A Rancher's Love

by Vivian Arend

  “Ryan and Madison are getting married? Man, that’s quick,” Tucker said. “Didn’t she show up in December?”

  Alex shrugged. “When it’s right, it’s right. Besides, they’ve been good friends since they were young.” He gave Tucker a pointed look. “You might know someone like that. Someone who’s currently involved with a woman he spent a lot of time with when they were young, and who knows where it could lead?”

  “Enough,” Tucker said, but he was amused. It was nice to have someone like Alex around who was willing to banter back more than just a ‘yes, sir.’ “What does Ryan need?”

  “They’re holding the wedding over at Red Boot Ranch, but they hope to have all their friends join the party. Can you make sure everyone on the list has Saturday off?”

  Tucker whistled. “Wow, talk about getting the job done double quick.”

  “Ryan’s talking about them trying for a baby right away. Seriously, the man is very action-oriented, shall we say.” Alex grinned. “And that’s not me gossiping. Ryan has been telling absolutely everyone the same thing. Madison has given up getting him to stop oversharing. She thinks it’s funny.”

  “Hey, whatever works for a couple’s relationship,” Tucker said. “Give me the list, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Which meant if he had to work a double shift, he would. Impulsive last-minute activities like this needed to be encouraged as far as he was concerned—

  A second later he caught himself. “Damn, I must be feverish.”

  Alex frowned. “What?”

  Tucker pressed a hand to his forehead. “I just caught myself thinking being spontaneous and impulsive was a good thing. The Tucker of a couple years ago just got indigestion and went and checked a few spreadsheets to calm down.”

  Laughter burst from the other man. “You’re all right.” Alex looked him over with satisfaction. “It’s been good to have you around. Seriously.”

  “Thanks. Get me the list as soon as you can.” Tucker took off, because if he needed to juggle the schedule, he needed to get a couple other things done first.

  “I will,” Alex called after him.

  Tucker had just stepped from the warmth of the training barn and into the darker passage between buildings when something solid barreled into him and shoved him against the wall.

  Tucker moved instinctively, rolling away from the force and bringing up his hands protectively as he found his balance.

  “Fucking asshole. Course you’d hide behind her skirts. Know who’s got the balls in your relationship.” A fist snapped toward him.

  Tucker ducked to the side, blinking hard to focus. “Jim. What the hell? Back up and talk this out.” Tucker ordered.

  Instead, another fist flew at his face. Tucker deflected, but not hard enough, and the blow made contact with his shoulder, spinning him slightly.

  “She told you to get rid of me, didn’t she?” Jim demanded.

  “Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tucker said, retreating quickly toward the second door. While he could defend himself, fighting with one of the men was not something he wanted to do unless it was absolutely necessary.

  Jim jerked his chin upward. “That cold Stone bitch. I didn’t even touch her. I guess I should’ve, considering you’ve managed to fuck your way to a pretty prime position. Next time I see her, I won’t be so polite. Maybe track her down in that greenhouse of hers and have some fun, right?”

  Which meant the dammed bastard had watched Tucker and Ginny fool around. He wouldn’t have seen much, not with the frosted tint on the windows, but Tucker’s fury shot to high.

  Yet it was the rest of what Jim had said that crossed a line there was no coming back from. Somehow, instead of killing the man, Tucker shoved open the door behind him, light pouring into the space. “Get your ass out there.”

  Jim rushed him, catching hold of Tucker’s arm at the last moment to spin him into punching distance. “Fight, you fucking pansy. Cut my hours? Make me redo training? It’s all that damn bitch’s fault.”

  Tucker and Luke had spent a lot of years fighting. Fighting because they wanted to learn, fighting sometimes because they were seriously pissed at each other.

  Jim might’ve been in a few bar brawls, but he’d never actually fought. That much was clear as Tucker stood back and got into position.

  “You don’t want to do this,” Tucker said. “Walk away, and I’ll let Ashton deal with you. But you’re done. You’re not working another day at Silver Stone.”

