Horses crashed through the brush behind him, and loud voices jerked his attention to his clan riding hard.
Ethan swung his gaze back. The wolf was gone.
He wasn’t sure if the clan quieted or pulled their horses to a stop first. Unease and anger swirled in their collective scent as they caught sight of the dead cow. They knew the cost added to the others lost.
“Fuck,” Alex muttered.
The others added curses of their own.
Only Jesse, Ethan’s second, stayed silent. He dipped the brim of his Stetson to hide his eyes.
Ethan shoved his rifle into the scabbard hanging from his saddle. His horse hitched up a hoof and gave a big sigh as he ran a hand down his splotched red and white neck.
He turned his attention back to the four men looking to him for guidance. “Don’t you fuckers have fences to mend?”
“Thought you might need help tracking,” Lorne answered quietly. “You left before breakfast.”
“Lucky. You missed this one’s walk of shame.” Alex jerked a finger in Hunter’s direction.
Hunter leaned on the saddle horn and grinned with zero shame. “Joyce wanted to get together—”
The group groaned.
Ethan shook his head. “I’ll order you not to see her again if that’s what it takes. She’s poison, man. Let her ruin someone else’s life.”
Hunter just shrugged and flashed another infuriating smile. “You’re just saying that because you’ve never been in love.”
Alex heeled his horse closer and whacked Hunter on the back of his head. “Neither have you, idiot. Nor have any of the other hundred guys she’s been with.”
A growl ripped out of Hunter and he flung himself out of the saddle and at Alex. They tumbled to the ground as their horses calmly stepped out of the way. The animals were used to it.
Hell, the true animals were the ones rolling around and throwing punches at one another.
They were a little wilder out on the ranch, and definitely not as tame as the shifters living in town. His bears needed to blow off extra steam from time to time. Like, every day. The regular brawls let them know where their place was in the pecking order. That structure helped when they were otherwise out of their minds.
Ethan scrubbed a hand through his hair. All those faces looking at him needed something. Food on the table, money in their wallets, a place to sleep. They were his clan, and he couldn’t let them down.
His sister needed him, too. The happiest day of his life had been the day Colette received her acceptance letter to her top choice university. Oh, he’d calculated the cost of room and board and tuition on the fly and barely kept his wince in check, but nothing beat seeing the proud grin on her face.
He’d thrown everything into keeping the ranch running and making sure his sister had more opportunities than he had. No matter what he did, how hard he worked, it was all unraveling. Dead cows, broken fences, fucked up bears in his clan. Nothing was right and everything he brushed against rubbed him raw.
He was responsible for them, so no use crying about it. Only thing to do was keep waking up in the morning and stuff his feet into his boots.
Ethan stepped in at the first flash of claws. He didn’t mind the fighting, but he didn’t need them mauling one another and missing out on work.
“Enough.” The word was quiet, but power infused the order. Alex and Hunter snapped backward like they’d been grabbed by their necks. Hunter let it roll right off him, but Alex glared.
Ethan met him stare for stare. Newest member of the bunch and turned by a rogue, the hothead needed extra watching sometimes. The monster under his skin pushed and poked until he received a reminder of who was in charge.
Right then, though, the biggest fire was Hunter.
“Hunter, bail money is coming out of your paycheck next time you get busted fighting whoever Joyce fucks around with behind your back. And there will be a next time, so don’t go arguing about how she’s a changed woman. Joyce comes crawling back as soon as you stop chasing, then turns her charms elsewhere when she has you snagged up again. I’m sick of it. I’m sure the cops are sick of dragging you to the station. Leave it be, buddy.”
“For all our sake’s,” Lorne muttered.
“Fuck you,” Hunter told the quiet man. He raised both hands in a one-fingered salute and grinned like a madman. “You’re all just upset because I don’t have to find some barfly to give me a pity fuck.”
Jesse snorted. “Are we talking about the same girl?”
Ethan passed his hand over his face again. “Time to get to work, children. Alex, Hunter, mount up.”
