Rebel Cowboy (Big Sky Cowboys, #1)
by Nicole Helm
For Maisey, who said, “Why not cowboys?”
Chapter 1
Mel Shaw reined in her horse at the crest of the familiar path that wound its way around the Shaw ranch.
She’d ridden this trail her entire life. On her eighteenth birthday, she’d ridden it with her father. On this very spot he’d told her, someday, what lay below would be hers. It had all been very Lion King, and in that moment, an amazing gift. This awe-inspiring tract of land in the shadow of barely snow-peaked mountains would someday be entrusted to her.
Someday had turned out to mean five years, almost to the day, when a freak accident had put her in charge…of a barely surviving ranch, a delinquent brother determined to burn every Shaw bridge, an injured and withdrawn father, thousands of dollars in medical bills, and livestock that needed to be cared for and tended daily.
These days it felt more like a noose than a gift. But it was a noose she loved.
Mel took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and squinting into the blue sky. All this was for nothing. She wasn’t giving up leadership here for very long—three months at most. And Caleb…Caleb could handle this.
Maybe if she repeated that to herself enough, she’d actually believe it. Her younger brother had gotten his act together in the past few years. When they thought Dad would die, he’d changed. She could trust him to take the reins now.
Regardless, she didn’t have a choice. The Shaw ranch stretched before her, like her heart laid out on display along the edge of Blue Valley, Montana. Every barn, work building, even the old house, was looking weary in the early summer morning light. Spring had not been kind.
The years had not been kind.
But she would turn them around. Some idiot hockey player wanting to drop twenty grand on a consultant was just the financial stopgap she needed to get things really going again. They could start to rebuild some of those partnerships that debt, and Caleb, had compromised, to rebuild the cattle herd that had diminished to next to nothing. They could be Shaw again.
The clopping sound of another horse on the trail behind her interrupted the quiet. She didn’t bother turning around—it could only be one person.
“It’ll be okay.”
“I know.” She’d gotten a lot better at lying to Caleb since Dad’s accident. Everything will be okay. I’m not even tired. Who needs a foreman?
“I won’t disappoint you.”
“I know that too.” She offered him a smile as he brought his horse to a stop next to hers. He looked impossibly young to her, even though she was only two years older. Before the accident, Dad had always joked she’d been born older, like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life. Apparently destined to be on the hook for a failing business.
Only she didn’t have hero Harry to rescue her. She had a brother who’d alienated everyone in town, finishing the job Mom had started before she abandoned them twenty-some years ago.
Mel swore she could feel the noose tightening, making it harder to breathe. Harder to lie. She tried to shake it off—all the memories, all the doubts, all the responsibilities piling up against her.
She was taking the reins, taking this summer job away from the ranch. She was going to save them. She was, and Caleb was going to help. He’d found a constructive way to deal with whatever demons had plagued him. Demons she’d never understood—demons he’d never let her understand.
She had to believe in him. Trust him. Unclench a little.
Ha.
“Will you get me his autograph?”
“Sure.” She paused for effect, then gave Caleb her best big-sister glare. “On my paycheck.”
Caleb laughed. “Had to ask.” He cleared his throat, staring hard at the ranch below. “I know I’ve said it before—”
“Then don’t say it again. The situation is what it is. I’m done with apologies. All that matters is we’re doing what’s best for Shaw.” That’s all that would ever matter.
“What about what’s best for you?”
She clicked her tongue, turning the horse around so she could head back to the main house. “Shaw is me, Caleb.” The thing she could count on no matter what. Each peak in the distance, each slightly leaning building, every blade of grass that came back year after year. It was her center, her core. It was her; she was it. Always.
Everyone around her might let her down, but this place couldn’t.
*
Dan Sharpe rolled off the most uncomfortable mattress he could remember ever spending a night on. The twinge in his back as he stood reminded him of the indisputable fact that he was getting old.
Thirty-five meant he was no longer the young phenom on his team.
The sad fact of the matter was, his teammates looked at him like he was as old as his famous father.