The True Cowboy of Sunset Ridge (Gold Valley #14)(109)

Add in the fact that he got to work with his brothers, or take off and compete in the rodeo circuit as he saw fit, and he really did feel like he was living the dream.

And hell, he had to, right?

No one was guaranteed life.

Much less a dream. He knew well the tragedy of a life cut short. It was a different grief to the death of an older person. It changed you. That unfairness.

He’d tried to at least take some good from those changes.

“You look smug,” his brother Boone said from his position on his horse.

Five of the brothers were out, riding the range and looking for stragglers.

They had the biggest spread in Lone Rock, Oregon. Evergreen Ranch.

It had been in the family for generations, but had essentially been bare dirt until their dad had made his fortune in the rodeo, and further still as the commissioner of the Pro Rodeo Association. Now it was a thriving cattle ranch with luxury homes adding a touch of civility to the wildness of the surroundings. Courtesy of his family’s status and success as rodeo royalty. They competed together, and they worked together. They practically lived together, given that most of them had housing on the ranch.

Though the rodeo hadn’t always been a source of family togetherness.

Their sister, Callie, had nearly broken with the family over some of it, making inroads for women who wanted to ride saddle bronc, and now there was a blooming movement happening within the Association.

Chance was all for it.

Well, not as much when it concerned his little sister.

But in general.

He liked a little feminism. Who didn’t?

Right now, they were off for the season, and hanging around the ranch, which was a bit more togetherness than they often got.

Flint, Jace, Kit, Boone and himself, all together like when they were kids.

Almost.

Sophie was gone, and there was no getting her back, a pain that he’d had to figure out how to live with. Grief was funny that way. People talked about “getting over it” and he didn’t see it that way. It was just learning to live with it, learning where to carry the pain so you could still walk around breathing through it.

Then there was Buck. But his absence was his choice.

Being a prodigal in the Carson family—which was full to the brim with disreputable riffraff—was really something. But Buck had managed it.

But he was focusing on what he had, not what he didn’t.

Which was good, since tomorrow he had to head out for a few days, just to see to a meeting with a man about buying another head of cattle.

“I am smug. It’s another beautiful day in the neighborhood.”

“If Mister Rogers were a cowboy…he wouldn’t be you,” Flint said. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m not,” Chance said. “I am the cheerfulest motherfucker out there.”

“That’s not a word.”

“Your mom’s not a word,” Chance said.

“Your mom is our mom,” Flint pointed out.

“Oh well. It stands. Anyway, I’m just enjoying the day. I’m heading out tomorrow, so I won’t be around.”

“Right. More cows,” Jace said, and if he was trying to look excited about it, he was failing.

“It is what we do,” he said.

“Sure,” he said.

“You going to have time to come over to the bar tonight?” Jace asked. “Cara has some new beer she’s trying out. She was wondering if we could all come taste it.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a taste of Cara’s beer,” Kit said.

And that earned him a steely glare from Jace. Cara was Jace’s best friend, and it was not like that. And hell and damn to any man who wanted to be like that with her. Especially if he was one of Jace’s brothers. Not, Chance imagined, because Jace was jealous, just because he knew how they all were. And that was shameless and not looking for a commitment.

“And where exactly are we putting the cattle?”

“You know where,” Chance said.

“So, I was just wondering, because I was trying to figure out how long it would be before one of the Sohappy sisters was up in my face.”

“Well, Boone,” Chance said. “I think you know that Juniper and Shelby will be right at us like clock-work.”

“It’s like four feet of fence,” Boone said.

“Doesn’t matter. She thinks our great-great-granddad tricked hers into betting that land in a poker game while he was drunk and she lays into me about it every time we’re near each other. And now it’s been a fight for…oh, three generations, and our grandfather literally died mad about it.” Not that their grandfather had been the most sterling guy, but it was the principle. “And I’m not moving the damn fence. And I’m not letting her badger me into signing something over to her just because of some tall tale that’s been passed around the families.”

“Well, yeah, because it’s like four feet one way and like a mile the other,” Kit pointed out. “Plus accusations of sabotage, cattle rustling and all manner of other bullshit.”

“And I don’t care if she has her panties in a twist about it, it’s not my problem. If she wants to try and retroactively prove that her great-great-grandfather wasn’t fit to sign over the land, that’s on her, she’s welcome to do it.”