#foster ranch
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rnmcrashcon ¡ 2 years ago
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bellarkeselection ¡ 1 year ago
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Giving Second Chances
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Gifs above don't belong to me they belong to their rightful owner
Wattpad request from Silverose365 Reader is a trouble teen the state is having trouble with so after multiple failed foster families the state calls John. The reader accidentally messed up on a job and gets called out until Rip makes a different choice than her previous foster family's.
John and Rip followed Sheriff Haskell out into one of the barns on the ranch. The three stops in the entrance seeing someone peaking their head over one of the hay bails. John slowly walked forward trying to not scare the girl off that looked to be a young teenager reminding him of meeting young Rip. “Hey there, kid. I ain’t gonna hurt you. Do you wanna come talk with us?”
“Where’s the girl from?” Rip crossed his arms looking at Sheriff Haskell.
He responded to John’s right hand. “She’s been bounced from foster home to another. She’s got a bad streak of breaking the law. I got a call saying the foster system was sending her to him until she bolted. Thankfully she ended up where they we’re taking her. Bringing her to John.”
Lifting my gaze up to the older cowboy guy wearing a tan cowboy hat I watched him bend down to her level. “Are you going to send me back to foster care….I don’t do good in that place. They all say I’m too old and reckless.” I had been moved around where I just started running away every time they sent me back in the system.
“I ain’t sending ya back. My name is John Dutton, what’s your name darlin’?” The rancher asked me offering his hand and I allowed him to pull me to stand up with him seeing another guy by the sheriff that was dressed in black with dark hair and hard eyes staring at me.
I nervously responded back to him. “Y/n. My name is Y/n, sir…what are doing now?”
“You come work for me.” John said looking at the man calling his name so I could put it with his face before he left us in the barn together. “Rip, you’re gonna teach her the way I did you.”
It had been a few months since that day and this is the longest that I have ever been in compared to my other foster homes. Placing a dark brown hat on my head I slide my brown boots on heading to the Yellowstone barn. Throwing a saddle on Lioyd’s horse I started tying it on until I heard one of the bunkhouse cowboys coming over to me. I believe Walker was his name. “It looks like a a cowgirl doesn’t know how a saddle goes on a horse.”
“What…what did I do?” I panicked beginning to twist the sterups and the back sinch backwards before I ran my hands through my hair.
Walker came over on his horse. “You put the saddle on backwards kid.”
“Crap, crap.” I mumbled under my breath quickly fixing it until John came over to me seeing that I avoided his gaze mumbling to myself unknown that he could hear me. “How could I put the entire saddle on backwards. That was stupid. I should have known that.”
It wasn’t the first the older rancher had seen her be hard on herself after she made some mistakes or didn’t be s quick as what the cowboys had told her to do something. And she would end up beating herself up over failing. John just hoped the girl saw that she was a good hand like he did. Because she was almost the same way when he found Rip years ago.
Walking through the barn I nodded to my boss Rip Wheeler who was walking with his horse when he noticed me. He climbed up on his horse addressing in my direction. “Y/n, got saddle Mr. Dutton’s horse. You’ll be riding it today with us to learn how to ride.”
Running inside the barn I took the reins of the boss’s horse tying the rope on the side of the wooden fence. Tossing the saddle over the horse I quickly tied it together. Putting me foot in the stirrups up Rip called my name. “Woah you think you’re forgetting something kiddo.” Shifting my gaze down to the ground I hadn’t noticed my hat fell off during the process.
“Ah shit…sorry sir.” Snatching it up I placed it on my head quick climbing back on the horse knowing he didn’t like wasting daylight and I always followed his instructions as fast as he said them.
Rip had me following behind him where I griped the reins in my hands bouncing with the horse watching the others herding the cattle in front of us. Normally he was leading the pack but not today. “Go herd up the ones on the side that get loose. You got that?” He kicked his horse to go when I nodded in understanding.
Running down the valley I followed after one cafe that got loose leading it back to the group. Staying close to the group another one got loose where I grabbed my rope throwing it over it head trying to lead it back but it just picked up sped. I screamed when it managed to pull me off my horse and I fell into the dirt. “No, no,…ah fuck!”