With more grumbling and elbows than necessary, the two men pulled themselves off the ground and hauled themselves back into the saddle. A sharp whistle cut the meaner comments and three of the four kicked their mounts toward the house.
Jesse stayed back. “You think it was the lion pride?”
Ethan shook his head. “Trent’s an asshole, but he’s an honest one. He wouldn’t resort to this to win.”
The entire celebration was a convoluted mess dating back to generations ago. As with all things in Bearden, one small activity to pass the time blew up into an entire ordeal. Any rancher wanting to compete had to go through a sniff test to ensure they didn’t lie about mixing bulls and cows before the approved start date. Judges coordinated an exact release date and time for the randy bulls to meet their lucky ladies, and then nature took the reins. It was sheer ridiculousness, but tradition died hard and the prize money at the end was a nice incentive.
They’d just have to hope one of the other cows was further along than she looked.
Ethan swung into the saddle. Patches sidestepped in protest, lazy bastard. He clucked his tongue and tightened his knees to keep the horse steady, then gave Jesse his orders. “Split Hunter and Alex up for the day. We don’t need them going at each other until they shift. Put Lorne and Alex on mending the fence. Maybe the labor will calm him down some. Maybe Lorne will talk some sense into him.”
Jesse pulled a face. “No calming that one, I think.”
“No calming him either if he bears out and won’t shift again. He gets closer to snapping every time I have to order him back to his human skin.” Ethan blew out a breath. Fucked up bears would be the death of him. “You take Hunter and watch the rest of the herd. I’m going to see if I can pick up any trails off the latest kill.”
Jesse nodded. They’d been close since childhood and knew each other’s moods practically before they sparked into being. “Careful out there. Wolves are watching.”
Ethan wheeled his horse around and waved Jesse off.
Dead cows and watching wolves couldn’t keep him down. He had a clan and a sister to care for, and a ranch to run. Failure wasn’t in the cards.
Chapter 3
Tansey barely saw the tiny town of Bearden as she crawled toward the outskirts behind a lifted truck. She couldn’t focus on the cute shops and budding greenery when a solid lead about her missing brother was so damned close. The unexpected curves in the road were the only thing that kept her from zipping around the big truck and speeding out of the mountains.
Ethan Ashford had been surprisingly easy to locate. The woman in the visitor’s office had brushed back curly hair, frowned about trail riding season starting up early, and shoved an address toward Tansey when her twins started to fuss.
The truck in front of her finally turned off onto a muddy trail. The slow speed on the road was quickly abandoned for a revved engine and zoom into gunk. Tansey shook her head. Country fun didn’t change, even over state lines.
Less than a mile later, her phone dinged with the notice to turn to her right. Too late, she flashed past a road and a sign. Grimacing at faulty technology, she looked for the next driveway to turn back around.
The twenty-minute delay made her antsy, but not as much as staring down the sign at the edge of the road. Words burned into wood named the place as Black Claw Ranch. Carved underneath in uneven lines—maybe b
y one of the shifters themselves—were three claw marks.
For a quick beat, she regretted coming on her own. She employed Viho precisely because he had an animal nature and claimed he could track down any shifter. He was the tough one.
Not that she couldn’t hold her own, but they were, well, shifters! Strong and deadly, with fangs and claws and muscles she didn’t possess. Even the name of the place described their natural weapons.
Maybe it a test of her conviction. She didn’t know or care. She had her heart set on finding her brother, and Ethan Ashford held the key.
Tansey passed her fingers over the cold barrel of the pistol jammed between the door and her seat. Bless the hateful little hearts of the gun store employees for carrying silver bullets so close to shifter territory. She personally didn’t have anything against the supernatural community. Hell, her brother willingly got himself bit to become one! But she was a modern woman, and precaution had been socialized into her from a young age.
Her car bounced over the cattle grate and crawled up the dirt road, shaking with every bump and tire track and rock she hit. Even mostly out of the mountains, the landscape was more hill than flat sprawl of the Midwest.
