KEEPING THE COWBOY'S BABY

Chapter Two: Keeping My Distance

I showed up at five-thirty on the dot the next morning. The sky was still dark gray, the air cool and sharp with the smell of damp earth and horses. My truck lights cut across the main yard as I parked. A few other hands were already moving around, quiet and focused. No one paid me much attention, which suited me fine.

The head hand, a stocky man named Ruiz, pointed me toward the main barn and told me Jax would give me my first assignments himself. I found him near the stalls, already working. He wore a dark long-sleeve shirt with the cuffs rolled up, jeans, and boots that looked like they had seen years of real use. His shoulders filled the shirt in a way that made it clear the muscle came from work, not a gym. He glanced up when I approached, gave a short nod, and handed me a list without wasting words.

“Morning. You’ll start with the horses in the east stalls. Check water, clean the ones that need it, then help with the feed run. After that, report back here. Questions?”

“No.”

“Good.”

That was it. He turned back to the horse he was working with and left me to it. I liked that about him already. No small talk. No extra questions about how I was settling in. Just the job.

I got to work. The routine came back easy. Brushing, checking hooves, moving with the animals instead of against them. The physical effort felt good. It kept my mind off the image of Cole and Tessa that still flashed behind my eyes when I let it. I kept my head down and focused on the tasks in front of me.

By mid-morning the sun was up and the yard was fully awake. I was hauling a water bucket when Cole appeared near the fence line, leaning on it like he had all the time in the world.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” he said.

I didn’t stop walking. “I need the work.”

He pushed off the fence and fell into step beside me for a few paces. “You could’ve just talked to me, Sloane. Instead of making a scene and running off to my brother’s payroll.”

I set the bucket down harder than necessary. “There was no scene. I walked in. I left. We’re done. That’s all.”

He gave a short, humorless laugh. “You always did like pretending things are simple.”

I picked the bucket up again and kept moving. He didn’t follow this time, but I felt his eyes on my back until I turned the corner of the barn.

Later, while I was stacking empty feed sacks near the storage shed, Tessa walked past with two other women who worked in the main house. She slowed just enough to speak without looking directly at me.

“Cute how some people think a little hard work makes them belong here.”

The women with her smirked. I kept stacking the sacks and didn’t answer. There was nothing useful to say. She wanted a reaction. I refused to give her one. After a moment she moved on, laughter trailing behind her.

I finished the stack and went back to the horses.

Around noon, Jax found me again. He watched me finish cleaning a stall for a few seconds before speaking.

“You’re thorough. That’s good. After lunch, you’ll ride out with Ruiz to check the north fence line. Take the gray mare. She needs the exercise.”

“All right.”

He studied me for a beat longer, then added, “If Cole bothers you while you’re working, tell me. Don’t handle it yourself in a way that makes more noise.”

I met his eyes. “I can handle Cole.”

“I didn’t ask if you could. I said tell me.”

His tone stayed even, but there was no room in it for argument. I nodded once. He gave another short nod and walked off toward the main house. I watched him go for a second longer than I should have, then forced my attention back to the work.

The afternoon ride with Ruiz was long and quiet. The land rolled out in every direction, dry grass and low hills under a hard blue sky. We checked posts, tightened wire where it needed it, and marked a section that would need full replacement soon. Ruiz talked only when necessary. I matched his pace. By the time we rode back in, my shoulders ached in a way that felt earned.

I was putting the mare away when Cole showed up again, this time near the tack room.

“You look like you belong here already,” he said. “Funny. You never looked that comfortable when it was just us.”

I kept hanging the bridle. “That’s because this is work. We weren’t.”

He stepped closer. “You’re still mad. I get it. But you don’t have to freeze me out completely. We have history.”

I turned and faced him fully. “History is exactly why I’m freezing you out. Leave me alone while I’m working, Cole. I mean it.”

He held up his hands in a mock surrender, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Whatever you say, Sloane. Just don’t forget who brought you around here in the first place.”

He walked off before I could answer. I stood there for a moment, jaw tight, then went back to putting the tack away.

Near the end of the day Jax called me over to the main barn again. He had a clipboard and was making notes while one of the hands reported on a sick calf. When the hand left, Jax looked at me.

“You kept up today. No complaints from Ruiz. That’s more than most people manage on their first full day.”

“Told you I could do the work.”

“You did.” He made another note, then glanced up. “Tomorrow you’ll help with the morning vaccination rounds. Be here at the same time. Wear long sleeves. Some of the calves fight.”

“Understood.”

He held my gaze for a second, then dismissed me with a small lift of his chin. I left the barn and headed for my truck. The sun was dropping low, painting the fences gold. My body was tired in the best way. My mind was quieter than it had been in days.

Cole and Tessa were problems I would have to manage, but they were not the reason I was here. The medical bills were. The work was. The paycheck that would start coming in two weeks was.

As I drove out through the main gate, I glanced once in the rearview mirror. Jax was still in the yard, talking to another hand, standing with that same solid, grounded presence he had shown since the moment I met him. Professional. Distant. Completely focused on the ranch.

I looked away and kept driving.

This was the job. This was the plan. Keep my head down, do the work, and stay out of the rest of it.

I could do that.

I had to.