“Woah girl, are you alright?” Lioyd came over on his horse holding the reins of mine since it ran off towards him so he brought my horse back over to me.
Holding my right wrist I winced when I tried to bend it a little. “I think I just tweaked my wrist a bit….I thought I roped it the right way.”
“You roped it around the neck when it should have been around the waist so he wouldn’t run on ya. Climb back on your horse and help us finish this out.” Rip responded sternly beside his older friend.
Scurring to my feet I put one foot in the stirrup using my left hand to support most of my weight than my right. I should have done better, sir.” I apologize when Rip glared at me watching me ride off with Lioyd figuring that she meant well.
Once nightfall had come and everyone had their horses up for the night I didn’t come down to the bunkhouse for dinner since I was staying in the spare room of Rip and Beth’s house. Brushing my hair away from my face I had banded my wrist as best as I could and put everything I had in the duffel bag foster care had given to me. I just needed to wait until everyone went to bed to run rather then wait till morning already knowing what would happen. I had messed up way more than someone my age should. “I’m too old to get adopted….I will be better off just waiting until I’m eighteen. Only two more years left being someone else’s problem..”
“When I said don’t think you deserve this. I meant it literally but I didn’t you’d run from it.” Whipping my head around I gasped through tears seeing Rip was leaning in the doorway of my bedroom.
Croaking through tears I scooted up against the pillow and headband avoiding his gaze. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“Cause you didn’t come down for dinner and you ain’t missed a meal since the day you came here. You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” He presses on with his tone being both stern but went softer when he could hear me lightly crying in front of him.
Hugging my knees to my chest I buried my face into them sobbing even more when I struggle to get the words out already sensing what he was going to say next. “I’m a screw up here, Mr. Wheeler. I can’t do half the jobs you give me right…I don’t have great confidence even when I put in as much effort as I can. You see me exactly like everyone else does…a reckless teenager who won’t make it any longer in getting adopted. Cause I don’t follow directions good….so you’re done with me. You’re going to send me back tomorrow.”
“Where the hell did you get an idea like that, sweetheart?” He blurted out raising his voice in shock.
Peaking over my knees with my hair in my eyes I whispered back to him. “That’s what every family I have been with does. Why would you be any different to me?”
“Because you are the hardest working foster kid I have seen. You’ve got good manners and put in almost more effort than any of those bunkhouse boys do. And you ain’t any reckless than most teenagers are.” He came over and sat beside me on the bed removing his black hat when he went to take something out of his jacket. He unfolded a paper and handed it to me. “You are a darn good kid, Y/n. I am hoping to help you improve your confidence in time being here.”
Scanning my eyes over the paper in my small hands I couldn’t hardly believe it. “You want to adopt me..but I….thank you Rip.” Flinging my arms around his neck he was taken back not used to seeing me giving any kind of emotion like this.
“You’re welcome, darling. But promise you will still work as hard as you would if you weren’t gonna be my kid.” He hugged me briefly until he made me look in his eyes when he barely broke the embrace.
Nodding through happy tears I grinned up at the cowboy and lead hand of John Dutton. “Don’t worry I will..uh dad.”
Footsteps came down the hallway where we both glanced over over shoulders noticing that it was his wife. “You better call me mom and come eat this hamburger helper otherwise you’ll face the bear.”
“Yes ma’am.” I jumped off his lap rushing down the hallway making it to the kitchen table almost shoving food into my mouth overjoyed to actually have a place to call home.
Beth smiled at her husband when he stood by her in the hallway watching you. “She’s our kid now, baby.”
“She’s our second change at one and I gotta say she’s a pretty good one.” He responded looping his hand with hers giving her a gentle and the pair joined you at the dinner table.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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varpusvaras ¡ 2 years ago
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Every single time I get into a new fandom, at some point I get the urge to do a horsegirl au.
Palpatine dies because one of the horses kicks him in the face.
That’s it, that’s the AU. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.
