Live for Me (Hallow Ranch)

by Brittany Ann

I was too busy staring at the gift: a photo of all of us, taken last year at a Christmas party. Lying beside it, wrapped in individual ribbons, were bundles of their hair, each labeled with their name. Brown for Dave Blonde for Hannah. Red for Becca. A dark, almost black, for Tim. And for good measure, my stalker also had a lock of Harris’ bleached hair tied to Dave’s.

Things had changed in Hayden ever since that night at the rodeo—-the people of this town respected Abbie now. They welcomed her, and her mother was now an outcast, still living in a shitty trailer just outside of town. No one ever saw her anymore, not since Abbie moved out and into my house. My dad took her in, giving her my bedroom, and for the last two years of high school, the three of us lived in a comfortable routine. When I graduated, I moved to the bunkhouse on Hallow Ranch, and when Abbie graduated a year after that, she stayed for the summer, working at Hallow Ranch alongside me and Pop. Then, when the summer was over, she packed what little she had and moved into the dorms at her university. Two years later, she was living in a small apartment off campus, driving back to see me every weekend in the car I’d bought her.

I was the happiest and luckiest son of a bitch on Earth. All because of her. My wildflower.

I put my hand on Abbie’s lower back, hearing her small gasp. Fuck, I loved that. I loved the way she responded to my touch, and I couldn’t wait to hear those sounds in my ear later.

She glared at me for a moment, and then her eyes flicked to where Abbie stood. “You fuck—” In a flash, I had my gun out and pointed to her, seeing red. “Finish that fucking sentence,” I snarled. “I dare you.” She opened her mouth to shout at me, but a sharp voice cut through the air like a sword. “Sheri Spears.” My head turned to find Sheriff Peters and Officer Bowen standing two stores down. Miriam poked her head out of the door. “Oh good, you’re here. Sheri came into my shop, caused a disturbance, and was about to threaten one of my customer’s. We’ve asked her to leave multiple times, and she has refused,” she explained as they closed the distance. Officer Bowen’s blue eyes snapped to mine. “Mr. Marks.” I tipped my hat. “Officer Bowen.” His eyes shifted to my gun. “You wanna put that away for me?” Not really. However, getting arrested wasn’t on my to-do list today. I looked back to Sheri as I sheathed the weapon before taking a step toward her. “You ever try to interfere with my woman’s life again, you’re done. Do you understand me? I won’t stop until you’re rotting in a fucking prison cell where you belong,” I said calmly. “Unless Abbie asks to see you, you stay the hell away from her.”

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” I murmured. Her lips thinned, and I could tell she was about to cry, doing her best not to let that dam break. I silently cursed as I hooked my finger under her chin, tilting her face to me. My eyes scanned hers as I whispered, “No one is allowed to hurt you, not even her. You understand me?” “You shouldn’t have to protect me all the time,” she whispered back. My head tilted to the side. “Protecting you comes with the job, Wildflower.” A single tear fell onto her cheek. “And what job is that, Beau?” “Loving you.”

Mags being in the bunkhouse this late at night was concerning. Mags leaving his cabin to come to the bunkhouse this late at night was very concerning. Mags leaving his cabin to come to the bunkhouse to get me at midnight wasn’t just concerning—-it scared the shit out of me. Something was wrong.

“I’m not going to bother telling you not to freak out or to keep your cool, because that’s just not in your nature when it comes to this.” Comes to what? “Mags, what the fuck are you talking about?” I bit off, my muscles tensing. “Got a call from Red Snake Investigations,” he stated. I clenched my jaw, waiting for him to give me more. “Ash is there for the next few weeks while they move everything to Portland,” he reminded me. I knew this. Grayson and Carrie lived in Astoria. Having a Red Snake office in Denver didn’t make sense anymore. “What is it, Mags?” The words came out cold—distant. It was poor attempt to tame my mind as fear threatened to invade it. Mags sighed and rose to his full height, turning to face me. “Ash got a call from a woman claiming to have a stalker. She sounded like she was about to have a panic attack, and Ash gently advised her to take a breath. She must’ve gotten the wrong idea, thinking Red Snake wouldn’t be able to help with her situation and she hung up on him. Now, Ash being Ash, he wasn’t going to let that go, so he had Jake run her number,” he explained, pausing for a moment. I didn’t move a single inch, frozen as he continued, “The number is registered to Abbie Spears.”

