Swift and Saddled Lyla Sage
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PraiseforSwiftandSaddled
“Swift and Saddled delivers everythingIwantina steamycowboyromance!Lyla Sage has outdone herselfwithWes and Ada’sbook Bothcharacters cometolifeonthepageinavividandheartwarmingstorywhereopposites attractwithtruly combustible chemistry Their love storyis tender,relatable,andbrimmingwithdelicious tensionthathadme hookedfrom theveryfirstpage.Thisisatopreadoftheyearforme.”
ElsieSilver, USAToday bestsellingauthor
“Lyla Sage has crafted something truly special in the Rebel Blue Ranch series. Deeply sweet, charminglyfunny, and the perfect amount ofsexy, Swift and Saddled (and all of the Rebel Blue stories) are the atmospheric, romantic rides of my dreamsthatI’llgladlyreturntoagainandagain.IsimplycannotwaitforwhateverLylagivesusnext.”
TarahDeWitt,authorofFunny Feelings
“TakemehometoRebelBlueRanch LylaSagehasdoneitagainwithanothertender,swoonworthy,andachinglyromantic story.Idisappearedintothepagesandneverwantedtoleave.ReadersaregoingtobesweptawaybyAdaandWes.”
B.K.Borison,authorofLovelight Farms
“Swift and Saddled wrappedmeupinawelcomingembraceandneverletmego.I’dgiveanythingtostayinMeadowlark withWesandAda”
HannahBonam-Young,authorofOut on a Limb
Praisefor
DoneandDusted
“Asweet,slowburnthatfeelslikesunshineinwrittenform.”
LanaFerguson, USAToday bestsellingauthor
Swift and Saddled
Names,characters,places,andincidentsaretheproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously
actualevents,locales,orpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental
Copyright©2024byLylaSage
DialDelightsExtrascopyright©2024byPenguinRandomHouseLLC
ExcerptfromLost and Lassoed byLylaSagecopyright©2024byLylaSage
Allrightsreserved
PublishedintheUnitedStatesbyTheDialPress,animprintofRandomHouse,adivisionofPenguinRandomHouseLLC,NewYork
THE DIAL PRESS isaregisteredtrademarkandthecolophonisatrademarkofPenguinRandomHouseLLC
DIAL DELIGHTS andcolophonaretrademarksofPenguinRandomHouseLLC
Thisbookcontainsanexcerptfromtheforthcomingbook Lost and Lassoed byLylaSage Thisexcerpthasbeensetforthiseditiononlyandmaynotreflectthefinal contentoftheforthcomingedition
LIBRARYOF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATIONDATA
Names:Sage,Lyla,author.
Title:Swiftandsaddled/LylaSage
Description:NewYork:TheDialPress,2024 |Series:RebelBlueRanch;2 Identifiers:LCCN2023047065(print)|LCCN2023047066(ebook)|ISBN9780593732434(tradepaperback;acid-freepaper)|ISBN9780593732441(ebook)
Subjects:LCGFT:Romancefiction |Novels
Classification:LCCPS3619.A384S952024(print)|LCCPS3619.A384(ebook)|DDC813/.6 dc23/eng/20231127
LCrecordavailableathttps://lccnlocgov/2023047065
LCebookrecordavailableathttps://lccnlocgov/2023047066
EbookISBN 9780593732441
randomhousebookscom
Design by Virginia Norey, adapted for ebook
Coverdesignandart:AustinDrake ep prh 63 146382208 c0 r0
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Epigraph
Chapter1:Ada
Chapter2:Ada
Chapter3:Wes
Chapter4:Ada
Chapter5:Ada
Chapter6:Wes
Chapter7:Ada
Chapter8:Wes
Chapter9:Ada
Chapter10:Wes
Chapter11:Ada
Chapter12:Ada
Chapter13:Wes
Chapter14:Ada
Chapter15:Ada
Chapter16:Wes
Chapter17:Ada
Chapter18:Wes
Chapter19:Ada
Chapter20:Ada
Chapter21:Wes
Chapter22:Ada
Chapter23:Wes
Chapter24:Ada
Chapter25:Wes
Chapter26:Ada
Chapter27:Wes
Chapter28:Ada
Chapter29:Wes
Chapter30:Ada
Epilogue
Contents
Oursunsetsglowwithcolor, Andinthepearlydawnofmorn, Thepungentscentofsagedriftsdown, Onabreezethat’smountainborn
“ThisGod-forsakenLand,”JuanitaLeach,cowboypoet,circa1940s
I’vecomeincontactwithalotofliars,butnonequitesobigasGoogle.I’mnottryingtodiscreditthesearchengine,butI amtryingtobringattentiontoitsmostannoyinginaccuracies Inthiscase,tellingmethatthedivebarIwassittingin becauseitwastheonlyestablishmentinthesmalltownofMeadowlark,Wyoming,thatwasopenpastteno’clockonaSunday night servedfood.
Itdidnot
Google’s stupid bar-graphbusy-meter also said that the Devil’s Boot not sure if that’s actuallythe name of the bar, consideringthatthere’snotasignanywherethatindicatesthat wasn’tbusy. Itwas.
Notinsanelybusy,butbusyenoughtoatleastgetthe“moderatelybusy”designationonGoogle
Therewasalsoaveryboisterouscabalofoldmenatthebar Googlecouldn’thavetoldmethat.Butifthere’dbeenany picturesofthisplaceonitsbusinesspage,Iprobablycould’vededucedthatformyself.
AndavoidedtheDevil’sBootaltogether StupidGoogle.
This place was exactly what I thought of whenever I pictured a small-town dive bar. There was old-school country playingonajukeboxandanexcessivenumberofneonsigns;itsmelledlikestalecigarettes,andtherewerespotsonthefloor thatmyDocMartensstucktowhenIwalked.
I’mnotasnob.I’vegotnothingagainstagooddivebar.Ijustdidn’tthinkI’dendupsittinginone.Nottoday.
WhenIleftSanFranciscoyesterdayandstartedmakingmywaytoWyoming,adivebarwould’vebeenthelastplaceI wantedtobethenightbeforeIstartedthebiggestjobofmycareer
ButIwashungry,andthesmallbutweirdlyquaintmotelIwasstayingintonightdidn’thavethebestWi-Fi,soIleftin searchofsustenanceandinternetaccess,butIonlyfoundoneofthosetwothings.Whatkindofdivebarhasnofoodbutgood Wi-Fi?