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zooophagous ¡ 2 years ago
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So due to some unexpected flux that came up (yesterday evening actually) it may not be a great idea for me to adopt a dog right now. No fault of his own and he's actually damn near the perfect platonic ideal of a dog, its more my problem and my cat's problem as Aster started escalating when he realized the dog doesn't fight back.
However, my sister and my sister's cat both love him and she's actually my neighbor only a few houses down, so she might apply for him instead in which case he'd still be a hiking buddy and little friend to visit.
Long short of it is, work is gently encouraging me (threatening me) to find a new position because mine won't exist soon. I work from home right now which is why I felt comfortable getting a dog at all, but losing my job I'm going to have to be throwing all my time into finishing my unpaid tattoo apprenticeship which will leave me strapped for cash and out of the house ten hours a day, and I can't and won't crate a dog for that long.
Until the period of flux ends it may be more stress than I can handle. :/
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ashleyjohnsonoftheday ¡ 2 years ago
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Day 184
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softerpixels ¡ 2 years ago
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was thinkin' a little too hard about my horse girl save and now i have two potential (very different) backgrounds/storylines hmmmm
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rebelangelsims ¡ 1 year ago
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Edith and Min-Joon would be definitely the type to adopt, foster and have kids of their own.
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myriad--starlings ¡ 2 years ago
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HORSE GAME OF THE YEAR DROPPED DEMO LET'S GOOOOOOOO
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apexkeepers ¡ 3 days ago
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Herding Heroes: Celebrating the Legacy of Farm and Herding Dogs
Farm and herding dogs, like those featured in rodeo history, are unsung heroes of the agricultural world. Their intelligence, agility, and loyalty make them indispensable companions for farmers and ranchers. At Apex Keepers, we’re dedicated to supporting these incredible animals through our not-for-profit dog food and rescue initiatives. The Role of Herding Dogs in Rodeos Herding dogs have long…
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hystii ¡ 6 months ago
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Diana
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ametamorphosisaddiction ¡ 6 months ago
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Part One; The Heart and Hardship of Animal Rescue: A Journey of Compassion and Survival
I often find people amazed by my extensive experience with animal rescue and street vet work, particularly when I share some of the most challenging and occasionally amusing stories. My journey into animal rescue began when I was just a toddler, following in my mother’s footsteps. She had been rescuing animals since she was a young adult, passing her compassion for animals onto me. Our…
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collincountymagazine ¡ 8 months ago
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McKinney TX stories: Veterans Memorial Park honors those who gave their lives; U.S. Marine Ronnie "RD" Foster's legacy
R.D. Foster tribute to Navy Seal Chris Kyle: “I want to live a cowboy’s life”
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sandythereadingcafe ¡ 10 months ago
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REVIEW :
A TASTE OF WHISKEY (The Whiskeys: Dark Knights Redemption Ranch 3) by Melissa Foster at The Reading Cafe:
'The character driven premise is compelling and riveting '
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zooophagous ¡ 2 years ago
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I'm gonna meet that little freak dog on March 3rd his foster family promised to be at this one.
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cathygeha ¡ 10 months ago
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REVIEW
A Taste of Whiskey by Melissa Foster
The Whiskeys: Dark Knights of Redemption Ranch
Colorado ranch with heart and hope run by the Western Whiskeys sees daughter Sasha decide it is now or never for her to act upon an interest that has been on slow burn since she was inhigh school. With a no fraternization between employees rule where they work, on the family ranch, being with him is forbidden so how WILL they get together?
The intertwining storylines of various series are fun to read in order or whenever you come across a book by this author. And this time, as always, the lead characters are perfect for one another and do get their happily ever after even though they have waited years to achieve it. The chemistry between Sasha and Ezra is smoking hot. The love they both feel for one another and for Ezra’s young son leaps off the page. The friendship is genuine and has built up over time. Seeing others who I have read about in previous books was nice as was guessing which person will have their story told next. The Dark Knights are closer than family and there for one another as was shown once again when Ezra’s son was in trouble.