“Before she hung up, she went on a panicked ramble, telling Ash that a few weeks ago, the stalker broke into her home while she was in the shower—” “—oh hell fucking no,” I growled, moving then.

I was a cowboy in love, and my woman was in danger. There was nothing on this fucking planet that could stop me from getting to her.

“Send me her fucking address,” I clipped. “Already done.” That was Mags. “Tell Denver I’ll be back when I can.” “Will do,” he said calmly.

I may not be hers anymore, but she would always be mine, whether she wanted me or not.

I’m coming, Wildflower. I never broke my promise.

So waking up at four in the morning to someone pounding on my front door was definitely not a part of said routine, and was sure to throw me off my game for the rest of the day. Groaning, I rolled over to my nightstand and yanked my charger out of my phone as I scrambled to open my home security app. As I logged in, thunder clapped outside, and I looked over to my window, watching the rain in the streetlight.

“Abbie!” My head shot up, and I jumped, my phone bouncing off the bed and clattering to the floor as the sound of my name echoed off my walls. They knew my name.

The pounding grew harder and louder as I rounded the corner, finally stopping in the foyer. Without a second thought, I flipped the three locks, dropped the chain, twisted the knob, and yanked the door open. There was one big, huge, no—monumental problem. It wasn’t Dave standing on my porch at four in the morning. Hell, it wasn’t even my stalker. My chest heaved as I took him in with wide eyes, from his boots, to his Wranglers that fit him in a way that drove me mad, to his damp white T-shirt, to his cream cowboy hat. My eyes dropped down from the top of the cowboy hat I was very familiar with to the owner’s eyes. The most gorgeous blue eyes I’d ever seen. Celebrities had nothing on these eyes. The summer sky had nothing on these eyes. The ocean had nothing on these eyes.

A lump formed in my throat as my heart raced, running as if she was running back to him, and I could feel my depressed soul perk up at the sight of him.

The rain outside came down harder, and a flash of lightening illuminated Beau’s face, showing me emotions I was certain I didn’t deserve to see swirling in those blue eyes. A clap of thunder followed after, and I jumped, reaching for the doorknob of the closet, panic rising up inside me. I hated storms, but I loved the rain.

A second later, I felt the heat of his body disappear and heard the door slam. My shoulders sagged. He left. He saw the mess I was and left. Not that I could blame him. I counted to ten four times as the lightning and thunder lessoned. When the only thing I could hear was the soft rainfall, I opened my eyes and lifted my head. A scream came from my throat as my hand shot to my chest when I found the cowboy leaning against my front door, his arms folded over his chest, his ankles crossed, his jaw still unbelievably tight with anger. None of those things made him any less beautiful. No, not Beau.

I didn’t know which was worse. Him being in my home after six years or me realizing that, after said six years, I was still hopelessly, desperately, painfully in love with him.

“You have two minutes to grab your shit and get your ass in my fucking truck,” he clipped, the sound of his rich, deep voice seeping into me. My greedy soul drank in every single word. My heart was ready to jump—again. However, my logic held her by the throat, his words settling into my brain in a very different way. “What are you doing here?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” “Hallow Ranch got a call tonight. About three hours ago to be exact,” he told me, his voice hard. Three hours ago. That was how long it took to get to Hallow Ranch from here.

“Ash Doss is the kind of man to show up at your fucking door and put you under his damn protection, and hunt down the sorry son of a bitch stalking you himself. However, you being who you are to me meant that once Ash discovered your identity, he called Mags,” he bit off, his arms falling from his chest. You being who you are to me. “This isn’t—” He pushed off the door. “Say this isn’t my goddamn business, and I will lose my fucking shit, Abbie,” he growled, closing the distance between us. “I made you a fucking promise all those years ago, and unlike you, baby, I intend to keep my promises. All of them.”

“You are in danger,” he pressed. “You have a fucking stalker—one who broke into your home while you were in the damn shower.”

“I need you to leave,” I rasped, my heart cracking in two. Those lips, once addictive and teasing, spread into a cruel smile when I looked back at him. “You have another thing coming if you think I’m stepping out of this house without you, Wildflower.” Wildflower. I sucked in my bottom lip, sinking my teeth into the flesh to stop the pain that word carried from penetrating my heart. But I wasn’t strong enough, not anymore. Not after everything I’d been through. My body, my heart—my damn soul—was exhausted, beaten down to the point of no return. So when the man I loved called me the nickname he gave me the first time he made love to me in a field dotted with wildflowers as the sun set and stars twinkled above us, I couldn’t handle it. The first tear was hot as it landed on my cheek, but the second? The second felt like the fires of hell.

