Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)(95)

Charlie glares at him. “Help me or get your ass out of here.”

“You do it like this,” Wyatt grouses and jerks the string of lights away from Charlie.

I roll my eyes, letting my brothers argue.

Wanting to give one last look over the ranch, I walk away, pass Dakota in the kitchen, and exit the front door. Bright May sunlight filters through the clouds. Crybaby Falls will soon receive the melt-off from the snow-dusted peaks of Meadow Mountain. Already, it’s unreasonably warm. If it keeps up at this pace, it’ll be boiling by the time June rolls around.

In three weeks, the first batch of guests will arrive.

Runaway Ranch is ready.

Still, there’s a nagging feeling in my gut as I scan the ranch.

But there’s nothing. It eats at me and I don’t know why.

The familiar rumble of Fallon’s engine catches my ear. She circles her old Chevy around the parking lot, lets it sputter to a stop, and hops out.

I sigh. One more woman I have to wrangle.

“Need an extra hand?” I ask, coming to a stop beside her truck.

She shakes her head, plucks a purple-wrapped present from the passenger side seat. “I got it.”

“Where’s Stede?”

“Cattle drive in Bixby. He finally feels good enough after chemo, so he couldn’t pass up this chance. He sends his regrets.”

“Can’t keep him down.”

“No, you can’t.” Pride shines in her hazel eyes. “Not my daddy.”

Hefting the package on her hip, she takes a step toward the lodge, but I put a hand out, stopping her. “Listen, I want to talk to you about something.”

She sighs. Shields her eyes against the sun as she looks up at me. “Let me guess. Dakota squealed.”

“You’re riding bulls, Fallon. Why?”

“Ugh, don’t go all overprotective-old-school-cowboy on me,” she says testily.

“It’s not safe,” I tell her gruffly. “If my brother were doing it, I’d sit him down, too.”

Her nervous gaze flicks to the lodge. “This doesn’t involve you, Davis. Or Wyatt.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It involves me.” I nod her way. “You’re Dakota’s little sister. I promised your father I’d look out for you, and I intend to do that. No matter how much you want to fuss and fight.”

She stares off into the distance, caramel hair whipped by the wind, expression unreadable. “And what about Dakota?”

“What?”

“What about my sister?” she demands. “She’s pregnant. She’s staying in Resurrection. What are you doing with her?”

I scowl, wondering when she turned the interrogation tables on me. “I’d prefer to talk about you,” I mutter, gripping the back of my neck.

The explanation’s simple. I love Dakota. Always have. There will never be another, and loving her is as natural as breathing. She’s everything.

But Fallon isn’t waiting for my answer. She jabs a nail into my chest, staring coolly back at me. “You hurt her, and I run my truck through your lodge.” She shrugs. “It’s already red, so your blood won’t make a difference.”

I fight the smile ghosting my lips. “Is it you or me giving the lecture?”

“Screw my daddy liking you. I like you. So, you might as well buy the ring.”

“Already got it.”

Her eyes widen, and she gnaws on her bottom lip like she’s considering whether to believe me. “Show me.”

My stomach in knots, I pull the ring out of my pocket. A round diamond solitaire with tiny diamonds on the side. I bought it yesterday in Bozeman with Ford along as moral support.

“What do you think?” Though my voice stays steady, a nervousness I’ve never felt before courses through my veins. But it’s not at the thought of asking Dakota to marry me. It’s at the thought of her becoming my wife.

Fallon’s silent for a long beat, but a smile tips her lips. “It’s not big enough. But…she’ll love it.”

I rough a hand over my hair, go on. “I love Dakota. I’ve loved her the last six years and haven’t stopped. I don’t need time. I don’t want to date her. I want to marry her and make her son mine.”

“Well,” Fallon sniffs. A bright sheen coats her eyes. “I guess you’re all kind of chivalrous, aren’t you?”

I chuckle, shake my head. “I want to be good with you, Fallon. Because you’re family. You will be family.”

A long silence falls, and we stare out at the ranch. Across the sky, a golden eagle soars through cotton ball clouds.

“I’m riding because I want to, Davis,” Fallon says, breaking the quiet. Her face is angled toward the sun, away from me. “I want to be as good as Stede. I want to get out of Resurrection.”

I nod, thinking of what Dakota told me about Fallon’s broken dreams. Battered and bruised isn’t enough to scare Fallon away from what she wants. I can’t stop her. Or the yearning in her eyes. Fallon’s a raging river that no man can divert.

I close the space between us and curl my hands around her shoulders. Surprise creases her face as I turn her toward me. “Let me break it down for you, Fallon. There’s simply only so much time until you’re hurt. No matter how good you think you can ride. It’s inevitable.” I look her in the eyes and say softly, “You’ll get hurt. Maybe die.”