Finally, she rounded a bend. A big house sat on the top of a hill. Two stories, with at least two overhanging decks she could see, and a spacious porch with wooden columns, it looked like an oversized, luxurious log cabin.
More than enough room to hide her brother.
A little further off was another big, unpainted building with wide double doors thrown open. A handful of horses grazed inside a fenced area. Two lifted their heads and whickered when Tansey pulled to a stop next to a silver pickup and stepped out of her much older vehicle.
The first thing she noticed was the air. The fresh crispness of early spring mingled with the strong scent of honest work. Horses, cows, and hay overlapped in a pleasant way. Much better than the musty scent of stale beer and leather she’d grown to expect whenever the Vagabonds stopped at a bar. Infinitely more enjoyable than the harsh odor of trash and gas that built up in a city.
The second thing she noticed was a hunk of a man easily hauling a bale of hay out of the barn and tossing it into the open back of a truck.
Hello, cowboy.
If she’d been a cartoon character, her tongue would have rolled out of her mouth and onto the ground like a carpet.
Dark jeans clung to his legs, with worn spots on the insides of his thighs, his knees, and his ass. Sweat glistened on his skin, which was a delicious tan that just couldn’t be replicated by any salon bed. A smattering of tattoos covered his shoulders and upper back in a tasteful display that was just the right amount of badass and take-him-home-to-mother. All six feet and several inches were packed with hard muscle. She tried counting the stacks of his abs and forgot what number came after six.
Then he caught sight of her, and she thought she’d swoon.
His eyes were shaded by his cowboy hat, but she didn’t miss the strong jaw covered in stubble. One half of his mouth hitched up in a sexy smirk. “Can I help you?”
Yep, she was going to melt into a puddle. Of course he had a deep voice perfectly designed for dirty murmurings in the middle of the night.
“I’m looking for Ethan Ashford.”
His eyes roved down her body and his smile widened when he reached her face again. “I’m Ethan. You are...?”
This was it. She just needed to ignore the smile that launched a thousand dirty thoughts. Too bad the impossibly sexy man was the one who last saw Rye, and maybe still had him locked up somewhere.
She’d tried to imagine how the conversation would go when she found Rye again, and then what she would say to anyone who had anything to do with his disappearance. Nothing ever jumped out as the right words. Too many variables dropped in and out of place to form a game plan.
“I’m Tansey. Tansey Nichols,” she said, with an emphasis on her last name. Ethan didn’t show any reaction, so she went on. “I was told you might know what happened to my brother.”
Rye was the goal, not ogling some handsome cowboy and wishing to jump his bones. What were those obnoxious window clings she’d seen on trucks? Save a horse, ride a cowboy.
Another time, maybe. If she drank away her inhibitions. A man looking like that had no use for someone plain like herself. He could have the pick of the tourists, and the locals, too.
His eyebrows shot together and he adjusted his hat. “Come again?”
“My brother. Someone saw him with you. He’s been missing for a month.” She swallowed her words and her desperation.
“Look, lady. Tansey. I don’t know who you’re talking about—”
“Rylan Nichols, goes by Rye.”
“Can’t help you. Never met a Rye or a Rylan.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry he’s disappeared on you.”
“He didn’t disappear. He’s missing. One would be his fault, the other is on someone else,” she snapped.
Ethan blew out a long breath and pressed his lips together in a hard line. “Okay,” he said in a patient tone. “Why do you think I know your brother?”
They were going around in circles. That didn’t win Ethan any points, and just made him look guilty. “The man I hired to track Rye down told me,” she answered in what she called her customer service voice. It was used solely for unreasonable people. “He said Rye met with you, and no one has seen him since. So I’m asking you again, where is my brother?”
“Oh yeah? And who would that man be?”
“I hired Viho Valdana to track Rye—”
“The Valdana pack?” His whistle plummeted with all her hope. “Fuckin’ A, woman. Do you have any idea the trouble you’re in?”
