I took a lot of pride in my work and loved what I did. There was nothing like the rush of being on horseback running through the open and natural landscape. This was the way God created the land. It wasn’t taken and shaped and manipulated the way other places were. Across most of the sixty miles of space, the ranch was fit into what already existed rather than having the land work around the ranch. Of course, there were some places that had been cultivated, but they were few and far between compared to the gorgeous rolling hills and lush grass.
I loved to look out over the landscape and see where the trees had decided to grow up. That was where they spread their shade in pools where the cattle hunkered down during the hottest parts of the day. Or the sparkling creek that wound its way through the property with no particular direction. It wasn’t there because it was dug or forced. Just because nature decided it should be.
That creek was fed by rain and snowmelt, and in turn, it fed the river, then the lakes, and eventually the ocean. It was humbling to think far away, the expansive ocean held droplets of water that once flowed right here on the ranch.
Maybe that wasn’t how it worked. Maybe all that water got trapped somewhere else. It could end up in a lake or pond to be evaporated and rain or snow right back down on the ranch. But I liked to think of it my way. It made everything feel so much more connected.
However it all worked, that water ran through some of the most beautiful land ever made. The landscape never got old for me. No matter how many times I’d seen every inch of this place, no matter how many times I rode over the hills and crossed the fields, I never got tired of looking out over the incredible surroundings. It was like living in a painting but with the touch of the breeze and smell of the rich earth.
This was where I would spend my life. I planned on spending the rest of my days soaking up sunrises right here on the ranch and bidding the sunlight farewell at the end of the day. Until the day I couldn’t anymore, I wanted to spend as many nights as possible right out on the land. I would never get enough of unrolling a sleeping bag on the grass and spending the night under the stars while the cows grazed and lay down to sleep all around me. In all the world, I couldn’t imagine anything as glorious as this ranch and the life I had on it. The only thing that could be better would be someone to share it with.
Chapter 6
Gia
I tried to stay awake as much as I could in the car so it wouldn’t seem like I was just abandoning Darcy. She was doing almost all of the driving and I wanted to talk to her and keep her company as much as I could. But adrenaline draining out of me and far too many sleepless nights even before Matteo showed up caught up with me. Every time I woke up was a little disorienting. It always took me a few seconds to remember exactly what was going on and why I was in the passenger seat of a moving car.
As confusing as they were, those few seconds were also peaceful and happy in a way. I didn’t have to feel the fear and worry when I didn’t remember what was going on. But all too soon, it all crashed down on me again and I had to remember why we were on the road.
Waking up from a deep sleep Wednesday afternoon wasn’t quite the same. We had been traveling for two days. Throughout the day, we took breaks to eat and sleep right there in the car. Occasionally, we got out and let Gabby run around to get her energy out. Other than that, we were driving around trying to find where we were going.
I had managed to stay awake with Darcy for a good portion of the night and into the morning, but when I woke up, I realized it was at least the later part of the afternoon. It wasn’t my mind that pulled me up out of sleep. Instead, it was Darcy nudging me awake. My best friend was not a discreet nudger. Gripping a cup of coffee in the hand closest to me, she used her elbow to shove me back and forth roughly.
I straightened the seat up from its reclined position. I groaned a little and blinked to clear up my eyes so I could look around. “What’s going on?”
Darcy pointed at a town sign right ahead of us. “Green Valley, fifteen miles.”
I looked over at her.
“We haven’t stopped in a long time,” she said. “And we haven’t done anything outside this car that didn’t involve a rest stop. Why don’t we head to this Green Valley place and settle in to spend the night? I need a real bed and a good meal.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “It’s still pretty early. We could get some more miles in before we stop.”
“Yes, we could,” Darcy said. “Fifteen of them.”
I laughed. “I guess you’re right. We are pretty far from Sacramento now. We deserve an actual stop and a bit of relaxation.”
“That’s the spirit.” She tilted her head to look around through the windshield and windows. “Wow. This place is gorgeous.”
I followed her gaze. It was truly breathtaking. We weren’t on the main highway anymore, having decided to take smaller roads so we were less detectable. That brought us out into open land that rolled in hills and fields to either side. Vibrantly green grass looked soft enough to lie down and sleep on while large swaths of corn and wheat added golden tips to some areas.
“There’s definitely nothing like this back in California,” I said. “At least nothing I’ve ever seen.”
“I could get used to it,” Darcy said. “It looks quiet and peaceful. And there’s so much space.”
“It really does look big,” I said. “That sounds kind of ridiculous, but it does. It just looks big.”
Darcy took the exit leading to Green Valley and I kept staring through the window. I didn’t want to miss even a second of the landscape passing alongside us. I was pretty sure this was the most beautiful place I had ever seen.