ThekindwithaverytallandveryhotbartenderwhotookpityonmewhenIaskedaboutfoodandfishedoutasnack-size bagofDoritosfrombehindthebar andgavethemtomewithmywhiskeyandDietCoke.Ididn’taskhow oldtheywere I didn’twanttoknow butIhadaprettygoodidea,consideringtheywerealmostsoft Theytastedlikethebaghadbeenopen forawhile,thoughitwasstillsealedwhenIgotit.
Afterthat,Isettledforahigh-toptableinthecorner.Onthewallbehindit,therewasaneonsignofacowboyridinga beerbottlelikeabull Theridiculousnessofittuggedatthecornersofmymouth,andIlikedthatfeeling
Honestly, I didn’t know if eatingthe Doritos that could probablyqualifyfor a senior citizendiscount was better than eatingnothing,buthereIwas,eatingthem.
I wiped the nacho cheese dust off my fingers so it wouldn’t dirty my iPad screen I had pulled up the email threads betweenWestonRyder and me, double-checkingthe time Iwas supposed to be atRebel Blue Ranchtomorrow morningand makingsureIhadthemapdownloadedtomyphone,justincase.
Thatwasme,AdaHart,nothingifnotprepared
Ididn’tknow muchaboutRebel Blue justwhatTeddyhad told me over the pastfew months. Iknew Teddyfrommy firstyearofcollege.WewenttothesameschoolinColorado atleastformyfirstyear.Afterthat,Iendeduptransferringto beclosertohome
Goinghome was now a decisionthat I deeplyregretted, because it had led to what would forever be knownas “the incident”tome,butalsoknownasmyweddingtoothers.
Ishookanythoughtofthat and him outofmyhead
After IleftDenver,IstayedintouchwithTeddy mostlyonsocials andIwasgrateful for thatnow.Shewastheone who’dreferredmetoWeston,whoIthoughtwastheownerofRebel Blue,butIdidn’tknow forsure.Whenyougoogleit again,stupidGoogle youonlygettheinformationthatit’sacattleranchandthatit’snearlyeightthousandacres.
IguessIcould’veaskedTeddy,butIdidn’twanttobugher She’ddoneenoughforme Ididn’tknowhowtoconceptualizeeightthousandacres. Fucking massive iswhatIwasthinking,whenIheardoneofthe oldmenatthebargivingthebartenderahardtime.
“Whatkindofbarrunsoutofice?”hegrowledincredulously
“Thekindthathasabunchofsadoldmenwhodrinkwhiskeylikewater,”thebartenderfiredback.Ilookedupatthem. The bartender had a small smile onhis face, so he couldn’tbe too upsetwiththe jabs. “Gus is bringingsome, so make that drinklastforthenexttenminutes”Hepointedattheglassinfrontoftheman,andthemanscoffedathim
Ifeltmyphonevibrateonthetableandpickeditup.
Teddy: Hey! Did you make it okay?
Me: Yeah just doing some prepbefore tomorrow.
Teddy: EXCELLENT
Teddy: This is going to be so fun.
Teddy: I’ll stopbythis week.
Teddy: Can’t wait for you to shine!
Isaw thatIalso had a textfrommybusiness partner, Evan he was the contractor and mymom, who was no doubt tellingmethatIwaswastingmytimeinWyoming.
MaybeIwas,butforsomereason,Ireallydidn’tthinkso Islidmyphonebackontothetableandflippeditfacedown.Ineededtofocus.Overthepastfourmonths,I’dexchanged hundreds of emails with Weston. We’d discussed his vision, we’d decided on timelines, crews, and costs. People always thoughtthattearingdownwallswasstepone,butitwasactuallylikestepthreehundred Iwasgoingover stepsonethrough twohundredandninety-ninewhenagiantballofwhitefluffappearedatmyfeet.
“Waylon!Goddammit,”Iheardthebartenderyell.IassumedWaylonwasthedogsittingatmyfeetandstaringupatme withhistonguehangingoutandacrazedlookinhiseyes.
Whatanangel
Ileaneddownandgavehimascratchonhisverysoftandfurryhead.Huh,lessthanafewhoursinMeadowlarkandthis placewaspullingsmilesoutofmeatarecord-settingrate.
“Seriously?”Iheardthebartenderwhine “Whothehellbringshisdogtoabar?”Ilookedupjustasamanwalkedinthe door.
Damn. WhatthehellweretheyputtinginthewaterinMeadowlark,Wyoming?
FromhereIcouldseethathewasn’tastallasthebartender,butclose HisopenflannelshirtcoveredawhiteT-shirtthat clungtohischest.Myeyesglidedoverhimuntiltheyhithisworn-outcowboyboots.
MaybeitwasbecauseI’dbeensurroundedbytechbrosinPatagoniavestsfortoolong,butthismanwasdoingsomething forme
Ibethe had roughhands Workinghands For a splitsecond, Iimagined whattheywould feel like ifhe dragged them acrossmybody.
Nope. No. Definitely not.
Do not gothere
We were notaboutto have fantasies aboutthe mysterycowboyinthe duskydive bar no matter how good-lookinghe was.
Iwashereto work
Igotsnappedbacktorealitybymynewfurryfriendlickingmyhands probablytastingtheelderlyDoritodust. Icouldn’thelpbutlistentotheexchangebetweenthebartenderandthecowboy.Eavesdroppingwasoneofmyfavorite hobbies “Whatkindofbarrunsoutofice?”thecowboyshotatthebartender Thegroupofoldmenwhoopedinagreement “Where’syourbrother?”thebartenderasked.
“Busy.”Thecowboyshruggedhisshoulders.
“Where’smyice?”
“Truck”
“Youcouldn’tbringitin?”
“Ifigured youcould do thatpart.” The bartender shookhis head butcame outfrombehind the bar and walked outthe door Itwasobviousthattherewassomesortofbondbetweenthesetwo Ididn’tthinktheywerebrothers theydidn’tlook alike buttherewassomething.
Notbrothers,butdefinitelybros.
“Getyourdog,”thebartendersaidonhiswayout “Please”
Thecowboy’seyesstartedscanningthebar probablylookingforhisdog butlandedrightonme.Me,whosehandwas currentlygettingathoroughlicking,andwhowasunashamedlyandunabashedlystaringatthecowboy.