  “Eat shit,” Jim shouted, snarling like a rabid dog.

  He would’ve been better off simply swinging instead of working to look fierce. Tucker avoided the next blow and got in a satisfying jab to Jim’s ribs.

  A crowd moved toward them, which had been Tucker’s hope in shifting them into a more public place. He had zero objection to taking the man down, but legally, he needed to stay on the right side of the law for the ranch’s sake. Which meant staying in defensive mode.

  But defensive with a reckless opponent meant hurting Jim enough to make him stop the bullshit. Tucker dodged another wild roundhouse, jabbing a fist into Jim’s gut that sent the other man staggering backward.

  “Stand down,” Tucker ordered again.

  Jim rushed him, screaming in anger. Fists flying, knees rising up. Tucker dodged the best he could, but some of the wild blows landed. By the time a set of ranch hands had pulled Jim back, Tucker had been hit by a sheer fluke in the eye and the nose, blood dripping over his lips.

  “What the hell is going on?” Ashton stepped into view.

  “He figures since he’s fucking the boss’s sister, he can do anything he wants.” Jim snapped a finger at Tucker. “She got all pissed at me the other day. Didn’t do a thing, but I knew she was gonna tell some lies to get me in shit.”

  Ashton folded his arms over his chest and stepped directly in front of Jim. He looked him over with disdain. Tucker was happy to see that the other man’s face looked worse, in spite of Tucker only defending himself.

  “If you’re talking about the fact you were put on probation and re-training, that was me,” Ashton said.

  Jim’s head snapped up. “You?”

  “Me. Because that’s what we usually do around here when a man’s not doing his job but has the potential to make things right.” Ashton shook his head. “But this nonsense is a clear violation of everything you agreed to when coming on board this ranch. You’re fired.”

  Jim swore, but Ashton ignored him. He glanced at the hands standing nearby. “Mason. Cooper. Walk Jim to his room so he can clear it out. Be in my office in an hour and I’ll cut you your final cheque.”

  “You can’t just kick me out.” Jim complained.

  “I’m not kicking you out,” Ashton said calmly. “You broke the terms of your contract, so you terminated yourself. Now get the hell out of here. If you don’t go willingly, we’ll call the RCMP.”

  Jim spat at the ground in front of Tucker. “Bastard.”

  “Take care how you act right now,” Tucker said softly, a mirror imitation of his uncle. “Ranching is a tightknit community, and there’s not a whole lot of places out there that want to deal with your kind of bullshit. You want a new job anywhere local, you need an attitude adjustment.”

  Jim left. He didn’t go quietly, but he did go, kicking things out of his way until the two men on either side of him moved in and all but straight-armed him into the snowy yard.

  The men still gathered looked back and forth from Ashton to Tucker as if waiting to see what happened next.

  “The troublemakers always make themselves known.” Ashton said it loud enough that everyone around them heard.

  Tucker glanced around, meeting the men’s eyes. “Any questions?”

  One hand rose in the back. “You really dating Ginny Stone?”

  Tucker chuckled, slipping a hand across his mouth and examining the blood he wiped off. “I really am. So mind your manners, same as you would with any woman who comes around Silver
Stone, understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” the young man said quickly. Then he grinned. “Would it be improper to say good for you?”

  Ashton made a noise that sounded remarkably like a smothered snicker before he growled out another order. “Back to work, all of you.”

  Tucker waited until the crowd dispersed. “Okay with you if I finish taking care of Jim?”

  His uncle stared at him for a moment then nodded slowly. “Don’t do anything that’ll get you arrested.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Tempting as it was to head off on his own, it was probably good to have some checks and balances in place. Tucker gave Luke a call and asked to meet at the mess hall.

  His friend arrived quickly, eyeing Tucker’s bloody face with curiosity and concern until Tucker explained what had gone down, and then anger rose to take its place.

  “He’s gone?” Luke demanded.

