by K. K. Allen
“I don’t need your help.” Then she huffed and started walking down the mountain a different way than she’d come.
“Where are you going?” I called.
“Don’t worry about it,” she yelled over her shoulder. “I don’t need to use your stupid cornfields to get home. I’ll make a new path.”
Rolling my eyes, I watched her walk away until she faded from view halfway down the red and rocky hills. I wanted to go after her, but that would defeat the purpose of calling an official end to our friendship. Besides, if Camila was going to get to the hilltop again, she would have to find another way. It looked like that problem was solved all on its own.
6
Camila
The jagged downhill climb was harder than my stubborn mind had wanted to believe. Getting away from Ridge and anything to do with him had been my number-one goal, but even I could admit that the path I’d chosen to take was the wrong one.
I stepped down on the only rock ledge I could find as my fingers gripped the red rocks above me. The next landing was a four-foot shimmy to my right. I rolled my eyes up to the blue sky and blew out a breath. Now is not the time to panic, Camila. It would be fine. I had gotten myself into stickier situations before.
If it hadn’t been for Ridge and how rude he’d been, dismissing a friendship with me, then I wouldn’t be in the predicament in the first place. It was his fault that I was taking the dangerous route and was one wrong move away from falling to my death. Yet after the way he’d just let me leave, I didn’t think he would care much if I fell.
With a final step, I hopped onto a flatter piece of rock, then I looked around while I caught my breath. The air was chilly, but sweat still beaded above my brow line. My nerves were getting the better of me. I blamed that on Ridge too. I should never have shown him the hilltop. If I hadn’t been so stupid, then I would still have access to my favorite hangout. Now, not only did I have to share it, but I also had to find my own way to and from, if I didn’t kill myself on the way.
The rocks started to get smaller as I descended farther, making it easier to find leverage. When I saw the main landing up ahead, I sighed with relief. I had never traveled to that section of rock before. I’d seen no point in looking for another route when I’d found the path nearest to the cornfields. With the final slope of hill in front of me, I looked back and said goodbye to the mountain that was once mine. I couldn’t come that way again. Even the daredevil in me was smart enough to know when enough was enough.
At the bottom of the final slope, a six-foot drop-off led to a clearing of red rock. I jumped and landed on my feet with my knees bent beneath me, but I miscalculated something. My chin came down hard on my knees, and a howl shot from my throat before I fell back, my eyes opening to the sky.
My ears rang, and the throbbing pain would not let up. A rustle of the tall grass in front of me was like a splash of cold water in my face. Was that a snake? A bear? My mind went wild with the possibilities as I forced it away from the pain.
“Camila!” Ridge shouted.
The relief that flooded me at the sound of his voice came with a rush of emotions. He was the last person I’d expected, but he was the first person to arrive minutes later. I hadn’t even known he followed me.
Just like after my spill on the mountain the day before, he crouched above me with concern in his warm chocolate eyes, which made me melt in his presence. “Why do I always find you like this?”
Despite the pain that was radiating from my chin and all around my jaw, I couldn’t help but laugh. “I never thought I was clumsy before I met you.”
“You really are a wild one, aren’t you?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You keep calling me that. Why do I feel like it’s an insult?”
He stared at me for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re fearless. Brave. But you should be more careful. If I hadn’t been here—”
“I would have been fine,” I cut in, my stubborn bravado back as I lifted myself to a sitting position.
He bent his head and chuckled. “Yes. I’m sure that’s true.”
Ridge extended his hand, a gesture that sparked a glimmer of hope in my heart. I accepted it, fitting my small hand in his as he helped me from the dirt. He’d been living on Harold’s ranch for six months, so I should have expected his rough hands and the dirt beneath his nails. “Your old man keeps you busy, huh?”
He followed my stare and jerked his hand away. “Same way your old man keeps you busy in the vineyard, I suppose.”
I searched his eyes, wondering what other assumptions he had made about me. “I choose to work on the vineyard. I want to learn everything about it so that I can take over for my papa one day. It’s a great responsibility, and I want to do right by my family’s legacy.”
Ridge narrowed his eyes. “Those are big dreams, Wild One. You're a little young to be making those kinds of decisions now.”
“You’re not much older than me. Two years isn’t that big of a difference. You’re telling me you don’t have dreams?”
He chuckled. “Of course I do. They just don’t involve taking over a thousand acres of land.”
“Maybe you need to dream bigger, Ridge Cross.”
His lips tilted into a different kind of smile, one that caught me in the chest. Our age difference clearly bothered Ridge more than it did me. And somehow, in that moment, I didn’t care about rules or family feuds or how things were “supposed to be.” Something about Ridge Cross made me want to hold on to him, no matter the consequences.
He was the first one to break our eye contact. His gaze lifted to just over my shoulder. Something changed in his expression, causing me to turn to see what had caught his attention.
“Is that what I think it is?”