Ishould’velookedaway,butIdidn’t
Icouldn’ttellwhatcolorhiseyeswerefromhere,butIwantedto
We stared ateachother for waylonger thanwas sociallyacceptable, and he flashed me a small smile thathinted ata dimpleoneithersideofhisface.
Notfuckingdimples
Thoseshouldbeillegal.
Oratleastrequiresomesortofwarningbeforeflashingthematpeople.
Warning: Dimples may appear and cause panty-dropping
It looked like he was about to start toward me, but our weird and intense stare-off was interrupted by the bartender puttinganicecubedownthebackofthecowboy’sshirt.
Hemadeadistinctlyunmanlynoisethatmademelaugh Everyone’shotandbadassuntilthere’sanicecubedowntheir shirt
“Brooks!Whatthehell!”heexclaimedanddidthislittleshimmythingashetriedtogetitout.Itwascute. Reallycute.
The bartender Brooks justlaughed as he made his waybackbehind the bar, bagofice inone hand, and said, “Get yourdog,andI’llletyoustayforadrink.”
Thecowboyadjustedhisshirtandranahandthroughhissandybrownhair.“Fine.”
Hetookasteptowardme,catchingmewithhisunrelentingeyecontactagain Whywashecomingtowardme? Awarmtonguelickedmyhandagain.
Oh. The dog. Right.
Ilookeddown,breakinghis stare Ihadto Icouldn’tbeheldresponsiblefor whatmighthappenifwemaintainedeye contactformuchlonger.Therewassomethingaboutit theconfidenceitcommunicated thatfeltelectric.
“Sorry about him.” His voice was close to me now. My fluffy companion wagged his tail as his owner’s footsteps approached.“He’sgotathingforbeautifulwomen.”Myeyessnappedup,andyetanothersmilewaspulledfromme,butthis onewasdirectedatthemanwhowasnowlessthantwostepsfromme
“Hasthatlineever workedfor you?”Isaidwithalaugh.Myvoicefeltforeign notquitecomfortable.Likewhenyou talkforthefirsttimeafterwakingup.
“Youtellme,”hesaid Hiseyeswerebright Andgreen So fuckinggreen
“Notbad,”Iresponded,“butIfeellikethedeliverycouldbeimproved” Therewasanotherflashofdimple.“Howso?”
“You’vegottomeanit,”Isaid.
Hisexpressionchanged Helookedconfused “OfcourseImeantit” Huh Hewassoconvincing MaybeifI’dhadbetter experienceswithmen,Iwould’vebelievedhim.
“Hey!”Brooks’svoicecutthroughourconversation,andthecowboylookedbackathim.“Bottleordraft?”
Instead ofanswering, the cowboylooked atmytable the iPad must’ve made itobvious Iwas workingonsomething, becauseinsteadoftryingtositorinserthimself,helookedathisdogandsaid:“Let’sletthebeautifulwomanwork,Waylon.” Waylon obeyed and went to his owner, whose eyes were back on me. “I’ll be at the bar when you’re done if you want company”
Wait Hewasn’tgoingtopressureme?Tryandmakehiswayintomyspace?Hewasjustgoingto…letmework? Damn.IguessmenwerebuiltdifferentinMeadowlark.
Thecowboygavemeonelastdimpledsmilebeforeturningbackforthebar.Mynewfriend,Waylon,followedhim. Iwatchedhimwalkaway,andittookeffortformetotearmygazeawayfromhisback
Tryingto get backontask, I shookmyhead a little like I was tryingto shake off everythought about the handsome stranger.
Itfeltgoodtobenoticedbyhim tobetheobjectofhisstare Rightaftermydivorce,myself-esteemhadbeenatanalltimelow.Evennow,morethanayearlater,itwasn’tgreat.
SoIcouldn’tdenythatIlikedsomeonelookingatmelikeIwastheonlypersonintheroom.
Myex-husbandhadneverlookedatmelikethat
Now that wasatrainofthoughtIwasnotdealingwithtoday.IpusheditdownandwentbacktomyiPad,andnoticeda newemailfromtheownerofRebelBlue.
Ada, I hope your drive was okay and everything went smoothly Excited to meet you and get started tomorrow Best, WR
Sent from Mobile
Ilookedatthetime:10:32 P.M.AcoupleofhourshadpassedsinceIarrivedatthebar.IwasmeetingWestonatnine-thirty,so
Ireallyneededtogetbacktomymotelsoon Istartedbackinonmywork,makingsureIwasn’tmissinganyimportantfiles orinformationthatIneededtoreviewwithWestontomorrow.
Once Igotintoa groove,itwas easier nottothinkaboutthe cowboysittingatthe bar,butIcouldn’tshake the thought entirely EverytimeIlookedup,hiseyeswereonme Againandagainwemadeeyecontactforasecondtoolong,andthenI wouldgetbacktowork
Itwasaseeminglyharmlesscycle,butitwasgettingmeallkeyedup.
I didn’t quite know why, but I was…drawn to him. The way he joked with the bartender, the old men at the bar occasionallyslappinghimontheback,andhowhekeptonehandonhisdog allmademewonderwhothismanwasandwhat hewaslikeinthelightofday.
Iwascurious.
That’swhyIdidit
Atleastthat’swhatIwouldtellmyselflater.
Igottomystoppingpointinmywork,gatheredupmystuff,andsliditintomytotebag.Ididn’tneedtolookuptoknow thathiseyeswereonme,butIlookedupanyway justashetookaswigofhisbeer Westaredateachother againas Istoodup.His eyes followedme,andIhopedthathis bodywouldtoo.Ihadnoidea whatcameoverme,butIdidn’twanttofightit.
IbrokeeyecontactwhenIgotclosertothedoor,butasIwalked,Icouldfeelhiseyesonmyback.Insteadofwalkingout thedoor,Iturneddownthehallwayrightbeforeit
Ada, what the fuck are you doing?
Areyouactuallyinvitingastrangertofollowyoudownadarkhallwayinadingydivebar?Isthatwhatyou’redoing? Yeah,that’swhatIwasdoing IstoppedwhenIreachedadoorhalfwaydownthehallandleanedagainstit.Waitingtoseeifhewouldcometome. Hedid.
Hisshadowappearedintheentrytothehall,andmyheartkickedatmyribcagelikeitwastryingtoescape Icouldfeelhisfootstepsasheapproachedme,becauseashewascomingtowardme,theworldthatIknewwasshaking andcrumblingtomakewayforhim.
