Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders #15)(54)

But afterward, when he held her, the words came. Sweet words sometimes. Raunchy words others. Words that were a near confession and scared her as much as thrilled her.


Like now.


“You’re mine, jungle girl,” he whispered against her throat. “Only mine. I’m never walking away from you again.” He sealed his mouth to hers, preventing a response.


But Rory didn’t know what to say anyway. The more she held back, the more determined he became to hold onto her.


Dalton gradually broke the kiss. “It’s early yet and I just…needed you.”


Not wanted. Needed. She’d begun to understand the differences in those two words.


“Go back to sleep. I’ll make coffee and let Jingle out.”


After he left Rory’s place on Wednesday morning, Dalton eyed the No Hunting signs hanging from the barbed wire fence on either side of the gate as he fiddled with the lock. Despite the rust and grime from constant Wyoming wind, the paddle lock opened easily. He unwound the four feet of chain and tossed it in the back of his truck.


After he pulled through, he pushed the gate shut. An open gate was an open invitation. Especially if the gate had remained closed the last three years. He needed time to sketch out his plans and he wasn’t in the mood to explain them to his brothers or anyone else who might happen by.


In his truck he spread out the oversized copy of the land plat. Four years ago they’d bought two parcels of land totaling five hundred acres from neighbors whose marriage had hit the skids. Initially he and his brothers had intended to use the acres closest to the McKay ranch to run more cattle. Since a house and barn had been included with the property, Tell and Georgia had asked if they could move into it.


At the time, Dalton hadn’t minded living in a trailer. But it had bugged him that he’d fronted every penny for the land purchase and it was just expected that all five hundred acres would be absorbed into the McKay ranching operation. He wouldn’t have anything to show for all the money he’d put into it except joint ownership—split three ways.



So Dalton had consulted his cousin Gavin—beings he was a real estate guru—and Gavin suggested Dalton not give the entire section in a gesture of family largess, but personally retain a portion of the acreage, specifically the acreage that bordered Gavin’s land.


Dalton had agreed even though it dragged out the official paperwork an additional two months. By then, he’d started dating Addie and his brothers assumed that he’d build a house on that section for his wife-to-be. Strange to think he hadn’t even considered that option.


Once Brandt and Tell had taken possession of three hundred acres with creek access, they didn’t ask what Dalton intended to do with his section, since it was less conducive to running cattle. And during the years Dalton was gone, they’d never asked permission to do anything with the land—neither had Gavin.


And now Dalton knew exactly what he’d do with it.


Two hundred acres wasn’t much, but in this situation it’d be ideal because the elk herd could easily be contained by a combination of fencing and natural barriers. Much as ranchers lamented the lack of water in high plains desert, this was one instance where the lack of water would be a benefit. Hauling water meant he controlled placement of the tanks. It also meant animals wouldn’t wander off in search of water because they’d know exactly where to find it.


Putting his truck in drive, he followed the tire tracks downhill, stopping every once in a while to mark off where the sections of fence would need to be higher.


The topography was a mix of rolling hills and deep crevasses. He’d have to get out at some point and study the raised ridge. But for now he stopped to add notes to his crude drawings and returned to inching across the landscape.


After traveling the last three years and living in the mountains for over a year of that, he’d forgotten the sparsity of the area. Several clumps of trees grew at the lowest points of the draws, providing more diversity in vegetation than he’d remembered. Also a point in his favor for an elk habitat.


Dalton spent hours traversing the land, checking the condition of the fences and possible problem access points. When he finished he understood how labor-intensive this project would be—work he’d be one hundred percent responsible for. But what else was he supposed to do with his time? Hang out in the hospital? No way. Or tag along opening fences for his brothers as they did chores? No way on that, either. He didn’t have a burning desire to raise elk, but he did have a burning desire to convince Rory they were meant to be. That meant living here.


He flipped through the pages of regulations. No new surprises—he’d studied up on other states rules. There wasn’t a huge difference between Montana stipulations and the proposed regulations in Wyoming.


As he headed back, he tried to take in anything he might’ve missed on the first pass. At the gate he installed the new paddle lock with the heavier, shorter chain and locked it up.


On the drive back into Sundance, his thoughts strayed to Rory. Sweet, sexy, funny insatiable Rory. They’d burned the sheets up and then some the last five days. As much as he loved that her desire, need, passion and obsession almost matched his, he realized he needed to slow things down. He had to show her this relationship was so much more than just hot sex.