His question came just as I saw what he was looking at—a worn wood-framed entrance with a rusted steel gate that was closed and padlocked. I had to take a step closer to read the engraved words above the door. “Cornett Creek Mine 1875,” I read while my heart pounded. I walked closer to the gate, gripped a section of the bars, and tried to peer inside.
Other than the end of rail tracks at the entrance, I couldn’t see a single thing in the darkness. “This is incredible,” I gushed. But with my next breath came a pungent smell that had me gagging. “The smell. There must be a dead animal in there.” I waved a hand in front of my nose, as if it would make the smell go away. “I bet this mine was forgotten once the property became landlocked by our fathers.” I spoke excitedly as I looked over my shoulder at Ridge. “Speaking of history, this is a big part of it.”
He came up beside me and tried to look inside it as well. His nose immediately wrinkled at the smell. “You realize mining in this town is the reason my Ute ancestors were forcibly removed, don’t you?”
I frowned. Everyone in Telluride knew the disturbing story of what the European settlers had done to the original inhabitants of that land. All the Ute people wanted was the land they’d been raised on to hunt, fish, and live in peace. Then the Meeker Massacre of 1879 happened, provoking a Ute uprising against a US government agency, which prompted the Ute Removal Act. Twelve Million acres of land that had been guaranteed to the Utes were suddenly denied to them, forcing them into exile.
The horror of our town’s past hit me hard, and I swallowed. “We learn about the history of Telluride in school. What happened back then was unfair, and I’m sorry.”
A soft smile appeared on his face, surprising me. “Oh no. You had nothing to do with what happened back then. And I can’t say much myself, since I’m a bit of a mixed bag.”
His ancestry was something I’d yet to ask him about, though I desperately wanted to understand. Luckily, I didn’t have to ask a thing.
“My Cross ancestors were part of the problem and some of the first settlers to own property here.”
After one sentence, I started to fill in so many blanks about Ridge’s background. No wonder he seemed so fascinating and complex. I wanted to know more. “But your
mom took you to live on the reservation. Why?”
His jaw tightened for a second before he released it with a shrug. “I got the impression that we were no longer welcome here. I didn’t ask many questions growing up. My mom didn’t like to speak about Harold.”
I let in a slow breath, trying to stay calm, though my mind was going wild. “That’s got to be hard, not knowing.”
He released his grip on the gate door. “My mom was a good person. I believe she did what she felt was best, and I’ll honor her decision always.”
I released my grip on the gate, too, and turned to face him. “Did you enjoy living on the reservation?”
“The rez is all I know, so I suppose I enjoyed it. Never felt like I belonged, though.” He raised his arms and looked around. “Just like I don’t feel like I belong here.”
I started to frown again but found an opportunity to smile instead. “Which is exactly why we should become friends. I’d love to learn more about where you’re from. And I can teach you about all the things you missed in Telluride.” I grinned, feeling like there was no way he could turn me down. “What do you say, Ridge?” I stuck out my hand. “Friends?”
He twisted his features in hesitation. “Our parents would never allow such a thing.”
“They never have to know.”
His expression relaxed some. “And your friends? They looked at me like I was an alien yesterday.”
I rolled my eyes. “That was Trip. He’s just a big jerk. Don’t pay him any attention.” Then I grinned again. “Just think—one day, it will be you and me running the land. We can end the silly feud then and there. And you know that bridge you tried to threaten me not to cross? One day, that bridge will connect us instead of separate us.”
Ridge’s gaze froze on mine, like even he could picture our worlds coming together as one. “You think so, huh?”
I nodded, more confident than I’d ever been about anything in my entire life. From that moment forward, it would be my main mission. The day I stepped into my papa’s shoes would be the day we ended the stupid feud.
Ridge smiled as his hand met mine for the second time that day. “Okay, Wild One. We can be friends.”
I squeezed his hand and popped up on my toes. “Good. Now you can check this mine out with me.” I’d just started to release his hand and turn toward the mine when he yanked me back to him.
Ridge’s eyes were wide, and he shook his head while letting our hands fall. “Don’t even think about it. We don’t know what’s in there. It’s probably not even safe. Besides, it has a lock on it.”
I looked around and grabbed a large rock. “Then let’s open it.”
He ripped the rock from my hand and threw it into the nearest field. “No way. It’s sealed for a reason, whether our parents know about it or not. Before anyone steps into that thing, it should probably get inspected.”
His suggestion spiked fear in my chest. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”
Ridge sighed without answering and looked behind us toward the tall grass that led to the woods. “C’mon. I’ll walk you to the bridge. Then you need to run on home before your papa comes looking for you.”
“I can walk myself,” I insisted.
Ridge was apparently just as stubborn as I was, because he didn’t listen. Instead, he grabbed my hand firmly and started to walk through the tall grass, into the woods, and down to the creek, which we followed. He didn’t let go of me until we reached the center of the bridge.
There, he waved me forward and started to walk backward toward his own land. “Hurry home and stop getting into so much trouble.”
Though his comment was coming from the right place, all I could think about was what would happen if either of our fathers discovered what we just had. “Don’t tell anyone about the mine, okay?”