Forsomethingnew
Hestoppedafewstepsfromme,andhisgreeneyescutthroughthedark Theywereheatedastheydrankmein butalso concerned,maybe?
Thatmadetwoofus.
“Youokay?” the stranger asked,notlettingme breakhis gaze Hewas close now,soIhadtocrane mynecktolookat him.Isteppedtowardhimandnodded.Ididn’ttrustmyvoice.Itwouldgivemeaway.ItwouldtellhimthatIwasn’tokayand whateverthistrancewasthatbothofuswereinwouldsnap.
Ididn’twantthat Iwantedsomethingnew Iwantedhim themanwholookedatmelikeIwasworthlookingat.
“Areyousure ”IcuthimoffwhenIfistedmyhandsinhisshirt,pusheduponmytoes,andhauledhismouthdownto mine
He was still,stunned,butonlyfor a secondbefore he broughtone handuptocupmyface andthe other totwistinmy hair.
Yes, Ithought I need this Hishandagainstmyfacewasrough,justasIthoughtitwouldbe,buthewassoft likehewas savoringthis.
Mymouthmovedagainsthis,andhedraggedthehandthatwasagainstmyfacedownthesideofmybodytogripmyhip. Hishandleftatrailofelectricitybehind.ItwaslikeIcouldfeeltheaircracklingallaroundme.
Ineededtobeclosertohim
Idropped mybagand wrapped myhands around his neckjustas he pushed me backagainstthe door witha delicious amountofforce.Ithoughtmyheadwasgoingtoknockagainstthedoor,butthehandthatwasinmyhaircuppedthebackofmy head,makingsureIdidn’thitit Thenheusedthathandtogripbothofmyhandsandpinthemabovemyhead
Ourbodieswereflushedandourtonguestangled.Whenhegentlynippedatmybottomlip,Icouldn’thelpbutmoanand hopethatthesoundwasdrownedoutbythejukebox.
Hisotherhandtraveledfrommyhiptomyass,andheslidhishandintothebackpocketofmyjeans “Isthisokay?”he askedagainstmymouth.
“More,”Ibreathed.Hegrippedmyass.Hard.
“Fuck,whoareyouandwhatareyoudoingtome?”hegroaned Myhipsrolledinvoluntarily,needingmore,andIcould feelhisharddickunderhisjeans WhenwasthelasttimeI’dturnedsomeoneon?Whenwasthelasttime I’d beenturnedon?
Aloudcoughcamefromtheendofthehallway,andbothofusfroze.Ilookedupatthecowboy,whokepthiseyesonme beforedroppingmyhandsandturningtoaddressourintruder.
“Ineedtogetintomyoffice ifyoudon’tmind”ItwasBrooks Thebartender Hesoundedlikehewassmiling,butI didn’tlookathimtoconfirm.Mycheekswerehot,andIwantedtocrawlunderarockandnevercomeout.
Thiswassostupid.Iwassostupid.
Ialwaysdidthis Nomatterhow hardItried,Icouldn’ttotallygetridofthatpartofmethatthrivedonrash,impulsive decisions. Impulsive decisions themselves weren’tthe problem. I’msure some people made greatones, butIwasn’tone of them.WhenImadeanimpulsivedecision,Iusuallyendeduppayingforitforawhiletocome myfailedmarriagebeingthe primeexampleofthisAdanomenon
“But you guys are welcome to continue against the other wall,” the bartender continued Oh god This was so embarrassing.Icouldn’ttakeit.
SoIdidwhatI’dcometoWyomingtodo.
Iran
Wes
IstaredatthebagonthekitchencounterintheBigHouse.Itwasmyonlytangibleproofthatlastnighthadactuallyhappened myownglassslipperorsomeshit
Thewomanfromthebarwasheavyonmymind.Ihadn’tsleptatall.Iwasawakeallnightwonderingabouther.
Whowasshe?
Wheredidshecomefrom?
Whydidn’tIgoafterheraftershekissedme?
Brookswastheanswertothatlastone.Aftersheranoff,BrooksstoodinthehallwayoftheDevil’sBoot,blockingme, withastupidcockysmirkonhisface.
“Honestly, the shit I find in this hallway stopped surprising me a long time ago,” he had said “But this? This was unexpected.”
“Shut up,” I said. Not caring that he’d just seen me with a woman pressed up against the door, getting more fucking desperatebythesecond
“Doyouevenknowhername?”he’dasked.No,Ididn’tknowhername.
ButIreallyfuckingwantedto.
“Isweartogod,ifyoutellEmmyaboutthis,Iwillpunchyouintheface,”Itoldhim EventhoughIwouldn’t Butitwas theonlythreatIcouldthinkofatthetime.Lightinghimonfirefelttooaggressive.Ialsoknewhewasabsolutelygoingtotell Emmy.
Ididn’tthinkthosetwohadasinglesecretbetweenthematthispoint
“I’vealreadybeenpunchedinthefacebyaRyder thatdoesn’tscareme”Ithoughtbacktowhenmyolderbrother,Gus, hadpunchedBrooksinthefacewhenhefoundoutthathimandour littlesister,Emmy,hadbeensneakingaroundbehindour backs.
BrooksandGuswerebestfriends,sothesoundofthatpunchwasprobablyheardaroundMeadowlark Ittookaminute, buttheyweregoodnow.EventhoughIknewGusstillfeltprettydamnguiltyaboutit.
“Onthatnote,don’ttellGuseither.”ThelastthingIneededwasmysiblingsribbingmeaboutgettingcaughtmakingout withagirlinabarlikeIwasahornytwenty-one-year-oldkid
“Allright,I’llmakeyouadeal.”Hissmirkgotbigger.“I’llonlytellEmmy,andshe’llprobablytellGus.” “Howthehellisthatadeal?”Iasked.
“BecauseIwon’ttellhim”
“You are so annoying, you know that?” He just shrugged At that point, I grabbed the woman’s bag off the floor, not knowingwhatIwasgoingtodowithit,butIdidn’twanttoleaveitthere. Sohereitwasonmykitchentable.
AndIstilldidn’tknowwhatthefucktodowithit IcouldaskEmmy.OrTeddy.
