CHAPTER TWO
BRAXTON
PRESENT DAY
“f**k, I shouldn’t have stayed out so late last night.” I groan as I help Colton load hay onto the trailer. The September sun is barely awake, though I’m surely not, but that’s the life of a ranch hand. I’ve been working at the Bishop ranch for a little over four years, and everyone treats me like family, though most of mine are still in Alabama.
“You chose it, man. I told you to stop goin’ to the Honky Tonk. Way too much damn trouble’s just waitin’ down there,” he tells me with a smug grin. “And possible STDs.”
“You know I ain’t bringin’ nobody home without a background check these days,” I remind him. We finish loading everything, then drive over to the barn where the training horses are kept close to the bed and breakfast on the property. Though I he
