Chapter One

The metallic click of a weapon sounded inches from Colton Nox’s head. The noise had every muscle in his body as locked and loaded as the weapon poised at his temple.

“On your knees.” The gritty voice was all too familiar, distinctive for the broken accent.

Colton’s mind jumped to the next segment of the memory. Skipping over the worst moment—the one where he made the biggest mistake of his life—was his modus operandi when it came to this memory.

Now he sat in the Humvee, body rocking as they rolled along the desert track leading out of Iraq. Operation Nicklaus never hit the news. The only people it affected were dead and buried.

Colton’s brain flinched from the sounds of explosions and screams.

He piled out of the Humvee with his commanding officer and two other men who’d survived the horrific ops—only to be ambushed on the only road leading out of the city.

He could feel his rifle in his arms. The scope pressed against his eye and the crosshairs on the person none of them thought they’d ever get a shot at.

His finger twitched, but he was cool when he squeezed off the shot. Before the body hit the ground, he jerked out of the reverie.

Neck aching from the sharp angle of his head against the airplane window, Colton stifled a groan as he straightened in his seat. His long legs were cramped from the economy seating and the packed flight. When his elbow brushed against the passenger beside him, he glanced at her, an apology on his lips.

The words faded as he realized she was asleep and he hadn’t even jostled her. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he attempted to shake the nightmare that looped in his mind ever since that day.

The day when he fucked up. Bucked authority. Not even killing the leader of a renowned terrorist group could ever make up for Colton’s lack of judgment that cost his best friend his life.

Yeah, it was a goddamn nightmare he lived with daily, hourly, sometimes minute by minute.

It was the one thing that could get him on a flight to Montana to face a new nightmare.

He reached into the pocket of his black leather jacket and slipped out the letter. He unfolded the sheet of paper, smoothing the creases put there from folding again and again, and read the first line written in angular script as if the pain of the person writing it seeped into each jagged point.

The letter was difficult to read, but Colton knew it by heart.

A letter from Forest’s father. He thanked him for being beside his son when he died.

Clearly, Sean Gracey was not aware that Colton was responsible for Forest’s death.

He continued to skim over the letter. Gracey accepted Colton’s offer to help on the prestigious horse ranch where Forest grew up. He also warned him that Colton would receive no special consideration. He’d be treated like any other ranch hand.

Sean Gracey closed the letter by telling him to expect back-breaking work that would snap a city boy like him in half.

Colton’s lips twitched at one corner. That was his favorite line—he heard Forest’s voice in his head each time he read it.

But dammit, being broken went against the grain. He was an angry boy who had grown into an angry man with a weapon that the US government placed in his hands. He fought his way through several rings of hell.

Military school hadn’t smothered the banked anger inside him. Four years of that only tacked on an added layer of annoyance with authority.

These things earned him top rank. It got him through SEAL training and carried him through several top-secret ops in the Middle East and South America.

The final op would stick out in his mind forever as the time when he went too far.

He rolled his shoulders to dislodge some of the tension banding across them, but stopped when the woman next to him stirred.

Snap a city boy like you in half.

Colton welcomed the challenge and a different kind of pain that would, with any luck, help ease the guilt of what he’d done. Call it penance or punishment. Either way, he was ready.

The plane touched down nice and smooth. The woman beside him lifted her head and gazed at him through a haze of sleep. Colton quickly folded the letter and slipped it back into his pocket.

His phone buzzed with a text message, and since he wasn’t leaving his seat in the back of the plane anytime soon, he read it.

Just seeing the name on the screen jerked his mind away from his own problems to the second job offer he’d received since leaving DEVGRU, the navy special warfare development group. Ross Wynton of the WEST Protection security agency had been trying to recruit him for the two months it took to get out of Iraq and back to the States.

Ross wanted him on his team bad. And it was a great option for Colton.

Just not one he could accept.

Sure I can’t change your mind, Nox? Ross texted.

Thanks for the offer, but I made a promise I intend to keep. I’m going to help save the ranch. For Forest.

I understand. The offer is always on the table for you.

Colton saw no need to reply and pocketed the phone. As he left the plane, an older man stared at him hard.

Colton gave him a single nod.

“Thank you for your service.”

Damn, even in civvies he stuck out as military. People always knew. Something about the way he carried himself.

He ducked his head in response but said nothing. When he reached the gate, a woman threw him a smile and also thanked him for his service.

He didn’t grin, but he did bear it. The last thing he wanted was thanked for serving his country. Especially now.

