Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)(104)

“Here, here,” Ford calls and lifts his beer.

“And…we’re moving to Eden,” Davis says, pride resonating in his voice.

Hoots come from all around.

“But that’s not all.” Fallon’s voice comes out strained. “I have to tell you something, too.”

Across the yard, Wyatt stares into his beer.

“I…” For once in her life, words fail her. Fallon’s panicked eyes dart to me.

I take pity on my sister and go first.

I slip my father’s hand into mine. “I want to buy The Corner Store, Daddy. I want it to stay in the family, but I want…I want to turn it into a bakery.”

“A bakery, huh?” My father wears his surprise well, stroking a finger down one side of his mustache. His gaze drifts to Fallon. “I don’t know how Fallon feels about that.”

Fallon inhales. “Let Dakota have the store. I don’t want it.” She bites her lip and takes my father’s other hand. “I’ve been training with Pappy Starr.”

Our father’s breath hitches.

“I’m riding bulls,” Fallon says. Every muscle in her body is rigid. “I’m going to enter the PBR.”

Silence. For two straight minutes.

“Give me your blessing, Daddy. Please.” Fallon’s lower lip trembles. If there’s one thing that will get her to cry, it’s our father.

After a pause, he nods at Fallon. “I give you mine, baby girl,” he says, but I don’t miss the concern in his eyes.

“Thank you.” Two bright spots of color appear on Fallon’s cheeks. She looks at Wyatt and juts her chin out in that defiant way of hers. “Give me yours.”

The brothers swing their heads to him.

“No.” Wyatt stands and chucks his beer into the yard. Seconds later, he exits the side gate. The roar of his truck has Fallon looking down at her hands.

“Tomorrow ain’t promised, girls,” our father says, and Fallon’s head snaps up. It’s like we’re the only three people in the world when he looks at us. “You two shine as bright as you possibly can. I’ve never been more goddamn proud of you both.”

I sniffle. Fallon’s eyes glow.

It’s the strongest, strangest, most magical thing my sister and I have ever done. Telling our father the truth. Showing him our feelings. It feels like I’ve defeated a large beast that’s been holding me down for so long.

“Now…” Dad looks around the yard and grins. “We got shit to celebrate, don’t we? Babies, bakeries, bulls. Let’s put the wild in this west.”




While the crickets chirp in the night, I lift a hand to Ruby, Charlie, and Ford, who head across the gravel drive to their trucks. My father and Davis stand in Fallon’s front yard, deep in conversation. After many drinks and rounds of cornhole, the party’s breaking up.

“Stay the night,” Fallon says, exiting her front door. She smiles. “Let’s plan your baby shower.”

“Seriously?” Fallon’s the last person I expected to channel a maternal vibe.

She gives me a don’t-be-dumb look. “Yeah, seriously. You’re gonna pop in a month and we don’t have shit planned.”

“I don’t know.” I cast a glance at Davis.

A shrill ring cuts the peace of the night.

“Shit,” Davis says, abruptly breaking away from my father.

I watch him pace the yard, phone pressed to his ear.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when he bounds up the porch steps. He looks grim, and panic expands inside my chest.

His shoulders deflate. “It was Richter. A little boy’s missing over in the Briar Gorge.”

I clutch my belly. My heart hammers. “Oh no.”

“I have to go,” he says, sweeping a hand over his close-cropped hair.

I nod. “Of course. I understand.”

Frowning, he puts a big hand on my waist and scours the yard. Everyone else is already gone. “I’ll take you back to the ranch, drop you there, then head up.”

“She can stay here.” My sister slips in beside me. Davis opens his mouth, but Fallon’s faster. “Baby shower talk,” she adds obstinately. “Dakota’s gotta have one.”

Davis’s brow furrows. “I don’t like you unprotected.”

“I have knives,” Fallon sing-songs, slipping away to help our father up the porch stairs and into the house.

“Call in your tail.” I smile. “I know you still have one.”

A muscle in his jaw works. I can see him refusing to leave.

“Davis.” I palm his cheek. “It’s been months now. I want to enjoy life. Normality.”

He blows out a deep breath and pulls me closer.

I grip his shirt, looking into his worried eyes. “What if it were Squish? Go, Davis. You have to find him.”

“You don’t leave this house,” he growls.

“I won’t,” I promise.

“I love you,” he says fiercely, cupping my face in his hands. “So goddamn much.”

I kiss him, love spreading through my bones like wildfire. He gives me one last look, then, phone already to his ear, I watch his broad-shouldered form jog toward his truck. Keena follows at his heels.