Never the Cowboy's Bride by Amelia Wilde

Author:Amelia Wilde [Wilde, Amelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Brooke

“Cheers to Paulson’s cutest couple,” Luke shouts, hoisting his beer high above the fire. “Second round winners of the strangest competition known to man.”

“That’s a no on the couple,” I shoot back, clutching my own beer to my chest. “But we are winners, yes. One round to go.”

“One round to go! Yee-haw!” He throws his head back to cheer and then drinks, the other ranch hands echoing him. When he’s done drinking he looks back at me. “So, tell us, Brooke. How’d you convince my brother to look like such a fool in front of the whole town?”

It feels like he’s prying, but I’m too buzzed off the beer and the win to care. “Reminded him what happened at the first round. He’s smart enough to see sense if it hits him in the face.”

“She slapped him, boys!” The other ranch hands around the bonfire, two of them with their own wives, chuckle. “Lassoed some sense right out of the air and looped it around my big brother here, who has never in his life seen—”

“Who’s that coming by?” Austin calls out, voice deep and clear. “Is that Julie May?”

Luke swivels around so fast his beer sloshes out of the can. “Julie!” He yells. “We’re over here.”

“That’s what I figured.” Julie comes out of the shadows with a book under her hand. The hood of her hoodie is pulled up over her blonde hair and she taps the book in her hand against her denim-clad hip. “You invited me to a bonfire. This seems like a bonfire, doesn’t it? Hi, guys.” She goes around and greets each of the ranch-hands by name. Miller. How you holding up?”

Holding up from what? The buzz recedes and curiosity takes its place. The betrayal he pulled to get this sweet gig? No, can’t be. It’s got to be something else. But why didn’t he tell me about it? My own part-time ranch hand. He’s basically been running Sweetwater for the last few days—what little of it there is to run. Basically he’s making sure the rest of the buildings don’t burn down. Good man. With secrets.

“Good.” He accepts Julie May’s pat on the shoulder. “How’s things with you?”

“Busy,” she sighs, and plops down next to him in an empty lawn chair. Their voices drop until I can’t hear them. But I don’t have to hear a thing to see the way Luke’s looking at her. He catches me watching and turns his gaze somewhere else, slapping on a big, broad smile.

This is one thing I didn’t expect—a celebration. For me and Austin. Luke put it together after we got our second medals. They’re cheap little things, the kind they give out at the end of fun runs, but I’m still treasuring the weight of the red ribbon around my neck. One step closer to that billboard. One step closer to a mystery cash prize, if Mrs. Howard is to be believed—and she always is. One step closer to...

...to freedom. To going back home. Yes.

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