Moving with the flow of passengers, he reached baggage claim and glanced around at the crowd. Many wore cowboy hats and boots. Plenty wore jeans and heavy work jackets that made his own worn black leather one stick out just as much as he did due to his size.

Nearby, a woman rushed up to a man and threw her arms around him. He engulfed her in his arms, crushing her to his chest and burying his face in her hair. The display of affection made Colton look away.

His gaze landed on a couple of kids bouncing up and down as an older lady made her way toward them.

“Nana!” One child hurled herself at the woman and wrapped herself around the woman’s knees.

Colton shifted his gaze yet again and stopped on a stunning blonde. Her thick tresses fell down her back in a straight mass to the waist of the pair of tiny cutoff shorts she wore. Toned legs had been bronzed by the sun and were mouthwateringly long, ending in tan cowgirl boots with embroidered threads.

When she pivoted, his gaze moved up her body again and landed on the sign she held.

A sign with his name on it.

His heart stopped.

Peering closer, he saw her resemblance to the freckled, lanky girl in the photos Forest carried with him for so many years.

This alluring beauty must be the only girl Colton could never touch.

Forest’s baby sister, Meadow.

* * * * *

Meadow schooled her expression into the bored one she was so used to adopting. Daddy always sent her on the worst errands. When he told her to pick up the new ranch hand at the airport, she argued that the ranch manager could do it.

Of course, then Daddy gave her a look over the rim of his coffee cup that told her, arguing was pointless. When he did speak to her, it was usually about staying out of trouble.

Half-heartedly gripping the sign she’d scribbled a name on with little care, she glanced over the group of passengers.

She’d never admit it, but deep down, her stomach fluttered with butterflies of excitement. She was about to meet someone else who knew her brother—who might want to talk about him with her.

As always when she thought of Forest, a leaden pang hit her stomach. In this godawful world, Forest was the one person who understood her. He even understood her more than their baby sister Ivy.

Now he was gone.

She tapped the toe of her boot on the floor and scanned the crowd once more for this “ranch hand” she was supposed to pick up.

Colton Nox.

She’d only seen one photo of him, with his arm slung over Forest’s shoulders as they both grinned at whoever held the camera.

She knew plenty about her brother’s best friend, though. Whenever Forest would call or write home, Colton featured in all his stories. She wanted to know more about the man Forest was so fond of.

She also wanted to know what really happened to rip her big brother away from her forever.

When she swung around, she stopped dead. A huge man was staring at her. His intense gaze burned straight past the surface and hit a mark…too close to the pain she kept shrouded inside her.

Snapping her spine straight, she lifted her chin and stared right back.

He took a step toward her. Her instinct to back away from someone so big—so imposing—was strong. But she locked her boots to the floor and gave him a defiant toss of her head as he closed the gap between them.

A ripple ran through her body. She didn’t expect Colton to be so…dangerous.

He stopped in front of her and looked down at the sign she held. “You from the Gracey Ranch?”

“You must be the new shit-shoveler my father took on.” There seemed to be new people showing up on the ranch a lot lately.

He cocked a brow. “Where’s your vehicle?”

His question threw her. For as long as she could remember, when she fired a shot with words, people shot back. They either got ticked off or spouted something nasty in return.

Colton did neither.

She spun on her heels and flung a look over her shoulder. “This way.”

Without waiting to see if he followed her or even had his luggage collected from baggage claim, she took off at a fast clip toward the exit. On the way past a trash can, she pitched the sign into it. It lay there face-up with his name on it.

She replayed the name in her head. Colton Nox. Hell, from the things Forest said about him, the man was almost famous. He could never disclose sensitive information about their actions in DEVGRU, but he had plenty of tales about Colton standing up to anybody who challenged him.

He walked behind her for only a few steps before moving up next to her. She cast him a look from the corner of her eye.

From those photos, she knew he was taller than Forest by a few inches, but seeing it in 3D was a shock to the system. Meadow was tall for a woman, but this guy dwarfed her by a good six inches and a hundred pounds of muscle.

They reached the doors, and she stuck out a hand to shove one open. The Montana air, usually fresh, stank with exhaust from a dozen vehicles parked outside the airport.

Meadow continued without missing a stride. Their new ranch hand kept pace easily with her, and no wonder—if her legs were long, his were tree trunks.

When they reached the big black pickup bearing the logo of her family’s ranch on the side, she clicked the unlock button on the key fob.