“Need you to pack a bag, Abbie,” he said, his voice low but gentle. I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere, Beau.” He shook his head in return, not breaking eye contact. “It's not an option. You’re in danger. You’re not safe here.” “I’ve been handling it,” I told him. That strong jaw jumped again as he turned his head, giving me a view of his handsome profile. I stared, my heart jumping up into my throat, silently praying he would grant me—us—mercy, that he would leave my life once and for all. He needed to realize the truth, and I thought he’d finally gotten it through his thick, stubborn skull. His presence was proof it hadn’t. He was still fighting for this—for us, after all this time.

“Right, now that the bullshit has stopped spewing from your pretty mouth, let’s get a few things clear,” he began, his rough voice growing harder with each word. His eyes lifted to my left and, without a word, he dropped his hat on one of my coat hooks before pressing both of his hands on either side of my head.

He leaned in, his chest an inch from mine as he held my gaze. “I will always care about you, Abbie Spears. Don’t you ever fucking forget that, and don’t you ever—fucking ever—thank me for doing so,” he clipped, his minty breath hitting my lips. “Beau—” “Now, because you’re you and I seem to only have patience for brunettes with deep brown eyes and a fucking attitude, I’m going to give you three minutes to pack your shit. Got it?” I shook my head, my hands balling into fists at my side. “Beau, I’m not going anywhere. I have work.” “Take a fucking vacation,” he returned in a no-room-for-argument tone.

“You need to leave,” I said firmly. “Now.” When he didn’t move, I shoved against him. He only moved back an inch. “This isn’t any of your business, Beau Marks. Get the hell out of my house, or I’m going to call the police.” His head ticked to the side. “Doubt they’ll come, baby. Like you told Ash, the police didn’t help you with your stalker, so why the hell would they help you now?”

“You think you don’t have anyone?” he continued softly, ignoring my sounds of protest. “You think you have to fight all your battles alone, with no one by your side?” I shoved against him as I shouted, “Leave me alone!” He blinked and gave in, his hand falling to his sides as he stepped back. Suddenly, I felt like I could breathe again, like I’d regained control. “It’s been six years, Abbie,” he said thickly. I looked at him as I moved away from the wall. “I can fight my own battles, Beau,” I shot back. “I don’t—” “—you screaming and hitting me won’t scare me away,” he cut me off. My mouth closed as he muttered, “I can’t believe I have to fucking do this.” Before I could ask what “this” was, he charged for me, bending and swooping up over his shoulder.

“Abbie, if you got rid of the fucking boots I bought you, I’m taking you over my fucking knee right here and now.”

“Where are the fucking boots I bought you?” he growled. “They’re in the mudroom at the back of the house,” I whispered, heat building in my cheeks as I felt another curl low in my belly, a flicker of desire humming between my thighs. “They fucking better be,” he clipped. Why did he care so much about a pair of old boots?

“I assume you’ll want your laptop,” he said. My hands were still in my hair, and I was very tempted to yank it out. “Beau, I swear to the heaven’s above—” “None of that shit is going to work on me,” he returned from the other side of the door, his voice closer. I heard a small thump and decided to get back to cursing his name and family. Maybe then he would leave me the hell alone—like he should have in the first place. I was in the middle of my second curse when the door was pulled open, and all the air left my lungs. Beau had my boots in one hand, my—packed—weekender over that shoulder, and his hat was back on his head. He jerked his head. “Get some pants on and let’s go.” Now it was my turn to laugh, the sound shocking me. “Are you kidding me?” I screeched. “What part of ‘I’m not going anywhere’ do you not understand?” “All of it,” he answered simply, “because you are.” I planted my feet and folded my arms over my chest. “No, I’m not.”

Most stalkers went unpunished. But Abbie’s wouldn’t. That fucker’s ashes would be spread on Hallow Ranch’s mountain before the summer was over—I had no doubt about that. I wouldn’t rest until I knew she was safe.

I had to get her safe first and take care of her stalker. Only then could I hunt down every single man she’d touched since me. Fuck me, I had a fucking to-do list.

There was no stopping the love I felt for her. There was no cure for the spell she put on me. There was no ending to Abbie. Not for me.

