Page 4 of The Cowboy and the Stray

Great, heaving sobs tore their way out of my chest, so violent they left me gasping. I curled into myself, arms wrapped around my ribs like I could hold my breaking pieces together through sheer force of will. But there was no stopping the tide now.

I cried for the girl I'd been, always running, always afraid. I cried for the woman I'd become, stumbling blindly from one bad choice to the next. And I cried for the little girl in me that still believed, despite it all, in happy endings. What an idiot.

"You're so stupid," I whispered to myself, the words hitching and catching on the razors in my throat. "So stupid for getting involved with him. Now look at you. Your life is ruined. You have nothing." Congratulations. Official rock bottom unlocked.

The truth of it was like a punch to the solar plexus, leaving me breathless and aching. I'd thought I was building a life in Vegas. Thought I was getting it right this time. But all I'd done was paint a prettier façade over the same rotting foundation. And now it had all come crumbling down, just like it always did.

My mother's face swam before me, tired and lined and desperate. Baby, she'd said, that night we left Ray. I know what it's like to love someone so much you can't see straight. But you've gotta be stronger than that. You've gotta love yourself more.

A bitter laugh scraped its way out of my chest, half sob and half snarl. She'd been right, in the end. I hadn't been strong. Hadn't loved myself enough to walk away when I first saw the signs. And now I was paying the price.

If Lance found me now, beaten and broken and alone, he'd kill me. Or worse, he'd drag me back. Back to that gilded cage with its pretty bars and poisoned air. Back to a life of fear and manipulation and carefully curated bruises. "Should've left Vegas sooner," I muttered, swiping at my salt-stained cheeks with trembling hands. Should've left the first time he raised his voice, or the second time he made me feel small, or the third time he disguised a threat as a declaration of love.

But I hadn't, and this was my penance. This long, dark night and all the ones to follow. This was my life now, as barren and brutal as the land outside the barn walls.

Great job. Nailed it.

2. CALDER

The night was hot and muggy, despite it only being May, but running always cleared my head. Especially as a wolf, muscles rippling under a dark pelt, paws gripping soil and stone. This is what I was made for.

Spring had turned the Texas Hill Country into a canvas of colors. Bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, even some lazy coneflowers dotting the slopes. But I barely noticed the wildflowers in the moonlight or the creeks running high with snowmelt. Because tonight, the whole pack ran together. The way it should be.

To my right, Eli loped along, his lean, tawny form still a bit gangly with youth. He'd grown into his paws, but not his brain. My little brother darted after every jackrabbit and ground squirrel that moved, no matter how many times I growled for him to stay with us. One day he'll listen. Today’s not that day.

On my left flank, my younger sister, Sloane, matched me stride for stride, her near-black coat hiding her in the dark.

Behind me came my right hand, Reid's heavier gallop, with Jace and Gray, pack mates and ranch hands, lining up in a perfect arrowhead. Buck, our oldest wolf and ranch hand, wove through the pack, his grizzled muzzle white with age, but his yellow eyes still bright. And nipping at all our heels was Midge. My grandmother might be pushing eighty in human years, but as a wolf, she made us all look like pups. Toughest damn woman alive.

We flew over land that had belonged to our kind and my family for generations. Land my parents died on.

Midge let out a rallying howl, and we joined her, eight voices singing to the high blue sky. At that moment, I was free. We all were.

Too bad freedom never lasts.

As soon as we loped back into the ranch yard, I knew. Something was wrong. A new scent crawled up my nose and sank its claws into my brain. Human. Female. She smelled amazing. It made my hackles rise and my blood run hot. That’s not normal. Not like this. A pulse of raw energy shot through me—hot and demanding. My wolf didn’t think. He just reacted. A surge of territorial instinct rippled beneath my skin, electric and uninvited.

Sloane must've smelled her too, because she immediately wheeled around and shot off toward the house, no doubt to check on her son. Noah. Midge was right on her tail, ears flat against her skull. Eli looked at me in confusion, but I just jerked my muzzle toward the house. He took off like his tail was on fire.

I shifted forms so fast my bones ached. "Reid. Buck. Jace. Gray. Spread out, now."

The ranch hands scattered, already shedding fur for skin and clothes. We searched the bunkhouse, the outbuildings, even the stupid goat pen. But that scent, that female, was nowhere until I reached the barn.

It hit me like a kick to the teeth. Honeysuckle and fresh hay and the sharp salt-tang of fear. I shifted back into my fur to rely better on my senses and crept into the barn, ears straining, claws out.

And there, in the back, curled up on fresh hay in an abandoned horse stall was a woman. A stray. Something inside me went rigid. Not me. My wolf pressed forward, muscles coiling, instincts flaring. He didn't care who she was. She was injured. She was ours to guard.

She was young, maybe mid-twenties, with pale skin smudged with dirt. Her coppery hair spilled over a bag that she clutched to her chest like a shield. And across her temple bloomed an ugly purple bruise. Someone hurt her. It made my blood boil.

She looked so damn fragile, cowering in a pile of fresh hay. And so damn beautiful that it locked the air in my throat. What the hell was wrong with me? She was an intruder. A threat. Keep your head straight. She's not ours.

I was about to shift and wake her up when a little whimper escaped her chapped lips. "Please," she whispered to no one. "Please don't⁠—"

My claws curled back. Shit. She was dreaming. Dreaming and terrified. Not a threat. Just scared.

I backed away, each step heavy as lead. I couldn't think in here, not with that scent flooding my nose and turning my brain to fog. Outside the barn, I nearly collided with Reid and the others.

"Well?" Reid grunted, jerking his chin toward the door. "We got nothing but the scent of a human woman. You find something?"