“You don’t look handicapped to me.” Colton had only uttered a few words to her, and now his deep voice jolted her with its grit.

She threw him a look. “I’m not. Why?”

“You parked in a handicapped spot.”

She planted a boot on the ledge of the open door to launch herself inside. “So what? They don’t need this many handicapped spots.”

He leaned over and eyed the windshield. “Looks like you got a parking ticket.”

The pink slip of paper jammed under her wiper blade brought a cuss to her lips. With a sigh, she hung out the door to grab the ticket. She threw it on the ground and slammed the door shut again.

When Colton stowed his oversized duffel bag in the back and climbed into the passenger seat, Meadow tried to ignore his low chuckle.

But it edged under her skin.

She backed out of the spot and rolled out of the parking lot toward the highway leading to the ranch.

“How are you associated with the Gracey Ranch?” He must be warming up to her if he was asking questions.

She was wrong about his size. He wasn’t just huge—he was a giant. His head almost brushed the ceiling, and his hard body took up the entire seat. His thick forearm rested on the center console, looking like a weapon of mass destruction with all those veins snaking through sinew.

“My family has owned the ranch for the past three generations. I’m Meadow.”

Did he recognize her name the same way she knew his? Had Forest mentioned her to his friend?

Of course she already knew he had—Forest was her number one champion. Her playmate in childhood.

Her protector in her teen years.

Her stomach hollowed at that thought, which she shoved deep inside her where it would never see the light of day.

“Forest’s sister.” His voice came thick and rough.

The tears she hadn’t shed in months since that terrible day when they received word Forest was killed in action threatened at the back of her throat. She gulped around the lump.

She wanted to talk about her brother—needed to. Daddy refused to mention him at all. She understood it was hard for him, but dammit, it was hard for her too. And her sister was off gallivanting through Europe, running from it all.

Silence filled every corner of the truck, heavy and charged. Meadow was usually the one to cause discomfort, and living with this was bordering on unbearable.

After half an hour, they turned onto the main street leading through the small town that was local to the ranch. She waved a nonchalant hand. “Welcome to Eden, Montana. Population 997. We’ve got two bars, a grocery store, three churches and a bunch of assholes calling themselves cowboys.”

He grunted but said nothing.

“There’s not much to do here besides drink beer and rustle horses. I hope you don’t expect to be entertained.” She was rambling, something she did whenever she was nervous. And the big SEAL next to her made her palms sweat on the steering wheel, she gripped it so tightly.

When he didn’t respond, irritation wove through her. Was the guy a part-time mute? Did he take a grenade to the brain back in Iraq?

Despite Forest’s good view of him, Colton Nox probably thought he was better than her. When it came to men, they didn’t see her as the grown woman she was. And her father sure as hell didn’t see her as one. How many times did he tell her not to speak to his business associates when they came to the ranch?

“You’re a city boy.”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Forest didn’t tell me what a big conversationalist you are.”

He didn’t respond at all. She didn’t get a single rise from him—not even a grunt.

The small town melted away to open fields and mountains.

“A misconception about Montana is it doesn’t get hot. But at this time of year, the humidity’s high and you’re gonna sweat your balls off.”

“Right.”

Right? He didn’t even respond to her crass statement? His one-word answers were driving her crazy.

She shot him a look from the corner of her eye.

His rugged features were chiseled from granite. His jaw set in a firm line that made her think that he wasn’t capable of smiling at all, even though she swore he’d chuckled when she tossed the parking ticket on the ground.

“Have you ever worked on a ranch before?”

“No.”

“Seen one?”

“No.”

“Can you say more than one word at a time?” She realized how childish she sounded, but she didn’t care right now. Her hopes of ever talking about Forest with this friend of his were dying a quick death.

“Yes, I can.”

“Holy shit. That’s three words. I’m stunned.”

He snorted.

Silence stretched on for the twenty minutes more it took to reach the long dirt drive and metal gates with the Gracey name arching above them.

“This is the ranch.”

When he didn’t respond, she braked hard. The action rocked her forward in her seat, but Colton didn’t seem to budge. Her eyes narrowed on him, and all of the annoyance she felt with him for this entire ride burned like vitriol on her tongue.

“You knew my brother. How did he die?”

He turned his head slowly and pierced her in his dark, dark gaze. Those eyes…they sparked with danger and were wired with explosives. She got the feeling that if she made one misstep, a single look from him wouldn’t just wound her—it would end her.

“He died because of me. I’m the reason your brother is dead.”