Page 1 of For Her


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Chapter 1

CASSIDY

Everything was silent.

New.

Fresh. And as still as if something was right around the corner, hiding the fright that only might occur from chaos unknown.

In that moment—just before the rooster’s crow had broken the silence, and right before the sun’s rays peeked over the mountains to cast that all-too-familiar pink glow on the ridges of the Rockies—everything was absolutely frozen. Even the smallest creature held its breath, basking in that minute pause that the world took. As if the Earth stopped spinning on her axis for half a second.

And it was always this final moment when there was no pandemonium, not a single requirement in the books for me, that gave me a sense of peace. The hands weren’t out of their bunkhouses, and Weston wasn’t up and going. Which was a relief because that meant he wasn’t either taking his nerves out on me or turning back into that grump of a man because Tenley wasn’t letting him take care of her how he wanted to right now.

I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the familiar fresh air of early morning as the first rays danced over the horizon. It was going to be a hot one today; I could already feel the blistering warmth dancing thick around me. My body was sticky even as I was perched upon a wooden fence rail in the shade.

Then I heard it.

The first crunch of gravel beneath a pair of leather soles. Glancing to my left, I lifted the corner of my lips into a smirk as Weston came sauntering toward me, a frown etched onto his face.

“So, the wifey didn’t let you do something this morning again, I assume?” I called out, and Weston lifted his chin, rolling his eyes beneath that all-too-familiar cowboy hat.

“Apparently, it doesn’t matter that she’s due pretty much any day now, she’s still refusing to go on maternity leave. Her reason: The new vet that they hired still needs some training—”

“But you disagree,” I finished for him, and he hoisted himself up on the rail beside me.

“Obviously,” he grumbled, rolling one sleeve of his shirt up. “So, we’ve gotta push the cattle up to summer pasture in a few days. Is everything prepped?”

“Yep,” I casually answered, ignoring the abrupt change of topic, and brushed a hand along the back of my neck. It was already wet from sweat beneath my own cowboy hat, which shaded my eyes from the rising sun.

“You sending someone up to camp early to prep food?”

“Weston, you need to relax. I already got it all taken care of. Why not go find your wife and bug her about something instead of me?” I lifted a brow as his scowl deepened.

“She’s getting ready to head down to the clinic,” he mumbled under his breath.

“So? Go with her. I’ve got it here.”

“How about I go finish the porch on your house?”

I rolled my eyes and jumped down from the rail, my spurs ringing out. “I was planning on doing that today.”

“Cassidy—” But he immediately stopped talking as both of our eyes were drawn to an unfamiliar truck and trailer crunching over the dirt road up the drive.

“Did you have someone coming out today?” I asked, keeping my gaze locked on the beat-up, tan Chevy and the rusty horse trailer that could use some WD-40 and new tires.

“No,” Weston answered, plopping down beside me.

“I didn’t hear anyone talkin’ yesterday about new folks comin’ through town,” I muttered. We stood still as the truck pulled in next to our row of vehicles beside the main house and stopped. The vehicle idled, the driver not exiting, and whoever it was, was blurred behind glass that had the purple tint peeling from the window.

“There’s been no rumors down at the diner either,” Weston added, distracted. A few animals chattered as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

I furrowed my brows, tucking the hat tighter over my forehead as a solid clang of something bashing against metal rang out. The trailer rattled, swaying from whatever force slammed into the siding from the inside.

“What was that?” I said.

Weston stuffed his hands in his pockets but didn’t answer as the hitch rattled. Whatever bashed against the trailer before, pounded against the metal frame again. Finally, movement stirred within the truck, and the driver's door popped open. Whoever was in there dropped to the ground, hidden from view on the opposite side of the vehicle.

Everything fell still, the normal chatter that filled the morning air—cows bellowing back and forth—remained quiet as Weston and I tracked the tall, slim figure walking around the front of the truck. I couldn’t keep the shock from pulling my eyes wide as a woman, more cowgirl than I’d ever seen in my life, walked with deliberate intention directly toward the two of us.

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