Shared By the Cowboys by Cassie Cole

40

Rebecca

I ran down the porch and mounted Wildfire.

“Wait!” Terry shouted as she chased after me. “Hold on, Rebecca.”

“Why did you tell them?” I demanded. “You ruined everything!”

She stopped on the top of the porch and scoffed. “I’m your agent. It’s my job to make your life easier—which I thought I was doing. I thought you told them. You lied to me. If you had only told me the truth…”

I couldn’t handle just how right she was, that this was all my fault for lying to everyone. I tugged on the reins to steer Wildfire away, then we galloped away from the house.

The freezing wind stung my face as we raced across the snow-covered land. I kept hearing Terry’s voice, and Mason’s betrayed accusation. Blake’s angry stare tormented my mind. I needed to make it all stop. I longed for the peace of the forest, like when I was riding with Mason and Cody.

I turned Wildfire east toward the mountains. We rode through the gate, then up into the rising terrain of the foothills, then the alpine forest.

As I slowed Wildfire to a walk, I immediately felt calmer. It was silent here. The only sound was hooves crunching in snow.

My tears began flowing.

I had screwed everything up. I had ruined a chance with three amazing guys. And I had probably destroyed my professional relationship with Terry, too.

And it was all my fault.

We rode through the forest for a while. The tears froze against my cheek, leaving my face cold. I wiped away the ice and then cried some more, pitiful little gasping cries that I was glad nobody could hear.

When we were deep in the woods, my walkie-talkie chirped. “Becca. Come back,” Cody said.

I heard Mason in the background. “Let her go. If she’d rather run from us than tell us the truth, so be it.”

Angry with myself, I yanked the walkie-talkie off my hip and hurled it into the woods. It clattered off a tree trunk and landed in the snow.

I never should have lied. Not to the guys, and not to Terry. It was obvious in retrospect, like most big mistakes. There were a million things I wished I could do over. But above all else, I felt stupid for thinking I could get away with it.

I dismounted, tied Wildfire to a low-hanging branch, and then sat on a downed tree. “How could I be so stupid?” I asked Wildfire.

The horse ignored me.

This ranch felt like home, now. More than my family ranch had ever felt, or my big, empty condo in Great Falls. This place was full of life and love and excitement. I had only just gotten here. I didn’t want to leave.

I remembered the last time I had been caught in a lie. My parents were gone and I went into their closet to try on mom’s dresses. I was a teenager, so I finally had a figure that could wear an adult dress. But my hips were a little wider than mom’s, and her favorite bumblebee-yellow dress tore when I tried to remove it.

I was afraid to tell her the truth, so I threw the dress in the trash can and hoped nobody would notice. But of course dad found it the next time he took out the trash. He brought it inside and asked what happened.

Being a stupid teenager, I dug the hole deeper. I made up a story about a dress inspector who came by the house to look at her clothes. It was a ridiculous lie, something only a child would believe, but the lie came quickly because it was easier than the truth.

My parents picked apart the lie piece by piece. What was the dress inspector’s name? Why did I let him inside? Why did he disapprove of the dress enough to throw it away? Finally they stopped toying with me and insisted I tell them the truth. And when I did, I felt relieved that I no longer had to lie.

That’s how I felt now. Part of me was relieved that the truth was out there, that the guys knew my real reason for taking the ranch hand job. There was freedom in no longer needing to lie. Falsehoods were like chains, tying you down and enslaving you to a story.

I took a cold, shuddering breath. “Now what?” I asked Wildfire.

The horse gazed around the forest.

I would probably go back to my old life. Leave the ranch, return to Great Falls, and finish my book. Or at least, finish a book, since the guys wouldn’t approve this one.

And even if they did sign the waiver, allowing it to be published? I wasn’t sure I wanted to. It felt wrong to finish the book now, like it was tainted. If the book sold well, I would go on book tours and give interviews. It would remind me of Cassidy Ranch, and how I had something unique and wonderful before screwing it all up.

I didn’t think I could do that.

Wildfire tossed his head, nostrils flaring. “I know, you hate standing around. We’ll ride back in a minute. I just need to collect myself.”

I would have to apologize to Terry. Maybe I could mend that relationship if I explained to her why I had lied. Now that the heat of the moment was over, I wasn’t even mad at her for showing up here at the ranch. She was doing her job. Trying to take care of all the drama surrounding a book so I could focus on what I did best: writing. That’s what I paid her for, after all.

Wildfire twisted against the rope and tugged on the branch he was tied to, sending a snow drift falling to the ground.

“You’re going to get tangled,” I said, rising from the log. “Calm down, we’ll go…”

That’s when I saw the wolf.