I glanced behind me into the backseat to check on Gabby. She was only inches away in her car seat, but she seemed so far away. Except when I was working, this road trip was the longest I had spent without being able to just scoop her up into my arms. I was so used to being at home with her and just being able to hug and hold her every couple of minutes throughout the day. We had been driving for so long I didn’t get the chance to do that, and even though she was right there, I felt like I missed her. When I looked back at her, she was sleeping peacefully, her little head tucked to the side against the padding.
We drove for a few more minutes before entering Green Valley. When I glanced back at Gabby again, I saw her stirring awake, almost as if she knew something was happening. Like she could somehow sense something different. I smiled at her.
“Hi, baby,” I said softly. “How are you doing?”
She had been amazing throughout this entire ordeal. At three years old, I expected my daughter to be fussy and frustrated throughout the long drive. I had horrible visions of her screaming or kicking, or the dreaded never-ending loop of “Are we there yet?” Instead, she played with the assortment of toys kept on the seat beside her and pretended to read through the books I kept stashed in the pouches on the back of each seat. There had definitely been moments when she got restless and worked up, but they were genuinely few. When they did happen, we were able to resolve them quickly with snacks or pulling off at a rest stop to run around for a bit.
“Hi, Mama,” she murmured, still partially asleep. “Where are we?”
“We are in a place called Green Valley,” I said. “This is where we’re going to spend the night.”
She looked over at her side through the window and watched the small town come into view. I watched along with her, taking in the quaint image. It almost didn’t look real. It was a type of little town I expected to show up in a Norman Rockwell painting or the illustration of a Christmas book, just set in the dead of summer.
We first drove into what looked like a residential area. The houses were old but extremely well kept and adorable. After weaving through a few roads, we ended up on what a sign declared was Main Street. Shops and businesses flanked the street and Darcy slowed down so we could take it all in. It felt very Western, very real, and reliable.
It was hard to describe the town as any
thing but that. I have been to many places in my life that felt like they were changing even as I stood there looking at them. It was like the land was just a platform and what was on it constantly shifted and adapted, becoming different things. But this town wasn’t like that. Even just driving through it and seeing the ice-cream parlor and General Store, the dress shop and restaurants, the town had a sense of depth to it. It was strong and steady, carrying on both along with and in spite of the world around it.
“Look,” I said, nodding toward the street corner ahead of us. “There’s an inn. It looks like it’s built right next to an old saloon.”
Darcy and I grinned at each other.
“That’s amazing,” she said. “Up until this moment, I did not know one of my greatest goals in life was to stay in a hotel built next to an old saloon. Of course, right about now, I would stay in a hotel built next to just about anything. But I really love the vibe of this place so far.”
I couldn’t help but agree. There was sincerity and simplicity here. Like it wasn’t trying to be anything that it wasn’t but was very secure in what it was.
Darcy pulled into the small gravel parking area behind the inn and we climbed out of the car. My muscles and joints protested a bit as they unfurled themselves from the position they were stuck in for so many hours. Putting my hands on the backs of my hips, I arched, stretching my lower back until it felt loosened enough for me to walk. The air was hot and dry, almost stinging on my skin. At least it was better than suffocating humidity.
Scooping Gabby up into my arms, I followed Darcy around to the sidewalk. People walking by smiled at us and a few waved. It was a friendly, welcoming feeling I definitely enjoyed. We walked through the front door of the inn and I let out a relieved breath when the chill of heavily pumping air conditioning washed over me. I stood still for a couple of seconds, just enjoying the brisk feeling before joining Darcy at the front desk.
The woman sitting behind it gave us a warm smile. “Hi, there. I’m Connie. What can I do for you?”
“We’d like a room for the night,” Darcy said. “We’ve been driving a long time and are looking forward to relaxing a bit and getting a good night of sleep.”
Connie smiled a little wider. “I think you’ll find getting good sleep is easy around here in Green Valley. Is it just the three of you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“The rooms have two beds, so you’ll all fit into one if you’d like. Or I can set you up in separate ones.”
“Just one is fine,” Darcy told her. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing.” Connie reached into a drawer at the front of the desk and pulled out a registration card that she slid over toward Darcy. Then she handed her a pen. “If you’ll just go ahead and fill this out for me, I’ll get you the key.”
She went through a door behind her and came back a second later carrying a key with a wooden tag hanging from it. There was a number burned into one side. Connie took the completed registration card from Darcy and handed her the key in exchange. She pointed as she gave us instructions on how to get to the room.
“Something smells delicious,” I said. “Is there a restaurant in the hotel?”
“Absolutely. Best one in town. This hotel has been here since Green Valley was established over one hundred and fifty years ago. The hotel restaurant was considered a jewel of the town. It’s where all the wealthy men brought their wives and sweethearts to dine.” Connie leaned toward us and lowered her voice. “All the ruffians went over to the saloon next door.”
“Maybe we’ll have to take a swing through there later, too,” Darcy said.
“I don’t know if Gabby would fit in,” I said. “But the restaurant sounds wonderful.”
Connie pointed at a hallway a few feet away. “Just down that hall.”