Gus was a charming little boy who nearly stole the show. He did not deserve the flakey mother he ended up with but fell in clover by landing on the ranch with his father. I appreciated the way Sasha’s parents allowed their children freedom while protecting them at the same time. The story is all about trust, family, friendship, communication, and deep abiding love. Great story by a wonderful author. Thoroughly enjoyed it!
Thank you to the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.
4-5 Stars
BLURB
Sasha Whiskey is done being the good girl. She’s ready to wrangle in the one man not looking to be caught and give him a taste of Whiskey. With any luck, one taste won’t be nearly enough. Come along for the steamy, emotional ride in this friends-to-lovers, forbidden romance. Equine rehabilitation therapist Sasha Whiskey has everything she needs right there on Redemption Ranch—a job she’s passionate about, a loving family, and Ezra Moore, the sexy single father who went from trying to nail her as a belligerent teen to keeping his distance as a successful therapist and the person to whom she compares every other man. She’s done with comparisons. She wants the real thing. But going after what she wants means risking everything they’ve both worked so hard to achieve. If only dating co-workers weren’t forbidden. From New York Times bestselling author Melissa Foster comes The Dark Knights at Redemption Ranch, a small-town, big-family series of standalone romance novels featuring fiercely loyal, insanely sexy bikers who give horses—and people—a second chance. Buckle up for a wild ride in Hope Ridge, Colorado, as these big-hearted badasses and their sassy sisters wrangle in their forever loves. No cliffhangers, no cheating, and always a happily ever after. The Dark Knights at Redemption Ranch The Trouble with Whiskey Freeing Sully (Prequel to For the Love of Whiskey) For the Love of Whiskey A Taste of Whiskey More coming soon… ** While you’re waiting for more Dark Knights at Redemption Ranch, get to know their cousins. The Dark Knights at Peaceful Harbor. Tru Blue Truly Madly Whiskey Driving Whiskey Wild Wicked Whiskey Love Mad About Moon Taming My Whiskey The Gritty Truth In for A Penny Running on Diesel The Dark Knights at Bayside A Little Bit Wicked The Wicked Aftermath Crazy, Wicked Love The Wicked Truth **Don't miss River of Love (The Bradens at Peaceful Harbor), the first story in which the Whiskeys at Peaceful Harbor were introduced, and Searching for Love (The Bradens & Montgomerys), the first story in which the Whiskeys at Redemption Ranch were introduced. Read the entire Love in Bloom big-family romance collection. Characters from each sub-series appear in future books/series. Snow Sisters The Bradens at Weston The Bradens at Trusty The Bradens at Peaceful Harbor The Bradens & The Montgomerys The Remingtons The Ryders Seaside Summers Bayside Summers The Steeles at Silver Island Sugar Lake (Kindle Unlimited) Harmony Pointe (Kindle Unlimited) Silver Harbor (Kindle Unlimited) Wild Billionaires After Dark Bad Billionaires After Dark Harborside Nights Tru Blue and The Dark Knights at Peaceful Harbor The Dark Knights at Bayside "Melissa Foster writes worlds that draw you in, with strong heroes and brave heroines surrounded by a community that makes you want to crawl right on through the page and live there. - NYT bestselling author Julia Kent "With her wonderful characters and resonating emotions, Melissa Foster is a must-read author!" NYT Bestseller Julie Kenner "You can always rely on Melissa Foster to deliver a story that's fresh, emotional and entertaining. Make sure you have all night, because once you start you won't want to stop reading. Every book's a winner!" NYT Bestselling Author Brenda Novak "Melissa Foster is synonymous with sexy, swoony, heartfelt romance!" NYT Bestseller Lauren Blakely
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hellishjoel ¡ 5 months ago
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wild like the west
3.3k / pairing: cowboy!joel miller x cowgirl!reader
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summary: joel and his cowgirl warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), implied but unspecified age gap, joel is technically reader's boss (so power dynamic stuff), swearing, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, brat, etc.), unprotected p in v, pussy pronouns, asphyxiation kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clean up on aisle reader's stomach, reader is described having hair but otherwise (I believe) reader is a blank slate, no use of y/n, barely edited A/N: I unfortunately have not stopped thinking about a game joel miller x yellowstone crossover, and I feel like he would like this to be his long, happy life. I also haven't written for joel since may which feels like a sin! sorry baby!