  “Packing. I want to make sure he leaves with a full understanding of the situation.” A sense of dread slipped in even as Tucker made the decision to go ahead. His anger and sense of justice made the next step logical and inevitable, but it was also potentially trouble he couldn’t walk away from unscathed. Ginny was not going to approve. “This is mine to deal with, got it?”

  Luke reluctantly nodded. “Don’t kill the man.”

  “No guarantees,” Tucker murmured.

  The door to Jim’s quarters stood open. Mason and Cooper stood outside with their arms over their chests and frowns fully in place.

  They both snapped upright when Tucker and Luke appeared.

  “We got this,” Luke said quietly, gesturing toward the mess hall. “Grab a coffee if you need one, then get back to work.”

  The men eyed Tucker before offering a nod of approval, taking off quickly as ordered.

  Jim must’ve heard something, because he marched through the door, sneering in their direction as he tossed bags in the back of his truck. “Come to gloat?”

  Luke stepped back.

  Tucker gestured toward the room. “You empty it out?”

  The other man folded his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

  Tucker spread his hands in a come and get me attitude. “Since you’re no longer an employee, I’m no longer your boss. Which means if you want to take a shot at me, I’ll give you the chance.”

  An evil sneer scurried across Jim’s face. “Fucking right, I want to take a shot.”

  Jim moved like the snap of a slingshot, fist flying to make contact with Tucker’s jaw. Tucker turned at the last moment and let most of the impact slide off.

  Then he raised his fists and stepped forward. “My turn.”

  Jim threw another punch, but Tucker pushed it aside easily before slamming his fist into Jim’s face. The other man toppled to the ground, arms flung back, legs askew. He lay there motionless for a moment, shocked, before scurrying away crab-like.

  He was too slow. Tucker caught him by the front of the shirt, lifting him skyward to deliver another punishing blow.

  And another.

  The temptation was strong to keep letting the man have it, because while Jim had only been moderately rude to Ginny in person, his threat to stalk and hurt her was fucked up. This was the kind of man who would escalate. Somewhere, sometime, things would go too far.

  What if Tucker wasn't around to protect Ginny? What if some other person ended up on the receiving end of Jim’s bullshit attitude?

  “Tucker, that’s enough.” Luke spoke softly. The voice of reason, cutting through the haze of Tucker’s anger.

  His friend was right, dammit anyway.

  Tucker hauled Jim to his feet one final time and shoved him toward his truck. The man grabbed the door and clung to it for support.

  “That was for threatening my woman,” Tucker said quietly. “Here’s your final warning. I have enough contacts, so trust me when I say you will be watched. If you ever intimidate or scare or lay a hand on anyone in the future—woman, man, I don’t care—I will hear about it. You will not like what happens when I hunt you down.”

  Tucker turned on his heel and left without a backward glance.

  Blood pounded in his ears so hard he didn’t realize Luke marched beside him, his usually happy face turned thoughtful.

  They were nearly at the arena when Luke laid a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and squeezed. “I told Kelli I’d meet her in a few. She has some crazy idea I’ll let her up on the back of that new bronco we brought in.”

  “Jeez. The woman is fearless,” Tucker said.

  “Scares the hell out of me sometimes,” Luke agreed. He pulled Tucker to the side of the barn where there was a sink and handed over a handkerchief. “Wipe off the blood before you scare someone.”

  “A little fear might be a good thing,” Tucker growled.

  Luke waited until Tucker had removed the surface evidence of the fight, then cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

  Tucker glanced at his friend. “For what?”

  Luke tilted his head toward the crew quarters. “For not killing the bastard, but also, for putting the fear of God into him. Kelli might scare me with how she acts sometimes, but I don’t have to wonder if she’s safe from being assaulted right here in our own backyard. Ashton’s been a big part of why that is, and it’s clear you’ve got the same mindset.” He stuck out his hand. “So, thanks.”

  Tucker ignored the hand and went for a hug, pounding Luke firmly between the shoulder blades. “Aw, I love you too, sweetheart.”

