“Shayanne, is that you?” I ask, pulling up closer and interrupting the monologue. “It’s been ages!”
I’ve known Shayanne Tannen since she was born, hers the first diapers I ever saw getting changed back when things between our families were a little better. She’s all grown-up now, though, and her long light-brown hair streams out from under her hat.
“The one and only!” she says, throwing a hand up. “And James Bennett, as I live and breathe. I’d recognize you from being on TV even if I hadn’t grown up next to the BB Ranch. By the way, if anyone asks, you didn’t see me. I snuck out to get a ride in while the pie I cooked for dessert tonight is cooling.”
She gives a little wink but looks behind her deeper into her side of the property like she might actually be a bit nervous about being out when she’s not supposed to be. It makes me wonder just how old she is now, and that’s saying something because she looks to be no older than nineteen, maybe twenty if you fudge the numbers to one side because of healthy country living.
I look at Sophie, who’s looking like she’s got sand in her boots, and remember my manners. “Sophie, this is Shayanne Tannen,” I say, introducing the two. “Shayanne, this is Sophie Stone. Shayanne’s the annoying tomboy little sister who would tag along with us boys back when our idea of raising hell was shooting at tin cans with BB guns.”
I’m just teasing, and Shayanne seems to take it in stride, laughing. “I seem to remember beating you in a contest once. All of you, in fact.”
She conveniently leaves out that it was the one time her father let her participate. He was the one doing the aiming while she kind of just helped hold the BB gun, but I don’t remind her of that. Sophie raises an eyebrow, and I quickly hurry on. “She’s got three older brothers around the same age as my brothers and I. Sophie’s my . . . friend.”
I hesitate a little, uncertain about how to label us, but neither woman seems to notice too much. Instead, Sophie reaches over, offering her hand to Shayanne, who shakes daintily. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Same here,” Shayanne says. “So, why the ATV?”
Sophie, who knows why, interjects her own question. “Did you get the supplies?”
“Sure did,” I reply, stepping out. “Tie your horse off on the handlebars, and you can help. I grabbed a spare pair of gloves for you.”
There isn’t much in the trailer; the main reason I brought the ATV was for the post driver, a homemade contraption Pops got from his time as a ranch hand when he was younger. I pull it out and hand a set of wire cutters to Sophie as she comes over. “Go ahead and cut me four lengths of wire about five feet long. Don’t need to be perfect, just enough to cover the gap.”
Sophie nods, while Shayanne looks on sagely. “Oh yeah, I see the breaks in the line. Daddy says you can tell a lot about how good of a rancher a man is by the state of his fence. Well-kept fence, well-kept herd. Broken fence, well . . .”
She glances at the fence a bit haughtily, and I bite back what I think of what her daddy says.
“Yeah, but James said he repaired this section not too long ago,” Sophie says, grunting as she squeezes the wire cutters until a sharp metallic twingk! fills the air. “Maybe the cows got to messing with it?”
I can hear the defensiveness in Sophie’s voice, and I like that she’s on my side, even in something so minor as a critique of our fence. I say nothing, though, being a gentleman as I cut the fence free from the wire and realign it, using the post driver to quickly bury one end two feet in the ground. I wrap the remaining wire around it, fixing it while the ladies talk over me.
“So, what are you doing on the BB Ranch, Sophie?”
Sophie, who’s been attaching her lengths of wire to the strands still on the ground, doesn’t look up from her work. “Well, I’m working with Doc Jones this summer and have been coming out to check on Briarbelle after a rough delivery. But today I’m just hanging with James, tagging along while he does chores.”
Shayanne has a flirty tone to her voice as she answers Sophie. “Ooooh, that kind of ‘friend’; I see now. You know the saying, you can tell a lot about a person by the company they keep. Bennetts are good people, so you must be too. Even if Daddy’s not too happy with them right now.”
That perks my ears up. Attaching the last strand of fence, I tuck my pliers into my pocket. “Huh? Why wouldn’t he be happy with us?”
