolds, called after them to be careful, and they continued to sprint as fast as their chubby little legs would take them, nearly tripping on the way.

  “Harlow! Were you riding Maximus real fast?” Everett was the chatty, opinionated one, and Elise usually took a minute or two to warm up. Her biggest frustration in life was not quite being able to keep up with her brother.

  Harlow dismounted and draped the reins over the saddle horn so Maximus could munch on grass while she said hello to the twins. Elise reached for her, and Harlow picked her up and slung her up on her hip. “Hey, Princess.”

  Everett stuck his lips out in a pout. “I came over first.”

  “No matter,” Harlow said. “I have two arms.” She scooped him up and plopped him on the other hip. Now that they were getting bigger, it was more of a challenge to balance them both, but she could manage.

  Liza came over, her stern mom expression in place as she glanced from Elise to Everett. “Okay, you two, Harlow can only play for a few minutes. She’s here to train, not to play with you. Remember how we talked about that?”

  “Just a few minutes, but they’ll be good ones,” Harlow said. She boosted Everett a bit higher on her hip. “I needed a minibreak after all the excitement anyway.” She relayed the story about how the horses had gotten loose and spotted Brady, Wade, and Jessica walking in their direction, so all the horses had to be secured and accounted for.

  “I’m gonna consider this my weight training.” Harlow spun in a circle, and the twins clung to her and giggled. Bonus, that made it easier to avoid Mr. Too Cool for School’s stare.

  “Wow, is there a family meeting or something?” Chloe asked as she and Aiden walked into the yard hand in hand. Like most teens, Chloe had arrived pissed off at the world and at Jessica, who’d originally taken the cooking position to pay her daughter’s way. Now they were both permanent members of the ranch and the extended Dawson family, which tended to grow by the year. “Please tell me the boring part is over already.”

  Aiden covered his mouth with his free hand, trying to hide his laugh. The two of them were so cute that Harlow couldn’t help being a smidge jealous of their relationship.

  Who has time for relationships anyway?

  If her mama asked, Harlow’s priorities included preparing for the start of senior year. But honestly, every waking minute involved recalibrating her goals and expectations, thanks to her former roping partner.

  A pang went through her chest. After two solid months of work, Bianca had suddenly informed Harlow that she’d decided to be part of another team. Which meant saying goodbye to winning the All-Around Cowgirl title awarded to the most successful cowgirl in two or more events.

  And if you let yourself think about that, you’ll break your other goal of not crying in front of that jackhole.

  “Do you guys want to go for a ride on Maximus?” she asked the kids, who were growing heavier in her arms by the second.

  The twins erupted with cheers and enthusiastic yeses, and Harlow cringed as she realized she should’ve checked with Liza first. Too late, she glanced up in search of their mother.

  Only her gaze was temporarily snagged by the new guy. He was staring at her, his smirk leading her to believe he was mocking her. He had ridiculously pretty eyes for a dude, a mesmerizing shade of amber that practically glowed, which hardly seemed fair when she’d ended up with boring brown ones.

>   Harlow lifted her chin. Mama always worried about the type of people she’d be around whenever she came to Turn Around Ranch to train or to babysit, but the Dawsons ran a tight ship. Some of the teens she’d made friends with, and others she steered clear of, but she’d never been afraid of anyone on the ranch.

  Finally, she yanked her eyes away and addressed Liza. “Sorry. I should’ve asked first.”

  Worry lines creased Liza’s forehead. “Both of them are a bit much to handle when it comes to horses.”

  “Aiden and I will help,” Chloe offered, and Liza’s shoulders relaxed visibly.

  Mr. Too Cool for School rolled his eyes at them, too, so Harlow decided not to take his obvious contempt for her personally.

  “Come on, Maddox,” Brady said, clapping the dude on the back. “Let’s get you settled in.”

  Maddox. Of course his name was something mysterious and sexy.

  No, not sexy. He undid any chance of that with his personality.

  And he’s not my type. After her last experience, Harlow resolved to stick to all-American cowboys, which there were plenty of at school. Although not many she hadn’t known for all of forever, but that was a problem for a different day. Right now was for getting herself rodeo-ready so that she could at least beat her turncoat partner in all the single-rider events.

  Chapter 3

  “Yeah, the website said it was isolated, but much farther and I’d need a passport to return home,” Mr. Eric Richmond, CEO and owner of the software company RichTech said to one of the people from the corporate retreat.

  There was a large SUV parked by the office. Due to driving dirt roads, the black vehicle that Tanya’s truck could outperform ten times over was now closer to brownish-gray.

  She wasn’t sure whether the guy meant the remark as an insult or if the slight tinge of irritation she felt was due to rushing home yesterday, only for Mr. Richmond to call two hours later and inform her he’d be showing up first thing the next morning instead. Something about a contract negotiation. All she could focus on was disappointment over the fact that she could’ve spent more time with Brady.