Actuallyscratchthat,definitelynotTeddy.Iwouldnever hear theendofit.Emmywouldletitgoafter awhile.Teddy wouldbringitupatmyfuneral Teddywasmysister’sbestfriendandhadbeensinceTeddy’sdadmovedhertoMeadowlark when she was only a few months old. She was a notorious shit-giver, which I enjoyed when her sights were set on other people,butIdidn’tneedhercomingafterme.
Amemoryofthewaythemysterywomanhadclutchedatmyshirtflashedthroughmymind Shewasso bold Itwasfuckinghot.
AndthewayshemoanedwhenIbitherlip?Goddamn.Imight’vegottencarriedaway,buteverythinginthatmomentjust feltso good Thebasslinecomingfromthejukebox,thedimhallway,myhandonherass.
Ifeltmyjeanstighten
Get your head in the game, Ryder. You have a big day. You can’t be having spontaneous boners. Mydreamswerebecomingrealitytoday.Justtobeclear,mydreamswerenotthespontaneousboners.
ItwastechnicallyDayOneofProjectRebelBlueGuestRanch I’dbeenreferringtoitinmyheadasProjectBabyBlue, butIwasn’taboutto tell anyone that. Eventhoughitwas DayOne ofthe designer, Ada, beingon-site, we’d beenworking togetherthroughemailssinceOctober.
Ilookedattheclockontheoven avoidinglookingatthebagagain Halfpastsix IhadagoodthreehoursbeforeAda wassupposedtoarrive.Ihadafeelingitwasgoingtobethelongestthreehoursofmylife.
I’dbeenwaitingallwinter,andnowIwasinthehomestretch.
We had a bunchofcattle near the entrance ofRebel Blue, so this morning, some ofthe ranchhands and Iwould drive themtoanotherspot AtleastIwouldn’tbespendingthenextfewhourssittingonmyasswaiting Theanticipationwaskillingme.
Whenmydad and Gus had finallyagreed to the guest ranch, it’d felt like more thanjust themtrustingme witha big responsibility
Itfeltliketheysawme.
BetweenGus,thehard-assbutalsodedicated,efficient,andhardworkingoldestson,andEmmy,thefiercebutalsokind andcaringchampionbarrelracer,itfelteasytogetlost Ididn’thaveanidentifierliketheydid IwasjustWes.
Andthatwasfine.Ididn’tmind,butIwasstillexcitedtohavesomethingthatwasmine. Iheardthefloorboardsbehindmesqueak
“Howareyoufeelingabouttoday?”AmosRyder’sgravellyvoicecamefrombehindme
“Good,”Isaid.“Itfeelsweirdthatit’sfinallyhere.”Mydadroundedthekitchencounterandstoodacrossfrommenow. HewaswearinghisclassicWranglersandcottonbutton-down.Beforehestartedwork,healwaysrolledthecuffsofhis shirtupsoyoucouldseethefadedswallowtattoosonhisforearms
“Whattimeisthedesignergettinghere?”heasked.
“Nine-thirty.Areyoucomingbackhere,ordoyouwanttomeetusatthesite?”Iasked.
“I’llmeetherhere,”hesaidashetookasipofhiscoffee withoutlettingitcool Ididn’tknowhowhedrankitwhenit wasstillscalding.“Thisisyourproject,Weston.Youdon’tneedmetobeatthesite.Youcandothis.”
IftherewasonethingthatAmosRyderalwaysdid,itwasbelieveinhiskids.AndBrooks,too,Iguess.Andwedidn’t evendoanythingtoearnhisunconditionalsupportforus Hejustdidit Imean,Iguessthat’showsomeparentswere Butstill Iwasfuckingterrifiedoflettinghimdown.
Irubbedahanddownmyface.“Iknow.It’sjust ”Ipausedforasecond,tryingtothinkhowtowordmythoughts.I’d alwaysbeensecondincommand third,ifweweregettingtechnical.IlivedinGus’sshadow,knowingthathewouldendup runningtheranchoneday I’dneverdoneanythingonmyown “It’sabigdeal”iswhatIsettledon Mydadnodded.IthinkheunderstoodthepartIwasn’tsaying.“What’sthat?”heasked,gesturingtowardthebagonthe counter.
Ididn’treallywanttotellmydadhowthebagcametobeinmypossession,soIjustsaid,“Afriendleftitatthebarlast night.”
Amosraisedhiseyebrowsinquestion.“Afriend?”
Iswallowed “Yeah Ibroughtithome because Ididn’twantittoenduppermanentlysmellinglike cigarette smoke,” I saidnonchalantly,Ihoped.
Mydad’seyesnarrowed,justalittle,beforeheshookhisheadandtookanothersipofhiscoffee.“Allthreeofyouneed togetbetteratlying”
I’ve made a lot of stupid decisions in my life really stupid decisions so you’d think that I’d understand that stupid decisionshaveconsequences
For example: If youchoose to marryanasshole, your marriage is goingto suck. If youchoose to eat nothingbut old Doritosfordinner,you’reprobablygoingtowakeuphungry.Andthisismynewfavorite:Ifyouimpulsivelydecidetokissa strangerinaWyomingdivebar,youwillloseyouriPad
Whichyouneed Foryourjob Thatyoustarttoday
Excellent.
NowIhadtoshowupforthefirstdayofmybiggestjobtodatewithoutmyplanner,renderings,colorschemes,product spreadsheets,andbasicallyeverythingelseIneeded BecausenotonlydidIleavemytoteatabarafterkissingastranger,Ileft itatabarthatdoesn’tevenhaveaphonenumber.Whichhonestlyfeelskindofillegal.
ButthewhiffofcigarettesmokecomingfrommyhairtoldmetheDevil’sBootdidn’tcaretoomuchaboutthelegalityof havingaphonenumber
So notonlywould Ilooklike anidiotonmyfirstday, Iwould also have to returnto the scene ofthe crime and risk runningintothehandsomecowboystranger,whichwouldleadmetoanotherstupiddecision.
Becausegoddamn
I could not get that kiss out of my head. I dreamed about what would’ve happened if the bartender hadn’t caught us. Would he have keptgoing? Inmydream, he slid his roughhands under myshirtand dragged themup and downmybody. I undidhisbelt.Heliftedmeofftheground.Iwrappedmylegsaroundhismiddle.Hepinnedmeagainstthewalland “DoubleshotvanillalatteforAda!”Thebarista’svoiceshookmefrommyinappropriatenine AM fantasy
Right.Coffee.That’swhatIwasdoing.Notgettingpressedupagainstthewallbyahotcowboyinaduskydivebar. Whichwasabummer,butprobablyforthebest.
