She rubbed the neck of her old pinto, and he whipped his hair back like the ladies’ man he was. “Thanks. My dad gave him to me. His name’s Cherokee. He was my first rodeo horse—had him since I was sixteen.”
Hunter called over her to his dad. “She calls him Cher Bear—drives her brothers nuts.”
Tom arched a brow.
She grinned. “Maybe that’s the point.”
Tom chuckled. “Are your parents back in North Carolina?”
“They’re both deceased.” Zoey paused. Saying something like that was big for people to hear, and losing Dad was still fresh in her heart. With time, she’d gotten her feet on level ground again after Mom passed, but Dad’s death had planted a feeling that the world would never be quite the same. They say you’re never too old to feel orphaned, and she believed them. Once Tom had a second to process the info, she plunged ahead. “My mom died four years ago, and my dad almost two years ago. Dad never was really the same after my mom died.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Tom said. He had soft gray eyes that held so much empathy, Zoey believed him. Some people said those words because they were expected; some said them because they didn’t know what else to say. But when Tom said them, she had the feeling that he would have sat beside her and cried through the night. He was an interesting man—all tough cowboy exterior. She wouldn’t say he was a teddy bear on the inside. The phrase “a good man” came to mind.
Hunter moved his stallion a little closer, brushing his leg past hers. He kept his eyes on the trail ahead, but she knew the move was an intentional one. A way of silently offering comfort.
“Thank you. I still have my brothers, so it’s not all bad.”
“We are awful fond of Brandon,” Carrie said.
She grinned outright at that, feeling proud that Brandon was her brother for the millionth time. “He’s not so bad, I guess.”
Both Tom and Hunter chuckled. Carrie gave her a soft smile—understanding that her offhanded manner hid so many deep-rooted feelings for her brothers.
Zoey gave a little nod out to the land in front of them. “It’s so beautiful here.”
“We’re inclined to agree,” Hunter said, tipping his hat down. She thought he was trying to cover a little smile.
“We’re real lucky that your brother bought his property from the Wards. Aside from being a good neighbor, he has no problem with us grazing here. Between his property and ours, it keeps the land off the radar from buyers,” Tom said. “We were worried for a while when those investors of Alex Young’s were trying to buy up all the riverfront property on the other side of the highway, that they’d come after this land too. Right now we have grazing rights, but if a developer ever got a hold of it, we wouldn’t be able to keep our herd up here, and I don’t know what we’d do.”
“You depend on this land that much?” Zoey hadn’t remembered to call about the land yet, but when she did, grazing rights were something she’d have to discuss with them and the Westbrooks.
“The current owner rents us access. It’s not likely a new owner would allow that,” Hunter said. “We’d have to sell most of the herd off if that happened.”
Zoey sat taller in her saddle, a chill going up her spine. “That’s—” She needed to tread carefully. “—a sobering thought.”
“We’ve been lucky.” Hunter clenched his jaw.
Lucky? Hunter wasn’t the type to bank on luck. There was no way he could be okay with that arrangement. They could lose everything if the wrong buyer came in. But if Zoey bought it, she could secure what they needed, with plenty of room for orchards. She could help them along with herself and her brothers. It’d be a win-win-win.
That was it. She was buying this land. Whatever she had to do, she was buying it.
In the distance, the herd started to come into view, and Zoey sucked in a breath. She’d never seen anything like this before. Of course, she’d been to ranches in the past, but this was different. No fences. Wide, open terrain. No rules. Freedom at its best. The Wild West in Virginia. It called to her wild spirit.
Hunter rode in close again, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles, before pulling back. She shivered, seeing Hunter in a whole new light. He wasn’t just a cowboy in the arena; he was one in real life. The whole package. He was tied to the land and the herd and the work in every aspect.
And she wanted to be a part of it.
They spent the next few hours gathering up the herd and heading them back toward the farm. With so many people, they were able to send groups out to find and bring in the strays. Some cows were predictable—others were just plain batty. Zoey got to use her roping skills outside of the arena for the first time. Chasing a steer that zigzagged around trees and bushes was a whole new, thrilling experience.
The group teased, laughed, and worked really hard. Harder than she’d ever done in her life.
Grudgingly, she admitted Brandon could have been a smidgen right when he’d said she didn’t know the same kind of hard work that the Westbrooks dealt with on a daily basis. She was bone tired and even a little saddle sore. But she’d learned what she was really made of. The roundup was one of the most fun and rewarding days she’d had since graduating college. It’d challenged her in an entirely different way, and she’d soaked up every moment of it.
Swayzie rode up while they were preparing to head back, approaching Tom. “Did you see all the grass on the far side of those hills?”
Lucky came up next to her. “There’s still good pasture over toward the river, too.” He sat taller in the saddle, placed his hands at the base of his back, and arched to stretch. If anyone had an excuse to back out of hours on a horse, it was Lucky. He didn’t seem to be slowing down, though. The grit that’d help him rise to the top of the rodeo world worked well out here.
Tom nodded. “What are we thinking?” He glanced toward the herd.