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It doesn’t matter how many ass bruises you get, or the pain of repeated thrashes to your knees from getting bucked off; this unruly horse will bend its spirit to your will. 
Half the job of purchasing new horses for the Miller Ridge Ranch is breaking them in like a pair of new shoes. 
Any cowboy, or for you, cowgirl, knows that a horse can sense your personality and fear from a mile away. If you sprout fear, it won’t trust you to be the guide on its back. It’s a mutual thing to trust one another. It’s the trust Joel thrust upon you after loyally working at the ranch for a handful of years. Sure, you were young, but you had a good head on your shoulders.
He perches his cowboy boot on the low fence rail, teeth gnawing at a toothpick as he watches you with careful eyes. The morning dew settles over the long grass and tall trees, untouched by man, fostered by nature. With the sun clawing at the horizon, the land turns from a pale blue to a beaming orange glow.  It’s beautiful here, peaceful. You imagine this is the life that Joel always wanted, craved. He’s not from around here, he’s got too much Southern twang to be from these northern Montana woods. 
Life guided him up here and he never turned back. 
You can feel the horse grow agitated under your haunches, whinnying with anxiety as it takes a few rough steps backward in the ground-up dirt. 
“S’okay, boy, take it easy, easy,” you coo in a gentle voice that lets the horse breathe through its panic. You grip the colt’s mane at the very base of his neck, right by the horn of your saddle, gently scratching that sweet spot that seems to bring him some tranquility.
You’re the only one who seems to calm these beautiful boys. 
“You got a habit of gettin’ in’ta trouble before it even knows to start lookin’ for ya.” Joel’s southern drawl rumbles deep from his chest, stepping into the training ring and crooking his first two fingers in your direction. 
“I got it, Joel,” you say insistently, guiding the horse by a little squeeze of your boots to its belly in Joel’s direction. 
“Know ya do.” Joel stops at the horse’s chest and pats its neck, large and calloused hand stroking down its coarse mane as he stares up at you, squinting from the morning sunlight. 
His eyes are starkly brilliant in this light, typically a dark brown, now a glowy amber under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “You know that part of learnin’ how to be a cowboy is lettin’ them break in their own horse. Hop down.”
A sigh leaves your parted lips as you unhook one boot from the stirrups and throw yourself off. Taking the reigns, you walk with Joel back to the main fence. 
“You’re too nice to ‘em. I hired you to be a bit more…” He pauses indefinitely, tilting his head.
“Ruthless. I know.” Your eyes connect, both hardened after years of this long life. One day of being a cowboy felt like a year at any other job. 
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The plan was plain and simple, a route you’d taken a hundred times with a crew that changed on and off for the past couple of years. The cattle were in need of fresh resources, lush grass to graze on, and streams of pristine crystal water. Up through the valley they’d go. 
The cowboys and cowgirls were gathered on their horses, Joel sat atop his beautiful black mare, eyes piercing his crew even behind his tinted sunglasses. Any season besides summer in this state demanded thick, warm work wear. Joel adorned a chocolate brown Carhartt and thick denim jeans under old, worn-out brown chaps. 
“I want Wyatt and Jack to take front, Bo and Sadie, swing, Jess and June on the flank, Tucker and Sammy on the drag. Wear your bandanas, it’s gonna get dusty back there,” your eyes flick up to a string of confused faces, “any questions?” 
“Why do we have to go through the valley? We’d have to push hundreds of cows through open water,” Bo mutters, disdain for a woman making all these choices for him, perhaps. 
“Yeah, n’I can’t swim. Never learned.” Another pipes in. 
“Then you’re a goddamn idiot,” old man Wyatt gurgles up a chuckle. Wyatt has been a cowboy longer than you have been alive. He raised you up to be tough with a streak of kindness that could never be washed away. He gives you a tight nod of reassurance as you sigh weakly. 