Iwentuptothecounter,pickedupmylatte,andnoddedaquickthank-youtothebarista Shelookedatmeforjustalittle toolong likeshecouldn’tfigureoutwhyIwashere.Theeyesinthecoffeeshopalsolingeredonmealittletoolong.Itwas likeIwaswearingagiantneonsignthatsaid NOT FROMHERE.
Ineverrealizedhow grateful Iwasfordrive-thrucoffeeplacesuntil thismoment,butevensoIhadtoadmitthisplace wascute.Also,itwascalledtheBean?Needlesslyadorable.
Once Igot backoutside, Isnapped a quickpicture ofmycoffee cup withthe mountains as a backdrop to post onmy socialswiththecaption“Day1 Newprojectcomingsoon”
I started @homeiswherethehartis after failing out of my interior design program Honestly, I wasn’t really built for school.Startingmyownbusinesshelpedmerealizethatthatwasokay thatjustbecauseIwasn’tgoodatschooldidn’tmeanI couldn’tbeagooddesignerandthatIcouldlearnmytradeinadifferenttypeofclassroom.
Whatstartedasvolunteeringtodeclutterandorganizepeople’sclosetshadturnedintosomethingthatIwasproudof ToobadIwastheonlyoneinmylifewhowas.
Still, the communityIbuiltonmyprofile was one ofmyfavorite things. There were people outthere who didn’teven knowmewholikedtofollowalongonmyprojects
AndIhadafeelingthisonewasgoingtobloweverythingelseI’ddoneoutofthewater.
Myred1993HondaCivicwaswaitingformeintheparkinglot.Honestly,Iwassurprisedshe’dmadeittoWyomingin one piece Ishould’ve had more faithinher After mydivorce, she was the onlycar Icould afford She had her flaws The power steering fluid leaked, so I had to refill it once a week if I wanted to be able to steer. She also didn’t have airconditioning.Butshewastheonlythingthathadneverletmedown.Isatinthedriver’sseatandpulledupthemaptoRebel Blueonmyphone ThankgoodnessI’dkeptthatinmypocketandnotputitinmytote Ididn’tquiteknowhowIwasgoingto approachthedaywithoutmyiPad,butatthispoint,Ididn’thaveachoice.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, Ada. Andyourstupidprizeislookinglikeanidiotonthefirstdayofyournewjob. GoogleMapssaidthatRebelBluewasabouttwentyminutesfromthetowncenter.Itwasnineo’clock,soIwasrunning rightontime
Youwouldnevercatchmegoinganywherewithoutatleastaten-minutebuffer. Honestly,I’dpreferfifteen,butthecoffeewasanecessarystop.
Itookaquicksecondtolookatmyselfintherearviewmirror ThefirstthingInoticedwasthatIlookedtired Thedark circlesundermyeyeswerenotdoingmeanyfavors.
Rebel Blue Ranch, here I come.
I grew up in California, so I wasn’t a stranger to the mountains, but I’d never seen mountains like these before My mountainsweremostlydry,dull,andbrown.Plus,I’dgrownupinthesuburbsofSanFrancisco notintheheartoftheWild West.ThewindingroadsthatledmetoRebelBluewerecarvedintowhatfeltliketheentrancetoanotheruniverse.Itwasthe beginningofApril,sotherewasstillagoodamountofsnowpackedontothemountains,especiallythehigherupIlooked The starkwhiteofthesnowagainstthebigblueskywasincredible
IsworetheWyomingblueskywaswaybiggerthantheCaliforniaone.
My favorite spots were the places where the snow had melted enough that you could see the greens and browns underneath Itfeltlikeapromise thatnowintercouldlastforever
Damn, it was crazy what these mountains were doing to me. One beautiful view, and I was contemplating my entire existence.EventhoughIfeltsmall,themomentfelt…big.Reallybig.
“In point five miles, turn left,” Siri’s voice blared through the speaker, and I trained my eye on the left side of the mountainroad,lookingfortheentrance.Ididn’tknowifitwouldbeclearlymarkedorifitwouldappearoutofnowhere.
After a minute or two, Isaw a massive woodenarchand gate. “Arch” wasn’tthe rightword itwas more like three sidesofasquarewithagateatthebottom Islowedthecarandpulledofftheroad,comingtoastopinfrontofit Nearthetop ofthesquare,bigironlettersspelledout REBEL BLUE RANCH Abovethat,burnedintothewood,wasanoutlineofwhatIthought wasprobablyabullskull.Orasteer?Isthatwhatitwascalled?
Thegatewasopen,andbeyonditwasadirtroadthatseemedtogoonforever.Ilookeddownatmyphone.Theaddress thatWestonhadgivenmewasapparentlyaboutamileuptheroad
Ireallyhopedmycar’sshockswouldmakeit.Iliftedmyfootoffthebrake,tookadeepbreath,andcrossedthethreshold intoRebelBlue.
Here we go
For some reason, it didn’t occur to me that a cattle ranch would have so many cows. In theory, I knew there would obviouslybecows WhatIdidn’tknow is thatabunchofthemwouldbeblockingtheroadtoRebel Blue’s BigHouse, whichiswhatWestoncalleditintheemail.
Ishould’vegivenmyselfafifteen-minutebuffer.
Don’tgetmewrong,Ilovecows Iamafirmbelieverthatifyoupassthemwhileyou’redriving,you’relegallyobligated topointatthemandsay“Cows!”Butthat’stheonlywayI’veeverseenacow throughthecarwindow,inafield,faraway
NowthecowsandIwereupcloseandpersonal.Theywereswarmingmycarlikebeesatahive.Ididn’tknowhowit happened orwhattodonow.Mywindowswererolleddown,andIfiguredIwouldstartwithjustaskingthemtomove.
“Could youguys please move?” Isaid loudly “Ireallyneed to getthrough” Ihonked myhornonce to emphasize my point.
Nothing.
IfIslowlymovedforward,wouldtheygetoutoftheway?OrwouldIaccidentallybecomeacowmurderer?CouldIkill acowgoingonemileperhour?OrwouldIjustinjureit?WouldIhavetopaythevetbill?Icouldn’taffordthevetbillfora cow.
