Steal Her Heart (Kaid Ranch Shifters #1)(4)

“What kind of predators?” he asked, his voice gritty and low.

For some reason, the gravel in his tone lifted chills on her arms. “Wolves.”

“Ain’t no wolves in these parts anymore. And we haven’t seen a single one on the Kaid Brother’s Ranch. You must be mistaken.”

“Well, if they’re coyotes, they’re mutants. They look two hundred pounds when I see them at night, they hunt as a pack, and they’re faster than any animal I’ve ever seen. Too fast for me to pull a trigger on them when I get close enough, and lord knows I’ve tried to put them down. I’m not a bad shot either, but these are something I’ve never seen.”

Just before the man ducked his gaze to the mud and blocked his face with his cowboy hat, his eyes flashed gold.

Maris gasped and took a few steps forward. “Your eyes.”

But when he lifted his face and locked his attention on her, they were regular brown. Maybe she’d imagined it, or the early morning sunlight was playing tricks on her.

“What about my eyes?” he asked, his dark eyebrows lowering under his hat.

Maris shook her head. “I thought I saw…” She didn’t even know what she thought. Gold eyes? On a man? “Never mind.”

She turned, shaking her head at how thoroughly she’d lost her damn mind and began to walk away.

“You didn’t finish our game,” he called from behind her.

She turned again. “What game?”

“A truth for a truth. I’m not Ranch Manager over at the Kaid Brother’s Ranch.”

“Okay.” Maris shrugged, walking backward. “So what are you?”

She could see the devil in that man’s slow smile. “I keep the predators away.”





Chapter Two


Maris took her seat on a set of old wooden risers, right in the center of the auction room. It was dim in here, the lights concentrated at the front of the room where Dawson Kelley was herding a pair of Angus bulls into the viewing pen. They were huge, mature animals. A pang of envy took her when the cowboy next to her lifted his paddle to bid on them. Gah, if she could afford even one of those bulls, it would’ve taken her breeding program up to the next level. What would’ve it mattered, though? Wolves would get it eventually, just like they’d been taking her cows.

Next up was a dozen beef cows, a couple of goats in between, and then onto the bigger groups. When hers came out, Marshmallow Face was leading the way, as always, mooing her little heart out.

Maris pursed her lips and pulled her brown Carhartt trucker hat lower over her eyes.

“This is an intact breeding herd and solid producers, being sold by Willow Switch Ranch. This is the biggest group we have on the docket today, mostly Angus cross, none are bred right now, but ten have calves on them. Dawson, go ahead and usher those on out and bring in the rest of them.”

Dawson could barely move in the pen because it was so full, but with some yelling and whistling and slapping on their flanks with a stick, the cows moved on out of the open gate on the other side and made room for the rest of her herd.

Maris tried to pop her knuckles, but it was just habit. Her knuckles never actually cracked. Her leg shook in quick succession, and the old cowboy next to her leaned in. “Your herd?”

She didn’t look at him because she didn’t want him to see how upset she was. Ranchers were bred tough. Poker faces were everything in this community.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s real rough what you’re having to do.”

Her voice would crack or shake if she spoke, so she nodded once for his kindness and rested her boots on the empty bench in front of her, rested her elbows on her knees, and clenched her hands together in front of her mouth.

Please let a rancher take them, not a feed lot wanting to fatten them up for butchering. They have good breeding years left. Let a rancher pick them up, please please please…

The bidding started. God, her heart was pounding so hard. Paddles raised quick all around the room.

She didn’t know why, but she glanced up to the back right corner of the auction room. Bryson Locke was standing up there, his massive shoulder leaned against the wall and his cowboy hat pulled low. He wasn’t looking at the chaos of the paddles going up as the auctioneer spoke almost too fast to understand. Instead, he was staring directly at her.

His arms were crossed over his chest, making him look even broader and more intimidating through his shoulders. A paddle with the number 1010 hung from his hand. The men standing near him were shorter by a head, at least. He didn’t blink, and he didn’t break their eye contact, just held her trapped in his gaze here in the dim lighting.

And then Bryson did something that shocked her.

He dragged his attention to the auctioneer, nodded, and lifted his paddle.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Wide-eyed, Maris scanned the room. The bids were slowing down.

“Going once…going twice…”

“Thirty,” Grant Faraday called out, lifting his paddle.

Thirty thousand for her entire herd. Shit, he was bidding high. He was a buyer for one of the biggest feed lots in the area. He would buy them, fatten them up immediately, and take them to slaughter. She didn’t want that.

She looked back up at Bryson, but he was glaring at Grant. He flicked up his paddle again. Then Grant, then him, as the auctioneer picked up energy and spoke even faster. Flick. Flick. Someone in the crowd hollered, “Get ’em boys!” and people started whistling and cheering. Flick. Flick.