All this tomfoolery seems to be a bit much for Joel’s taste. “She’s takin’ questions about the plan, not your ��pinions on it. I tell her what to do, she tells ya’ll what to do. You question her, you question me. So do as she says, or you answer to me.”
Joel’s always had a tight hand on the crew. He intimidates them. He is their boss, after all. They have a problem with you or this ranch or anyone else, they answer to him. Joel takes off his sunglasses and narrows his eyes on Bo, the newest cowboy with a pretty big mouth on him who bucks just as bad as your new colts. And his dead eyes are set on you. 
The rest of the crew sets off towards the direction of the cattle herd, everyone except Bo. 
Your head jerks upward in his direction, your own eyes narrowed. “You wanna say somethin’?” You ride alongside Bo, who seems to be wrestling with his stupid thoughts. But before he gets a chance to say anything, Joel intervenes. 
“Got a fight in you? It starts an’ ends with me.”
Bo looks between both of you, simply scoffing before he backs his horse off and trots along towards the crew. 
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The view from the top of the valley is beautiful, all yellow and golden, with a pale blue sky and tall trees that harbor the secrets of the forest. Joel used to tell you it would whisper to him, warn him. Your chestnut-colored horse stands tall next to Joel’s, and both of you are overseeing the herd and the crew working together. 
“Not as bad as I thought this was gonna be,” Joel mutters, turning his head in your direction. You’re unrecognizably quiet. He’s never known you to be so still. 
He watches as your fingers anxiously twirl your horse’s mane. “You undermine me in front of them, and they don’t respect me, Joel.” 
So that’s what got you so stiff. He takes in a deep breath of mountain air, crossing his wrists over the horn of his saddle and glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. Your hair blows in the wind, gentle and flowing. Almost graceful if it wasn’t in this wild west. Your beauty was city beauty, he was surprised you ever found your way out here. 
“Bo’s as green as grass. He needs to learn not t’talk to you like that. And if he needs to learn from me, so be it.”
Keeping your lips zipped, your eyes scan the points that use the dogs to guide the herd in the right direction. The swings and flanks work the mid to back-mid to maintain movement, and the drags stationed at the back ensure that any loose stragglers keep up. 
Joel rolls his eyes and sighs, reaching his hand across to your horse’s reigns, keeping your horse tucked to his side. 
“C’mon, Cowgirl. Spit it out.” 
“You go about defendin’ me, it looks like we’re sleepin’ together,” you gripe, “and I don’t need our crew slingin’ the slander that I got my job fuckin’ the boss. I don’t want that shit, Joel.”
Joel shifts his jaw from side to side, silent as he usually is. His tongue muscles over the right words, the words that will settle that ball of uncertainty you have nestled in your gut. 
He settles on the truth. 
“We are sleepin’ together.” 
Shaking your head, you steal your reigns back from Joel and gently nuzzle your boots against the horse’s underbelly. “Well, maybe that should end.” 
Joel watches on with a small smirk as your horse is set in motion down the grassy hill. He shouts loud enough for his voice to carry down from the high ground. “You set those boys straight, or I’ll have to keep doin’ it for ya.”
You sling back your middle finger in his direction, both of your horses riding side by side now as you follow the crew through to the valley. 
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Joel sighs upon entering his large, private cabin, resting his cowboy hat to air out on a hook by the front door. His clothes wreak of his musky sweat, and the shower calls his name. He walks stiffly. Joel’s thick thigh muscles are as strong as iron from riding his horse, and his back cracks each time he inhales.
But he can’t deny that this life was made for him. 
Training to be a carpenter, earning pennies on the dollar to work in the hot Texas sun, and for what? Building someone else’s dream property? He had his own dreams. 
The ranch was his dream.
He always had a profound appreciation for nature and the outdoors. 
Fuck the city, fuck car horns honking obnoxiously, fuck the traffic. He found more fulfillment in listening to the wind flutter through the trees and would much rather hear the moos of his cattle than impatient commuters at six in the morning. 
Plus, he’s never felt more free or independent. This was his land, and he made the decisions on how it was run. Hiring the sassy cowgirl from the metropolis just happened to be a nice bonus on lonely nights when there wasn’t much left to his whiskey bottle, and the ride into town was more than twenty minutes for a new one. She sated him all the same, better, even.  