  Luke shoved him, and the two of them play-wrestled for a moment.

  A sharp whistle rang out, followed by a laughing call. “Hey, get to work, slackers, or I’ll tell Ashton on you.” Kelli strode up, all light and happy, and Tucker felt deep satisfaction roll right down to his toes.

  Yeah, Luke was right. There were a few things that his uncle Ashton had been doing over the years that were absolutely worth keeping a priority. For Kelli’s sake. For Ginny’s. For Caleb’s little girls who would eventually be a part of Silver Stone’s daily operations.

  For a second, a vision of a little girl with Ginny’s dark hair and big brown eyes flashed to mind, and Tucker kept his feet through sheer willpower alone.

  Only he also knew Ginny’s opinion on fighting. What if his actions had just destroyed his chance at happiness with the woman he loved? Fear at a level he’d never known before rocked through him for a split second before he forced it back.

  Ginny was not like his parents. Ginny was reasonable—sort of. He had to trust that what they’d built between them was solid enough to deal with a difference in viewpoint.

  There would be no compromise on this, though. Nothing less than her safety, and the safety of others, was acceptable.

  He just hoped that when the dust settled, he would still be standing.

  20

  Something was up.

  Not only did heads pivot to follow her as Ginny passed by stalls on the way to unsaddle her horse, but low murmurs followed as well.

  “Let me get that for you.” Alex hurried forward to help lift off the saddle, ready to carry it to the tack room.

  “Thanks.” She caught him before he could vanish, leaning in close to whisper her question. “Why is everyone suddenly acting as if we’re in church?”

  Alex blinked for a second, obviously trying to figure out some non-controversial thing to tell her.

  “Alex,” she warned. “Lie to me, and I will set Yvette up on a date, and it won’t be with you.”

  His jaw dropped. He snapped it shut. “You’re mean.”

  “Motivated,” Ginny volleyed back before taking pity on him. “I won’t do that. I can tell you like her, and from what I’ve heard, she doesn’t hate your guts. Much.”

  He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  She snickered. “Tell me about it.” Then she narrowed her gaze. “Literally. What’s up with the peanut gallery? They’re all acting as if I’m about to go off like a firecracker.”

  Alex hoisted the saddle t
o his shoulder. “One of the hands got fired.”

  “Really?” She considered, but couldn’t imagine why that meant eyes on her. Unless… “Jim?”

  “Damn, you’re good,” Alex said, backing away from her. “That’s all I’m telling you. Talk to Tucker.”

  “Thanks for the help,” she called after him.

  “Any time.”

  A moment later, her phone buzzed with a message.

  Tucker: You got time for an Operation Prove It meeting?

  Ginny: After I groom Prancer, sure.

  Tucker: Meet you in the secret hideout.

  The exchange made her smile and increased her curiosity. Having big strong Tucker message her to meet him at the hideout was rather hysterical.

  Only when she rounded the corner to their out-of-the-way gathering spot, adrenaline rushed in and drowned all lingering amusement. “What happened to your face?”

  He raised a sheepish gaze. “Good to see you too.”

  She dropped to the bale beside him and softly stroked the corner of his eye. “Tucker.”

  He covered her hand with his and lowered their joined fingers to his thigh. “Operation report—things came to a head today with one lone dissenter. He’s been dealt with. My uncle was the one to start the process, but I will admit I finished it. Jim Allen will not be bothering you or anyone else in the future.”

  Shit. “That sounds scarier and more final than I think you intended. He’s still breathing, yes?”

  Tucker snorted softly. “Luke made sure of that. I wasn’t as concerned.”

  Ginny sat in silence, gathering her thoughts while she examined the man before her. He was rigid with tension.

  Why now, when he’d obviously done what he’d thought was necessary?

  “I don’t like fighting,” she said, the words sharper than intended.

  “I know.” He didn’t defend himself or offer excuses. Just sat there with eyes full of sadness. As if waiting for her to…what? Chastise him? Break up with him?