AndwhatifIhitmorethanone?
Oh god
Ilookedatmyphone.Itwas9:25.IthoughtthatIcouldreverseandgoaround,butthatideawentoutthewindowwhenI lookedthroughmyrearviewmirrorandsawmorecows.
All right, Ada, these cows are standing between you and your future How are you going to get through?
Iscrambledfor myphone,whichwaspluggedintomyauxcord well,oneofthosetapethingsthathadanauxcord quicklyfoundmyearly2000splaylist,andcrankedupthevolume.
Withinafewseconds,“MoveBitchGetOutdaWay”waspumpingthroughmyspeakers Thiswasgoingtowork Ifthey wouldn’tlistentome,theymightlistentoLudacris.
Iputbothhands onthewheel,readytospeedthroughtheopeningthatwouldinevitablyappear oncethecows realized whatIneeded Iwasready.
But…nothinghappened.
Iwasstillstuckandnow Ilookedatmyphoneagain officiallylate Idroppedmyheadontothesteeringwheelandletoutahuff Thelasttwelvehourshadreallynotbeengreatforme Ikeptmyheaddown,contemplatingmyentireexistence,untilIheardavoice. Aman’svoice.Anditwasn’tLudacris.
Ipeeledmyforeheadoffmysteeringwheelandsawtwomencomingmywayonhorseback Therewasalsoawhiteballoffluffwiththem.
Thecowboywhowasonagray-and-whitedappledhorsecameclosertomydriver’s-sidewindow,andIquicklyturned mymusicdown Ireallyhopedhewasheretogetthecowsoutofmyway
WhenIlookedupathim,Iwasmetwiththesamegreeneyesthathadcapturedmeatthebarlastnight. Myeyeswentwide.“Oh,fuck”slippedfrommymouthbeforeIknewwhatIwassaying.
Iwas metwiththoselicense-to-kill dimples thatwereevenmoreperfectinthelightofday Inmyhead,hehadbeena cowboybecauseIwasinWyomingandhewaswearingcowboyboots.Itdidn’toccurtomethathewas actually acowboy. Butthemaninfrontofmewasacowboythroughandthrough downtothebrownhatandleatherchaps.
Andthehorse
Obviously.
“Fancyseein’youhere,” he drawled. Mymouthwentdry. Whatwere the chances thatthe one time Imake outwitha stranger,heturnsouttoworkontheranchthat’salsothesiteofmyproject?“We’llgettheseguysoutofyourway.”Hepaused. The other cowboywas workingonthe cows, whohad started tomove awayfrommycar Theywere takingtheir sweet-ass time, but at least theywere moving. The white ball of fluff, whichI now recognized as Waylon the dog that got me into troubleinthefirstplace wasalsocontributing.“Wedon’tgetalotofvisitorsthisway areyoulookingforsomething?”
Silencewasnolongeranoption “I I’mheretomeetwithWestonRyder,”Istammered “Istartworkheretoday”
Thecowboy’ssmilewidened.HewaslookingatmelikeheknewsomethingIdidn’t,anditmademeuneasy. “You’reAdaHart?”heasked.
ApparentlythewholeranchknewIwascoming “Yeah,”Isaidshakily “You’vegotaboutaquarterofamileuntilyougettotheBigHouse.I’llmeetyouupthere.”Hetippedhiscowboyhatat me,andashiverwentdownmyspine.
Myattractiontohimclearlywasn’tdulledbythedaylight
BeforeIcouldrespond,hestartedshoutingtotheothercowboyandmovinghishorsearoundthecar Itriednottowatch him triednottonoticethewayhisglovedhandstuggedonthereinsorhowhislegstightenedaroundhishorse’smiddle.
Afterafewminutes,thecowshadmovedfromthepathandIwasintheclear.Thecowboygavemeanod,andItookthat asmycuetocontinuedrivingdownthedirtroad
Leavingthecowboyinthedust…fornow.Ididn’tknowwhy he hadtomeetmeattheBigHouse.Therewasnowayhe wastheowner hecouldn’tbemorethanthirty.
Didthatmatter?
Ididn’tknowanythingaboutranches.Whyhadn’tIwatchedmore Heartland?
Inmyhead,Itriedtoworkoutaplan.IwouldgettotheBigHouse,talktoWeston,andthenatsomepointIwouldfind thecowboyagainandtellhimitwasaone-timething
Allitwasevergoingtobewasaone-timething
Lastnight, Iwasn’tmyself. Iwas tired, hungry, nervous, and faced withthe world’s cutestpair ofdimples. The entire thingwasanout-of-bodyexperiencethatwouldneverhappenagain.
Ever
Icameheretogetawayfrommyproblems notgivemyselfnewones.
IfIwasn’tsokeyedupoverthecowboy,IprobablywouldhavebeenmoreawestruckbyRebelBlueRanch.“Beautiful” didn’tadequatelydescribethelandscapesurroundingme
Honestly,itwasfuckingmajestic likeapaintingcometolife.I’dneverseenanythinglikeit. ButIhadotherthingsonmymind.Green-eyedthingswithdimples.
AsIgotclosertotheBigHouse,thetreesgotdenser,untilIsaw alargeranch-stylelogcabininthedistance whichI assumed was the BigHouse. There was a loop thatcreated a sortofdriveway, and Iparked mycar close to the frontdoor. Thereweren’tanyothercarsintheloop,soIfigureditwasokay.
NowthatI’dstoppedthecar,myheartpickedupthepace.Itwasfirst-dayjitters.ItwasI’m-not-good-enoughjitters,and itwasalsodimpled-cowboyjitters
WhenIranoutofthebarlastnight,Ialmostregrettedit.
NowIneededtogetasfarawayfromthatmanaspossible.Ididn’twanthim,hisdimples,orhiscute-assdoganywhere nearme
Right then, as if summoned bymythoughts, the white ball of fluff appeared inmyperipheral vision I looked at him throughmywindow.Histonguewashangingoutandhistailwaswaggingsohardhisentirebodywaswigglingwithit.
Whydidhisdoghavetobesocute?Heshouldn’tgettohaveacutedogand dimples.
Igotoutofmycar,andWaylonwasready Hecontinuedtowigglehisentirebody,andIreacheddowntoscratchbehind hisears.Ishould’vekeptmyeyesonthedog,butIlookedupjustintimetowatchDimplesrideuptothehouse.