“I know they tracked him here—to you. I know you’re hiding something. Tell me what happened to Rye.” She wasn’t about to let him twist her into a different conversation.
“And you trust them? How did a pretty girl like you get tied up with them anyway?” His expression darkened and a muscle jumped along his jaw. “You one of them wolf hounds?”
The derision in his voice left no doubt what he meant. Tansey bristled. “No,” she spat. “I’m not sleeping with any of them. Not that it’s any of your concern. They’re helping me find my brother—”
“You said that already. Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”
“How would you know? Did he tell you that himself?”
Ethan growled, and she hated how much she liked the noise. She could almost imagine feeling it vibrate through her.
“Don’t know him, never met him. Tell Viho to stay the fuck off my land when you go crawling back to him. Have a nice life, Miss Nichols.”
His words washed away the brief flush of desire. Tansey resisted the urge to stomp her foot. She just wanted to go back to the way things were a month ago. She knew where Rye was, knew what she’d be doing in the morning, knew where she’d go to bed at night. It wasn’t a glamorous life, but it was an easy one.
The safe familiarity had been replaced by Viho’s lack of respect, potentially no loyalty or trust from her brother, and a mouthy cowboy shredding all her plans to set her world right again.
With a final tip of his hat that felt like a slap in the face, Ethan turned back toward the barn.
A month of zero leads, worry, and frustration boiled over into hazy anger. He did not get to walk away from her!
Tansey reached inside the door of her car and then took careful aim. Her thumb brushed back the hammer.
“You’re going to tell me where Rye is. Now.”
Chapter 4
Ethan ignored the growling protest from his bear. The spitfire behind him had the beast quiet as she asked her questions, then raging when Ethan got sick of the accusations. Any other time or place, and he’d have bought her a drink and tumbled her against the nearest flat surface to make her come again and again. Something told him she’d be fun company for a night.
Accusing him of what, kidnapping? Murder? That killed his mood, if not his bear�
��s. And she was tied up with Viho Valdana. Fucking asshole, and his Vagabonds were no better. That woman would be chewed up and spat out in no time at all.
Ethan couldn’t ignore the cock of a gun.
The sound was loud over the beat of her heart and the steps of the horses in the paddock. The sharp crack stretched into eternity and echoed the word danger back to him.
Ethan froze. He lifted his hands slowly into the air. He eased his foot to the side and twisted his body to find Tansey pointing a tiny pistol straight at his head.
“Put the gun down and we’ll talk,” he said in a calm, soothing voice.
She settled further into her stance. Her arms didn’t waver. “How about we talk now? Where is my brother?”
“You’re going to get someone hurt. Do you even know how to shoot that thing?”
Tansey’s eyes narrowed. It was the only warning he had before she jerked the gun to the side and fired off a round two inches from his boot.
“Motherfucker,” Ethan growled. His ears rang painfully, and he expected his bear to try ripping out of his skin. He braced himself against the threat, and when it never materialized, he sprang into action.
Tansey opened her mouth—no doubt to make more demands—then screeched as he grabbed hold of a wrist. A quick step put him behind her and his arm locked her against him.
His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as her body molded to his. How the fuck did she fit perfectly against him? She smelled like honey and freshly baked pie. Even her long, brown hair was softer than silk. All his blood rushed straight to his dick while his skin felt tight and on fire.
Mine.
His thought, his bear’s sending, didn’t matter. Tansey Nichols was right where she belonged.
First, that gun had to go.
Ethan snapped into motion and pried her fingers from around the handle. He whipped it away from them both, pushed the release button, and let the magazine fall to the ground.
Better that than blowing out both their eardrums as he fired off all the rounds. One shot would have the clan running to check in with him. Multiples would have them running and ready to tear into anyone unfamiliar. He couldn’t let them maul Tansey in a fit of misplaced protection. She might have shot at him, but he didn’t want her dead.
Wrangled Fate: Book One: Black Claw Ranch Page 2