In my head, I’m thinking we’ve got a damn good reason to be pissed at him since he’s trying to take advantage of us, and I can only hope that Shayanne, who seems sweet and young, isn’t wise to her father’s shenanigans. “Well, he says he tried to help you guys out, but you just shooed him away like a pesky gnat,” she says. “He took offense. I overheard him mouthing to my brothers about it.”
She shrugs like he gets pissy on the regular. Who knows, maybe he does . . . but that doesn’t mean he’s got a right to be pissy about us not wanting to sell.
In an attempt to keep calm, I shake my head, forcing my voice to remain even. “Not exactly what happened. He came over and tried to buy the ranch from Mama when Pops was barely in the ground, and then thought maybe us boys would be pushovers and take his deal too. Just so we’re clear, my family’s not interested in selling our land.”
Shayanne holds her hands up, palms toward me in a plea for peace. “I ain’t trying to get under your hat, James. Just telling you what I heard.”
I go back to repairing the fence, noticing something a bit peculiar. At first glance, it looked like the section of wire had pulled free from the post. It happens; cows push against the wire, a twist slips, and boom . . . gap in the wire.
But looking at the section that Sophie’s been working with, I can see that it’s been clipped—cleanly. The end also has plier marks, ones that Sophie hasn’t put in yet, like someone untwisted what I did here.
There’s no reason for a stranger to undo the wire; the gap is big enough that a lost hiker can slip between the strands. And there’s only a few people who’d be out here in this back pasture, Bennetts and Tannens. I know we didn’t clip our own damn fence, so that leaves . . .
“Hey, Shayanne? You said your dad was mad and mouthing to your brothers?” I ask, wiggling the end of the wire so that Sophie can see but Shayanne can’t. She looks, raising an eyebrow as she sees the same thing I did.
Shayanne, though, is innocently oblivious. “Sure was. He was on a roll, too, not hollering, but just going on and on and on. Why?”
“Oh nothing; just thinking,” I reply. “We got a lot of acres lined up next to each other, don’t we? I’m usually checking our fences and herds out this way. Your herd pastures out here sometimes too. One of your brothers or your dad check your side?”
Shayanne nods, leaning on her saddle horn. “Usually Brody does that since he’s our animal caretaker, but they all do every now and then. Bobby and Brutal do more farm work since that’s our primary income. Hey, speaking of animals, did you know that Brody got a herd of goats?”
I’m only half listening now as she jumps from topic to topic, trying to reconcile that our fence has been cut and it’s likely one of the Tannen boys who did it.
Sophie, who’s trying to help out while also being nice, looks up. “Brutal?”
“That’s what we call him,” Shayanne says. “His real name’s Bruce, but back in high school he played nose guard for the Great Falls High defense . . . one game he knocked out three guys in a single half! After that, well—”
She dissolves into background noise again, and I go back to working on the wire. I get that maybe Paul Tannen is mad, but what good does cutting fence line do? The most he would end up doing is making a few of our herd wander over onto his land, and to what point? We’d just get them back, like we did today. They’re all tagged, so it’s not like he’d be able to steal them from us—every buyer in two hundred miles knows our brand and tag.
Maybe just ornery acting out? Could be it. For me, that usually consists of less destructive things, though.
As I dr
ift, luckily Sophie seems to be listening to Shayanne, keeping her off my back. “You know, I love goats. Maybe I can come see them sometime? Have you seen those videos of goats in pajamas and people paying to do yoga with goats jumping all over them?”
Shayanne looks aghast. “People pay for goats in clothes to jump on them? People are weird. Daddy says that’s why we stay out here where folks are normal and sane, just good old country folk. Oh, but the goats . . .”
I go back to finishing up the repair, and I want to do a bit of checking along the rest of the fence and report in to Mark for his take on the damage. Tossing my tools in the back of the trailer, I turn to Shayanne, dusting off my hands.
“Hey, Shayanne, it’s been good seeing you, but we’d better get back to chores, or we won’t make it to the dinner table on time this evening.”
Shayanne smiles brightly, nodding. “Oh I understand! I should head back in soon, too, or else the guys are going to holler about dinner not being ready tonight. Good to see you.”