We thanked her and headed straight down the hallway rather than bothering to get any of our luggage to bring up to our room. We were all hungry and in dire need of cold, refreshing drinks. We sat down and looked over the menu. Everything sounded wonderful and I had a hard time choosing but finally settled on pot roast. The weather outside was intense, but we’d been living off primarily picnic food and vending machine snacks since leaving California. The prospect of a genuine hot meal was too good to pass up. The food came quickly and Darcy and I were silent for a few moments as we just indulged.
Finally, she looked around, then at me. “What do you think of this place?”
“The restaurant?” I asked.
“The town,” she said. “How would you feel about settling somewhere like this? I seriously doubt Matteo would ever look for us all the way out here.”
I shook my head. “Not yet,” I said. “I don’t want to stop. We need to keep going. The farther away the better.”
Darcy let out a sigh. “I understand how you’re feeling. I know you’re afraid and want to get as much space as possible between you and Matteo, but we can’t just keep going. At some point, we’re going to have to pick a place and start rebuilding our lives.”
“I know, but it feels too soon. Maybe we should just keep going for a little bit longer.”
“We can’t live on the road forever, Gia,” Darcy said gently but insistently.
She was right. I knew she was. But running still felt safer than planting roots when a man like Matteo wanted me.
Chapter 7
Clayton
The air felt thick like a velvet glove in my throat, and the sweat soaked my armpits through the shirt I wore. The vest had long since been tucked away in the pack, giving me some relief. At least the beating sun had stopped its unrelenting hammer on the back of my neck. But even with nightfall, the August air was heavy and filled with dirt and sweat and humidity.
I took a swig from what must have been my fifth water bottle and looked over to Boone. He was still on his horse, bent over forward resting on his elbow. It struck me how much he looked like an old Marlboro ad, and I opened my mouth to say so when a cold shock ran up my spine.
I spun and Boone shifted to look the same direction. As far as I could see, there was nothing, but the quickly darkening evening was eliminating miles and miles of what was visible. Dim reflective lights in the distance could be fireflies. They could also be eyes, staring back at me. Watching. Waiting.
“You seem spooked,” Boone said. It was a statement of fact, but there was no accusation in it. Boone had been around me long enough to know I wasn’t a wilting lily. If I was acting like I was spooked, it wasn’t something to poke fun at. It was something to inquire about and prepare for.
In my peripheral, I saw his hand slide down to his boot where his six-inch knife was always strapped. His other hand had dropped away from the saddle and was on his hip, where his revolver sat in its holster just like mine.
“We’re going to have to deal with that wolf,” I said, my voice low and even. I resisted speaking through gritted teeth but only just.
“Yup,” Boone said, relaxing a bit but still keeping his hand near his boot and turned in the direction I was facing. “I figure it’ll try to pick one of the head out before too long. Have you noticed it following?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” I said. Boone had been keeping a closer eye on the cattle while I kept one eye out for the predator. It hadn’t been something we talked about but a natural flow of driving the herd. Something needed to be done to watch out for it, and I took that responsibility. We didn’t need to clarify it. We just did the job.
“Do you want to keep pushing forward until we get to the next bend, or just camp out here?” Boone asked.
I contemplated it silently before turning my head back to him. He was staring off at the cattle, his hand settled back in his lap and leaning again against the saddle. I knew he was tired. Hell, I was tired. But I also knew if I told him we needed to get to the next bend in the creek, he’d ride until sunrise. He’d ride until his body gave out and he slept with one eye open on his saddle. But we needed the rest if we were going to get up before the sun an
d finish the drive, and we’d need to take turns staying up.
I waved as if to knock the night and the mosquitos away all at once. “Let’s just set up here. They can get water and we only need to guard three sides and not four.”
“Roger,” Boone said and snapped into action, racing ahead to get the cattle to huddle closer together. They wouldn’t need much convincing this time of night, but the closer they were, the easier it was to keep an eye on them.
An hour later, I pounded the last stake in the ground for my small tent. Usually, I would just roll out a bag and sleep under the stars, but a few clouds above looked like some light rain might come down and a tent would at least keep me dry. Not that I was going to sleep yet anyway.
Boone was already snoring like a bandsaw by the time I got my shirt off and wiped myself down with it. A clean white T-shirt was in my bag and I had every intention of throwing it on after a dip in the creek before bed, but that was later. I needed to give Boone at least a few hours before I could think about getting him up for some shuteye of my own. Until then, the T-shirt stayed folded in my pack and my boots stayed on. I looked forward to the moment when the boots came off and I could stretch my toes in the night air. I wouldn’t tease myself with taking them off now only to throw them back on if something happened.
It was a good thing too. A scream tore through the air so loud that I could see Boone’s shadow snap awake in his tent from the LED lantern. His head stuck through the canvas flap and his wild eyes and wilder premature white hair matted to his face as he searched for me.
“The damn wolf,” he shouted at me, but I was already up.
His Dirty Hands (The Montgomery Boys Book 2) Page 4