Despite years of riding and wrangling, you’re so fucking soft. You have soft eyes, a pretty voice, and satiny thighs. Your lips are plush against his weathered ones, and you don’t seem to mind sitting in his lap with his rougher-than-barbwire hands feeling over your body. 
But in turn, you’ve made a little soft spot in his wild like the west heart of his. And he swore he’d never settle down; you seem to have the same intentions. 
Things were easy. Nice and easy. Almost routine. 
The bunkhouse would be busy with cowboys and cowgirls playing card games, drinking their beers, singing to the music on the radio, and talking nonsense. You’d slip out after dark and wind up upstairs in his bed. 
He recalls you saying something about how his bed is more comfy than the ones in the bunkhouse. 
“Whatever you say, darlin’.” 
Tonight was no different. Fresh from his shower with a towel secured low on his waist, he hums curiously at the sight of you sprawled out across his bed. No more than a minute later, you are tugging it loose from his frame and letting it pool around his ankles. 
“Thought you said you were done,” Joel muses with a hint of teasing. You sit up from the bed on your knees and wrap your arms around his broad trap and shoulder muscles. 
“I ain’t a quitter,” you mutter against Joel’s mouth, feeling his tongue glide along yours as he explores you freely. 
He sheds your clothes, feeling your freshly showered skin and hair under his rough palms. He can’t help but touch you like you’re his, like he owns you. But no man can possess the wind. 
You kiss as he slips you under the bed’s cool sheets, drunk on the way you move so pliantly under his guidance. His lips move to the slope of your neck, his greying whiskers scratching your skin before he washes over the irritation with more kisses. 
Joel’s hands slip between your legs, cupping your clothed center in one hand. Your eyes light up at the friction, mewling up a moan of his name as he massages over the wet spot growing on your panties. 
“She’s already soaked, darlin’. You been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” Joel muses, sitting up properly to peel your shirt off your body, two fingers curling around the hem of your panties and chucking them mindlessly on the floor. 
“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly as he’s about to slip down between those pretty legs of yours. 
“What?” He asks, damn near annoyed. 
“I can’t wait,” you beg breathlessly, his eyes meeting yours. “I-I can’t, I’m beggin’ you, please. It’s been a long day.” 
Joel sighs but ultimately nods. It’s not what he wants, but sometimes you both need a quick fix. 
Joel’s body parts your legs, a grunt escaping the depth of his throat as he ruts his hips against your own. 
“Good idea,” he mutters against your mouth, leaning down and distracting himself with your kisses as he lines his length up and down your soaking center. 
You sharply inhale as he enters and the sound is music to his ears. He feels your nails carving into his back muscles as he sinks himself in deeper deeper deeper, both of you panting with eagerness by the time his hips are flush with your own, lost in where you end and he begins.
You let out a string of moans as he reels himself back, only to return to your depths with a snap of his hips that releases a shrill whine of his name from your throat. His forearms are buried in the fluff of the pillows on either side of your head, forehead against forehead, his hips grinding against you now. 
The friction is enough to make your head spin. You can feel the coarse hair of his happy trail tickling your already anxious pearl. 
“Fuck,” you huff out, letting your hands slip down his back, knowing that if you want him to pick up the pace, you’ll have to ignite his fire. In one quick movement, your hands drag themselves up Joel’s back, your nails creating etched lines that raise red once you finish at the very tops of his shoulders. 
Joel releases a long, low groan in response as his eyes snap open to meet yours. The sting of pain creates heat along Joel’s spine. His jaw is wound tight as he brings his large hand to wrap around your pretty throat, thumb on your chin to force you into staring straight at him. 
“Such a goddamn brat,” he growls, adding pressure to the column of your throat as he begins to pound into you harder and harder with each thrust of his hips. You cry out his name, a cacophony of your panting moans and your slick squelching against his hips fill your ears. The ecstasy of losing just a smidge of air is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 
He’s obsessed with the way your eyes gloss over in lust, your body jerking up the bed with each powerful thrust he gives you. Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air that’s just out of your reach. 