He halted and tilted his head. “It’s dangerous, Camila. Someone should check it out before anyone goes exploring where they shouldn’t. They could get hurt.”
“No one will get hurt,” I insisted.
Ridge shook his head and closed his eyes, silently telling me that I was wrong. “You don’t know that for sure.”
“I know, but—” I didn’t know why I felt so protective over something that didn’t belong to me, but it wasn’t just about the mine. It was about the hilltop too. “If anyone finds out about the mine, they could have reason to create a public access road to get to it.”
“Then you lose the hilltop.”
“We lose the hilltop, Ridge. It’s ours now.” I swallowed, praying that he would agree to just leave the mine be. “And I don’t want anything to change that.”
After a few more moments of silence, he nodded slowly. “Okay, Camila. You have my word, but you have to promise me one thing.”
Relief rushed through me, but my heart still pounded furiously. “Anything.”
“Don’t go near that mine again. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“From now on, you’ll access the hillside through the cornfields when the stalks are tall, but if Harold catches you—”
I nodded. “I get it, Ridge. If he catches me, it’s over.”
Ridge tilted his head toward the bridge. “Okay. Now go on, Wild One. Before someone starts looking for you.”
7
The Hunter
Blood seeped through the hunter’s fingers as he hoisted the dead elk over his shoulder. Though it was a heavy son of a bitch, he was no stranger to carrying the load of his livelihood. He’d just started to move through the woods when he heard a howl in the distance. With the same alertness that had made the game on his back grow still before taking the bullet between its eyes, the hunter looked toward where the sound had come from.
When he didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary again, he thought he might have imagined the noise. But after he’d replayed it in his mind, an image of the young girl came forward. She was the only one he knew that would be stupid enough to treat the mountain terrain like it was her playground. Always getting into trouble, that girl. Someday, she would learn her lesson. Perhaps that day is today.
The hunter lifted the elk off his shoulder with a grunt then dropped the sturdy animal to the ground. He couldn’t travel quickly with the heavy kill on his back. If he had any chance of investigating the noise, he would have to move fast.
His heavy boots were loud as he stomped over fallen branches and dried yellow leaves. He walked toward the sound of the human howl, which still lingered in his mind while his twisted thoughts worked through all the scenarios he could imagine of the state he would find the young girl in.
Perhaps she’d stumbled into one of his bear traps. But that would be impossible, since the only two bear traps he’d placed were deep in the woods. Even Camila didn’t dare to go deep into the woods.
Maybe she’d fallen onto the jagged rocks in the creek. She would be wet and cold and ripe for the beating he dreamed of giving her, since her father didn’t have the balls to teach his little girl how to mind her own business.
Thought after disturbing thought of how he would finally find Camila raced through his head before he eventually made it to the clearing. Adrenaline pumped through his veins at the thought of finding her there, helpless and alone.
He emerged at a flat section of land on the back of the mountain then followed his unmarked trail to the side of it, just before the grass grew tall and thick. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but a feeling in his gut told him someone had been to the mine—his mine.
It couldn’t have been the girl. She would never come that way, not when she had those damn cornfields to run through. But that howl and her damn curiosity. What if she stumbled upon it after all?
Rage brewed inside the hunter at the thought of the intrusion. He’d had the mine and the surrounding land all to himself for over fifteen years, and he wasn’t about to let any of that change.
With adrenaline morphing into anger and boiling through his veins, he trudged toward the padlocked gate and curse
d when he saw that the large rock he usually used as a doorstop had been moved. Did I do that? Or did she? He wouldn’t put it past that little brat to eventually wander too far and stumble upon the ancient landmark.
The hunter picked up the rock and set it back in its rightful place. After slipping his key into the padlock, he unlocked the door and opened it before stomping back into the woods to collect his latest kill.
For years, the young heir had been getting too close to the hunter’s grounds than he was comfortable with. The young girl was off-limits and was not to be harmed, and the hunter would obey that sentiment so long as he continued to have access to the land he’d profited from for so long… but he had a lot more to lose than ever before. The moment she became a threat, she would have to go. As simple as that.
8
Camila, One and a Half Years Later
Every so often, my papa and his old hunting gang gathered in the casita, a detached house on the west side of our villa. The small building held a few offices, including my father’s study, where they had their private gatherings. The room filled with smoke and laughter while the men drank too much wine, played poker, cursed every other word, and flung insults back and forth until they either passed out in one of our guest rooms or went home.
Mama always cooked a feast for the men, and I delivered it throughout the night. I’d taken on the job willingly when I was a bold eight-year-old who loved to hide in dark corners to eavesdrop on the men’s conversations. Lately, the entire scene gave me chills, and I wished nothing more than to be anywhere else.
“Your daughter is an angel, Patrick,” one of the men said as I set down a plate of sandwiches.
My papa looked up from his fanned-out cards. A cigar dangled from his lips, and he beamed at me like I was the equivalent of one of the hunting trophies hanging on his walls. “That she is, Bill. That she is.”
