RIDE ME MORE, DADDY

Chapter 1:

Arrival at Graves Ranch

The old pickup truck rattled to a stop in front of the sprawling wooden house, kicking up a cloud of red dust that clung to my skin like regret. I stepped out with my beat up suitcase in one hand, the Texas heat slamming into me like a living thing. Nineteen years old, and my whole life had just collapsed Mom and Dad losing everything in one bad investment after another. Now here I was, shipped off to my godfather’s ranch like some unwanted parcel.

Colt Graves stood on the wide porch, leaning against a thick post with his arms crossed. God, he was bigger than I remembered from the few childhood visits. Fifty-one, all hard muscle and sun browned skin, with faint scars peeking from under the rolled sleeves of his denim shirt. His salt and pepper hair was cut short, and those sharp blue eyes locked on me like he was sizing up a new filly.

“Ellie,” he said, his voice a low gravel that rolled right through my chest. He pushed off the post and came down the steps, boots thudding heavy. “You made it in one piece. Was starting to worry that city driver might’ve gotten lost.”

I swallowed, trying to smile as I wiped sweat from my forehead. “Hi, Mr. Graves. Or… Colt? I don’t really know what to call you now.”

He took my suitcase like it weighed nothing, his big hand brushing mine for a second. The calluses on his palm were rough. “Colt’s fine, darlin’. I’m your godfather, but with your folks in that mess, I’m also your legal guardian till things settle. We’ll figure the rest as we go.” He nodded toward the house. “Come on inside before this heat cooks you alive.”

I followed him up the creaky steps, my sneakers feeling flimsy compared to his worn boots. The porch wrapped around the whole front, lined with rocking chairs and hanging lanterns. Inside, the house smelled like leather, wood polish, and something savory cooking. It was huge open beams, stone fireplace big enough to stand in, and wide windows looking out over endless green pastures dotted with horses.

“Kitchen’s through here,” Colt said, leading me. “Living room, obvious. There’s a study down the hall where I handle the books, but you stay out unless I say otherwise. Ranch rules: pull your weight, no sneaking off, and respect the land. It’ll respect you back.”

I nodded quickly. “I’m not a kid, Colt. I can help. I want to learn.”

He paused, glancing back at me with a half smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Good. ’Cause city girls usually fold after one day mucking stalls. But you got fire in those eyes. Reminds me of your mama when she was young.” He started up the stairs. “Your room’s on the right. Mine’s at the end of the hall. Bathroom’s shared, but I’ll give you plenty of space.”

The bedroom was simple but beautiful wooden bed with a quilt, a big window overlooking the corral, and a dresser that looked handmade. I set my bag down, heart thumping.

“It’s… nice. Really nice. Thank you for taking me in. After everything with my parents, I didn’t know where else to go.”

Colt leaned in the doorway, filling it completely. “No thanks needed. Your daddy asked, and I said yes. This ranch has been in my family three generations. It’s quiet, but it teaches you things the city never could. Strength. Patience. How to handle what life throws at you.”

We stood there a moment, the silence stretching. I could smell faint horse and sweat on him, mixed with soap. He was so much older, so solid compared to the boys I knew back home. It made something flutter low in my stomach that I quickly shoved down.

“Dinner in twenty,” he said finally. “Steak and potatoes. Hope you’re not one of them vegetarians.”

I laughed nervously. “No, steak sounds perfect.”

Downstairs, the table was set with two plates. Colt moved around the kitchen with surprising ease for a man his size, flipping thick steaks in a cast iron pan. The sizzle filled the air.

“So,” he started as we sat down, sliding a plate toward me, “tell me about this city life you’re leaving behind. Your folks said you were taking some online classes?”

I cut into the steak, juice running red. “Yeah, just general stuff. Business. Thought maybe I could help run something someday, but… everything fell apart. Mom cried for days. Dad just stared at the wall. I felt useless.”

Colt chewed thoughtfully, his jaw working. “Useless ain’t a word that sticks around here long. Tomorrow I’ll put you on a horse. Name’s Daisy gentle as they come. You ever ridden before?”

“Once at summer camp when I was twelve. I fell off.” I winced at the memory.

He chuckled, deep and warm. “Then we’ll fix that. Can’t have my ward scared of the saddle. Ranch life means you learn to ride proper. Back straight, hips loose, hands steady. You grip too tight, the horse feels it and gets nervous. Same with most things in life.”

His words hung between us. I shifted in my chair, suddenly aware of how his eyes lingered on me not creepy, just… assessing. Like he saw more than the dusty girl in front of him.

“What about you?” I asked, trying to steer things. “You’ve been out here alone since… well, I heard about your wife. I’m sorry.”

Colt’s fork paused. For a second his face hardened, then softened. “Ten years now. Miss her every damn day. But the ranch don’t stop for grieving. There’s cattle to move, fences to mend, horses to break. Keeps a man busy.” He took a sip of iced tea. “You’ll meet the hands tomorrow. Most are good people. But you come to me if anything feels off. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I said automatically.

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging his lips. “Sir, huh? Thought we were doing Colt.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Force of habit. You’re… kinda intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” He laughed outright, the sound rich. “Darlin’, I’m just an old cowboy. You’ll get used to me. But yeah, there’s rules. Curfew at ten till you prove you can handle the dark. No boys from town hanging around. And if you’re gonna stay the whole summer, you learn the work. Deal?”

“Deal.” I met his eyes, feeling bolder. “I’m not here to be a burden. I want to belong somewhere again.”

Something shifted in his expression approval, maybe a flicker of heat. “Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.”

We finished dinner talking easier after that. He told me about the wild stallion he was breaking, Thunder, and how the land flooded two years back. I told him about failing my last exam because of the stress at home. His laugh when I described my terrible cooking attempts made the big empty house feel less lonely.

Later, I lay in bed, the quilt pulled up to my chin even though it was warm. The ceiling fan spun lazily. Outside, crickets chirped and somewhere a horse whinnied softly. I heard Colt’s heavy boots moving down the hall, pausing for a moment outside my door before continuing to his room.

My heart wouldn’t slow down. He was my godfather. My guardian. Fifty-one years old, rugged and commanding, with hands that looked like they could snap me in half or hold me together. And yet… the way he called me “darlin’” and watched me across the table made my skin tingle in a way it definitely shouldn’t.

I rolled over, pressing my thighs together, staring at the moonlit window.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?