“You take it, baby girl, you keep takin’ it. She’s so fuckin’- goddamit, so fuckin’ good for me,” he pants, feeling the warm air dissolve against your skin as Joel begins to swell fatter inside of you. 
Perfectly slick and warm, he loses himself in your pussy. You squeeze and choke him, his orgasm only building as you whimper how good he feels. 
“Holy fuck, Joel, please please please, right there, ohmygod you’re gonna make me-” you gasp, your back arching off the mattress as you grip onto his forearm that’s still holding your delicate throat, your other hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. He knows to squeeze a little harder as you fall apart, the euphoria of the combination sending you over the edge. 
Joel’s holding on for dear life, always focused on putting you first, always trying to prove your jokes of him being an old man wrong. But he can’t deny he’s nearly finished twice now, your pretty cunt all nice and warm for him. 
What’s wrong with pushing you over the edge a little?
Joel abandons the hold on your throat as you still are witnessing the aftershocks of your orgasm, his two thick fingers circling over your swollen clit. 
Joel smirks as your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping wide as you silently scream in pleasure. He nods sadistically, smirking as he overstimulates your already twitchy clit.
“You’re gonna give me another, right here, right now,” Joel grunts, stilling his hips as he’s buried to the hilt inside you, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as your gasps and strangled moans fill the room. 
“Fuck, Joel I don’t think I can,” you cry out, bracing the wrist of the hand that’s still working figure-eights around your pearl. Joel watches as your chest rises and falls quickly, nipples at peaks as you continue to clench repeatedly around his cock. 
 “Know you can, baby, cum on this cock again. You’re a strong cowgirl, ain’t’cha? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, getting this pretty girl drilled by me, know ya have.”
And he’s right. Shamefully so. Denying Joel looks good in and out of his cowboy attire is just nonsense. The way he rides his horse with his thighs snagged tight around its middle, gnawing on his toothpicks to ward off the need to smoke a cigarette or chew; at this point, it’s everything that he does that turns you on. 
And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to give him a second one. 
Your nails pierce into his skin as your hands grip his biceps, mewling and moaning something wrecked, feeling the warmth gather deep in your belly once more. 
“Keep fuckin’ me, I didn’t say to stop,” you pant.
Joel disguises his laughter by meeting your lips with his own, giving you messy kisses that taste better than perfect ones. His hips and fingers work in tandem to force you over the edge. You’re shaking under him, your thigh muscles twitching with excitement, legs wrapping around his middle as he grows closer to his own finish. 
Just as he feels like he’s going to give way, he can feel your pussy clenching around his aching cock, his tip brushing so perfectly against that spongy spot that sets your insides alight. 
“Fuck,” he grits, ripping himself loose of your perfectly wasted cunt as he yanks over his length. One, two, three more times, and he’s spilling warm spend across your belly. The pretty splatters are like a Jackson Pollock. He stares in awe at how pretty you look getting finished on. 
The bed dips as he falls into place beside you. He doesn’t lay idle. He reaches for some tissues from his bedside table, politely wiping away his mess as you stare at him with lustful eyes. You were so fucked out. Sorta cute. 
“Quit,” he mutters, avoiding your eyes. 
“You ain’t as old as I thought you were.” You whisper, a smirk tugging on the corners of your mouth. 
Joel chuckles softly at your familiar tease. He's heard it countless times, but it never ceases to make him roll his eyes and pull you closer to him. He kisses your forehead affectionately, his voice carrying a hint of playful banter.
“You gonna keep remindin' me about my age every chance you get? Don’t stop ya from comin’ back each night.”
You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart thump. 
Joel’s got one arm slung around your shoulders, the other on your thigh that’s draped across his middle. His strong hand works slowly into your tired muscles. You play with the greying curls on his chest, taking note of the dark, nearly black ones still speckled throughout. 
“Goodnight, old cowboy.” You say, patting his chest, hearing his slow laughter rumble from his chest. 
“G’night, pain in my ass.” 
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