Shayanne seems a little shy as she turns to Sophie and offers her hand again. “Hey . . . you really want to come see the goats sometime?”
Sophie nods, shaking Shayanne’s hand. “Absolutely. Unofficially, of course, not as Doc’s assistant. Just as a fellow goat and animal lover.”
I can see that Shayanne is beaming, excited that Sophie would visit. “Here, put my number in your phone and text me,” she says. “We’ll figure out when the boys are all gone and you can come over to see the goats. My favorite’s named Baaaar-bra—Barbara for easy’s sake.”
Sophie smiles, and pulls her phone from . . . well, I’m not quite sure. It’s a skill I think all women have, the ability to hide a phone, makeup, pencils, and other stuff on their bodies like a ninja or something. Makes me wonder why they need a purse at all. “That’s super punny. I approve.”
“And remember,” Shayanne says as she wheels her horse around, “you never saw me. I’ve been baking a pie alllll day.”
She grins and heads off at a trot, leaving me and Sophie alone. I school my face, not wanting to worry Sophie with my inner thoughts about the exact cause of the fence vandalism, and thinking a long ride sounds like a great idea. “Hey, let’s check out the fence along the property line with the Tannens’ land. It’ll probably take all day, but it’ll get us closer to the house, just in time for dinner. Hop on the back; we can ride tandem. The horses are trained to head back to the barn on their own, and Luke’ll take care of unsaddling him.”
Sophie settles in behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“So, seems like you made a new friend,” I say as we pull off.
Sophie laughs, shaking her head “Maybe. She sure can talk, but she seems like a nice girl.”
CHAPTER 15
SOPHIE
After patching the fence, I spend the rest of the day with James, riding along the fences as he tells me story after story of his adventures as a kid growing up in this idyllic place.
I laugh as he relates tales of a mini-James who was bursting at the seams to try everything, do everything, be everything. “Thankfully, my little rocket pack was put out when I splashed down in the pond . . . although getting my bike out of there was a major pain in the ass.”
There’s a touch of sadness underlying his story, one I’ve felt through a lot of his little anecdotes. For most of his childhood, he felt trapped by the small town, needing to explore and create his own destiny beyond what was preordained by his family’s land and legacy.
“So, now what? Back to the rodeo, and Mark and Luke take care of the ranch?” I ask as he wraps up a story about a Winnebago he rented last year for the tour.
I don’t mean it to be accusatory, but his shoulders tighten, and when he speaks again, I can tell he’s a little upset. “Yeah, I guess. That’s always been the plan. Maybe someday I’ll come home and settle down, but I’ve still got some crazy left in me; too young to let go of my gypsy nomad life just yet.”
I smile a little, relieved. His comment started off serious, but the end of it had a thread of laughter and irony. He’s still enjoying the rodeo, but part of me thinks he’d be just as happy riding the fences here and building a future for himself and his family.
Still, it’s not all out of him yet. “You miss the fast pace while you’re here?”
He throttles down the ATV until it’s nearly at a walking pace, thinking harder than I’d expected him to. “Yeah, it gets repetitive sometimes, but this week has been a little more exciting than usual.” He looks over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling. “Guess I have you to thank for that.”
I duck my head, smiling. “Glad to add a little crazy to your wild.”
In that moment, I think we might jump off the ATV and go at it, right here in this field in the dirt. My arms wrap tighter around his waist to explore the chiseled washboard of his abs, then run up his hardened chest. Before I can do more, though, from far away I hear Mama’s dinner bell, and the moment is broken.
James’s voice is still a little husky as he looks back. “Guess we’d better head into the house. See what Mama’s whipped up for dinner.”
Whipping? I must be in hormonal overload, because even James’s innocent comments are causing me to think about sex. “Sounds good.”
He throttles up the ATV, and we ride back to the barn. My mind’s still whirling about sex with James, and I’m half-distracted when he jumps out and starts putting the tools away. “Hey, wanna make it interesting?”
