I’d been working a different section of the ranch all morning—pulling tack repairs and checking pasture gates—and I’d timed my walk back so I could see Hudson come in. But when I stepped through the big double doors, he wasn’t there.
My pulse kicked up, even though I told myself it was stupid. He could’ve been washing up. Or maybe Ozzie had wrangled him into a chore before lunch. Still, I scanned the barn again. No Hudson.
“Mah!”
A blur of flowing hair and the cutest sneakers that lit up with each step darted between two ranch hands. Ivy. She tore across the barn toward me, grinning so wide it made my chest ache.
She stopped just short of plowing into my legs, lifting her arms high. “Up!”
I crouched automatically to scoop her up, but I caught myself just in time. My shirt was streaked brown and gray from dust, my jeans stiff with dried sweat and whatever I’d kneeled in earlier that morning. “Can’t, darlin’. I’m filthy.”
She pouted, the kind that could undo me in seconds, but she didn’t push it. “’Kay.”
I bent closer and whispered in her ear, “Later, when I’m cleaned up, I’ll take you to see Junebug. How about that?”
Her whole face lit up like the sunrise. “Yeah!” she squealed.
I smiled back, but my gaze was darting over the crowd again. Still no Hudson. “Where’s Daddy?”
She shook her head, then ran off to Ozzie.
After a few more minutes of pretending to look for a place to sit, I made my way to the side table where a few ofthe guys from Hudson’s crew were hanging back. They’d been sorting calves together this morning, separating the ones ready for branding.
“You seen Hudson?” I asked as casually as I could make it.
“How should we know?” Warren smirked. “Do we get a pay increase for keeping tabs on who you put your dick in?”
I had a fist in his shirt before my brain caught up and yanked him halfway out of his seat so hard his plate clattered to the floor. His eyes went wide, but that smirk didn’t vanish fast enough for my liking.
“Say it again,” I said through gritted teeth.
The whole barn went quiet, the kind of hush that made every sound sharper—my breathing, the creak of the chair legs, someone’s intake of air.
“Matty.”
It was one word, but Dad’s voice could’ve cut a fence post in two.
I turned my head. He stood by the doorway, arms folded, eyes hard.
“Let him go.”
Like hell I would.
“You’re scaring Ivy.”
That got through where nothing else could’ve. My gaze snapped to her. She was by Ozzie’s side, his hand resting gently on her shoulder like he wasn’t sure if she’d bolt. Her little mouth was pressed in a straight line, eyes too wide.
Shit. She wouldn’t understand I was simply defending her daddy.
I released the kid, who dropped back into his chair with a muttered curse. Didn’t matter. My chest was already tight with something worse than anger.
“Matty. Outside. Now.”
Dad didn’t wait to see if I followed but walked out into the blinding afternoon light. I dragged a hand down my face and went after him.
The heat hit like a wall. Dust floated in the air between us, glittering in the sun.
“What the hell was that about?” he demanded.