She was living in pain—just like me—and I didn’t understand it. Why in the world was she in so much pain if she’d achieved her dream? She got what she wanted.

I shouldn’t have noticed the way that damned t-shirt rode up, giving me a full view of her bare hip and a peek of her lace underwear. I’d already had to grab a handful of them from her damn dresser, enough to fill my fantasies for the next three years. My cock twitched in my jeans, feeling something it hadn’t in years, reacting to just a few inches of skin. Jesus fucking shit. When she rose back up to her full height, she muttered a curse, inspecting her cell phone. “Call the cops, and I’ll redden your ass” I warned,

I exhaled through my nose, growing tired of her bullshit already. We hadn’t even been around each other for an hour. That was just how it was between me and my wildflower. We were fire and gasoline. Either we’d rise in the flames together, or we’d let them consume us, destroying us completely. Clearly, she’d chosen the latter.

Yeah, I’d had enough of this. “Fuck it, I guess you don’t need pants,” I murmured. Before she registered what I’d meant, her shit was on the bed, and I was coming for her. She held her hands up in protest, backing into her nightstand. “I am not going—oof!” She was on my shoulder again, her weight calming me. She was in my arms, which meant she was the safest she could be. “You’ve got to start listening to me,” I grumbled, banding my arm around her and grabbing her bag and boots in the other hand. “Put me down!” she screeched, hitting my back with her fists.

“Your ass is in the air, Abbie. Don’t fucking tempt me. Not now.”

“God fucking dammit,” I bit off, snatched both her wrists in one hand and forcing my body between her legs as they hung out of the truck. I leaned down into her space, my upper lip curling. “Quit being a fucking brat, Abbie May Spears.” The sky opened up some more, and the sprinkles morphed into fat raindrops, soaking my back as I hovered over her. Her eyes were wide, her breaths coming out as soft pants, the sound going straight to my cock, keeping the damn thing hard. “Don’t tell me what to do, Beau Darren Marks,” she spat back, baring her pretty teeth to me. I cocked my head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Telling you what to do is my favorite fucking pastime, Abbie. Here,” I said, reaching for the glove box and pulling out what I needed, “watch this.” In a flash, I had her facing forward, a shout coming from her as I leaned over the seat, clamping a cuff on her wrist and clamping the other one to the steering wheel. “Beau! What the hell?” she gasped, looking at me with wide eyes. “Did you just—” “Yeah, baby, I did,” I said, righting my hat, rain drops falling from the brim and landing on her bare thighs.

I was ready to spend my life fighting her tornadoes, chasing them down, loving her through it all.

“Look, she may not want to be mine anymore, but she is. There’s nothing else to it. She has my protection for the rest of her life, no matter what happened between us. That was never going to change,” I said, setting down the box. “You’re fucking crazy. You know that, right?” Ash said softly. “I’m a cowboy, Ash. A cowboy who made a fucking promise to her,”

As I got closer to the truck, the agony in her eyes morphed into something else entirely: longing. It was gone as quick as it came, but as I climbed into the driver’s seat, I felt something ignite in my chest for the first time in years. Hope.

“I’ll get those off you soon enough.” “The second I get out of this truck, I’m going to your father,” I spat, knowing Jigs wouldn’t stand for this.

elbow propped up on the window as he turned the wheel with an open palm, going down the hill to the barn and the bunkhouse. Desire curled—once again—in my stomach, licking my insides in the most delicious way. Damn Beau Marks for making driving a truck look like porn.

“We doing this the easy way or are you planning to continue to be a pain in my ass?” he asked simply, grabbing his cowboy hat. I looked out the windshield, my spine snapping straight. “I’m not leaving this truck until you take me back home, Beau. I do believe I said this multiple times in the last three hours.” “One hundred and forty-three times, actually.” I bit the inside of my lip, refusing to look at him. “And one hundred and forty-three times, I believe I told you weren’t going home until this fucking stalker was handled,”

“Oh yeah? And what the hell are you going to do, Beau? Hunt him down and turn him into the cops yourself?” A shadow fell over his features. “Who said anything about going to the cops?”

“You couldn’t possibly—” “—killed a man with my bare fucking hands for touching you once,” he cut me off, his voice filled with malice. “I have no issues doing it again.” “Murder isn’t the answer,” I stressed. He held my eyes. “It is if someone hurts you.”

“The guys should be coming back from pasture four any minute, and I’ll be damned if they see you in nothing but a t-shirt,”