I smirk at him, thinking he did a pretty good job of making dinner interesting the other day by rubbing on my thigh. If he touches me right now, I know for damn sure we’re not leaving this barn. “Sure, what have you got in mind, Cowboy?”
“I’m thinking if I beat you inside, you’re mine to do anything I want with for the night. If you get there first, I’ll do whatever you want.”
I act like I’m considering it, before taking off at a sprint across the barn, my yelled agreement blowing behind me in the wind. “Deal!”
I hear James curse and give chase, gaining ground fast. Even with my semicheating head start, it’s a close race, but he reaches the steps before I do without question.
Pulling me close to him, he lowers his lips to brush against my ear, sending another thrill down my spine to spread through my body. “Oh, woman, you are so mine tonight. I’m thinking my fantasy about fucking you as you bend over the truck seat is a go tonight.”
He looks into my eyes as he strokes a tendril of hair that escaped my ponytail behind my ear. “I could be up for that,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice low enough that the rest of the family can’t overhear us. “If we move the truck.”
James laughs silently, nodding. “Maybe even smack that ass, since you seemed into that. I know what I’ll be thinking of all dinner . . . your curvy little ass bare in the sunset, pink with my handprint, my cock driving into your sweet pussy as you try to be quiet so we don’t get caught. Is that what you’re gonna be thinking about while you eat at Mama’s table tonight, Sophie?” he asks, and I can’t help but nod. “That’s my naughty girl.”
I reach up to his neck, pulling him down to me, but instead of the hot kiss he’s expecting, I bite at his bottom lip, near growling into his mouth as I tease him back. “Cowboy, yeah, that’s what I’ll be thinking about. You fucking me so hard I have to lift up to my toes as you grab handfuls of my ass for leverage to get in deeper. I’m gonna squeeze you so damn tight that you come before I do.”
He growls at me, reaching down and squeezing my ass as his hard cock presses against my belly. “How do you do it? I’m teasing you here, winding you up, and you turn it around on me, and somehow I’m the one going into a nice family dinner with a raging boner.”
He moves in for a kiss, but I drop back down to my flat feet, scooting away to keep the game of chase going. “C’mon, James, can’t be late for dinner or Mama will give your plate away to your brothers. You’ve got to behave properly at her table, all gentlemanlike, you know?”
James chuckles and reaches down, adjusting himself visibly. “Gentlemanlike? This better be a damn fast dinner because I need to be inside you as soon as fucking possible.”
I smirk at him, leading him by the hand to the house, giggling inside as I watch him rush to the sink before pausing to take a couple of big breaths, seemingly trying to will his dick to calm down.
Dinner is a welcome break, chatting about the day’s happenings on the ranch, even as James and I do our best to drive each other crazy with little touches here, brushes there, and maybe I do suck the spaghetti a bit suggestively when he’s looking, but, c’mon . . . it’s spaghetti. He should be lucky I don’t make him share a plate and nose a big meatball over to me.
The whole time, I know James is struggling to control himself, but he’s forgetting a little fact. Sure, the tent in his pants might be showing his arousal . . . but he’s not the only one turned on. I’m just lucky that his T-shirt is loose enough that my hard nipples aren’t showing.
About halfway through dinner, James looks over at Mark and sets his fork down. “Hey, Mark, just to let you know . . . there was a fence break out on the back pasture. A few head got through to Tannen land, but we shooed them back over, and I fixed the fence.”
“That’s good,” Mark says, not worried.
James gives me a look, and continues, “Funny thing was, the wires looked cut, definitely not from wear and tear considering I checked it myself a week ago. And the fence post wasn’t bent . . . it was like someone pulled it up instead of a cow leaning on it.”
Mark’s face immediately goes into boss mode. It’s similar to his usual demeanor, but there’s something a bit extra about him when he clicks into that mental space, assuming the mantle of command and not just big brother.
James doesn’t flinch, but to me it seems rather intimidating as Mark fires off questions at rapid-fire pace. “Which side? How big of a section? Did you really check the whole fence or half ass it, and now you’re covering up? Any proof it was the Tannens?”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 13