Whenhebroughthishorsetoahalt,IlookedbackdownatWaylonandthoughthowstrangeitwasthatIknewthisdog’s name Ievenknewthebartender’sname butIhadnoideawhatthecowboy’snamewas
MaybeIcouldgetawaywithneverknowingit.I’dbeokaywiththat.
I heard the no-name cowboy’s boots hit the dirt, but I kept myeyes onthe dog I didn’t want to make anymore eye contactwiththismanthanwasnecessary
Prolongedeyecontactiswhatgotmeintothismess.
“We canhead in,” he said, thengave a shortclickofhis tongue. Waylonleftmidpetand wentto his owner, who was waitingformebythefrontdoor.Hehadwrappedhishorse’sreinsaroundapostafewcarlengthsaway,whichIwashappy about
Ilovedanimals,buthorsesscaredtheshitoutofme theyweresobig.
AsIapproachedthefrontdoor,CowboyJohnDoeopeneditandWaylonraninside.BothWaylonandhisownerwereso atease theymustbeherealot Irealizedthathewasholdingthedooropenforme,soIscurriedpasthim,beingcarefulnotto lookhimintheeye.
Onceinside,Itookalookaround.Forsomereason,Ithoughtitwouldfeelmorelikeabusiness,butIwasimmediately struckbyhowcozyitfelt
Thiswasahome.
Therewasaplaceforcoatsandshoesnearthefrontdoor.Therewereevenspecialhooksforcowboyhats.
Theentrywasopen,andIcouldseedownawidehallwaytoalivingroomandkitchen Thehousesmelledlikepiecrust, cedar,andleatherconditioner notacombinationthatIwouldeverputtogether,butinhereitwasperfect Iftheyeverwanted tosellthis,theywouldn’thavetousethecookies-in-the-oventrickbecausethisplacesmelledlikehomeallonitsown.
“Mydadiswaitingforusinthekitchen.”Hisvoicecamefrombehindme.Iknewhewasclose.Thesameelectricitythat surroundedusinthebarwashummingnow Italmostdistractedmefromwhathesaid
Hisdad?
Thatexplainedwhyhewassocomfortable.HisdadwasWeston,theowneroftheranch.Igroanedinwardly.Hopefully hissondidn’thavemuch ifanything todowiththeproject
TheCowboyHeirwalkedpastmeanddownthehallway,andIfollowed tryingtopullmyselftogetherandsliponthe maskofprofessionalismthatwasnormallyapermanentfixtureonmyface especiallyinsituationslikethis.
I didn’t like that this man had unnerved me made me unsteady I didn’t want anyone to have the power to do that anymore,letaloneastranger
Averynicestrangerwho’dleftmealonewhenIneededtoworkandkissedthehelloutofmeafterward,butastranger nonetheless.
WhenI walked into the kitchen, there was anolder man probablyinhis midsixties doinga newspaper crossword puzzleatthelongoaktable.Hewaswearingfadedbluejeansandabutton-downshirtwiththesleevesrolledup.Icouldsee fadedtattoos,butIcouldn’ttellwhattheywere.
His salt-and-pepper hair was longish itcurledathis neck anditmatchedhis neatlytrimmedsalt-and-pepper beard He looked up atus, and itwas obvious thathe was related to mymysterycowboy. Theydidn’tlookverymuchalike just enoughthatyouknew theybelongedinthesamefamilytree.WhenIsaw him,Ifelt…calm,likeI’djustfoundshelter froma storm
All right, Ada Get your game face on
Themanstoodupandsaid,“YoumustbeAdaHart.We’rehappytohaveyou.”Hestretchedouthishand,andItookit.
“Thankyouso muchfor havingme. It’s a pleasure to meetyou, Mr. Ryder,” Isaid, tryingto keep myvoice level and failingnottothinkaboutthefactthatIcouldfeelsomeoneelse’seyesonme
“CallmeAmos,please.”Amos?WhothehellwasAmos?WherewasWeston?
Ipaused for justa beattoo long. “It it’s a pleasure to meetyou,” Istammered. Greatfirstimpression, Ada. “Sorry, I wasjustexpectingtomeetWeston,sincewe’vebeenincontact”Amos’seyesshiftedtothecowboybehindme,andacrease
appearedbetweenhiseyebrows Washeconfused?Well,thatmadetwoofus. Thecowboybehindmeclearedhisthroat.“I’mWeston,”hesaid. HadIheardhimright?No No No Absolutelynot Thiscouldnotbehappeningtome “ButmostpeoplecallmeWes.”
Wes
Holyshit.Thewomanfromthebarwasstandinginmyhouse.Notonlythat,shealsohappenedtobethewomanI’dbeen waitingforallwinter theonewhowasgoingtoturnmydreamintoareality
Holyshit
“I’mWeston,”Isaid justthenrealizingthatIhadn’tintroducedmyselfearlier.Ididn’tknowwhy.MaybeIjustfeltlike shealreadyknewme “ButmostpeoplecallmeWes”
Iwouldsaythatitwasahellofacoincidence,butIdidn’treallybelieveinthose.
I’dthoughtshewasastunnerintheDevil’sBoot,andIthoughtshewasastunnernow.Herwavyblackhairhitjustabove hercollarbone.Shewaswearinglooseblackjeansandatightlong-sleevedblackT-shirt whichwaswaytoothinforAprilin themountains andherbrowneyeswerelookingeverywherebutatme
Ididn’tknowhowtoprocessthefactthatIwantedhertolookatme.Iwantedtoholdhergazeagain,likeIdidatthebar, untilweendedupinthesameplacewewerelastnight caughtupineachother.
“I’msorrymysonhasbadmanners,MissHart”Mydad’svoicecutthroughmythoughts “Butwe’rethrilledtohaveyou here.”HeshotapointedlookatmeasiftosayThis is your thing, Weston. Pull your weight. Right.
Focus
“Do you wanna sit?” I asked, and gestured toward the table. “We can go over…uh…everything.” Well, maybe not everything. I made my way past her and pulled out a chair for her across from where my dad was sitting. She looked apprehensivebutsatdownanyway
“I’m sorry,” she said “I misplaced my iPad last night left it somewhere so I had to write everything down in a notebook,andImight’vemissedsomething.I’mgoingtograbittonight,soisitokayifwemeettomorrow?Ireallyapologize.”
Shewastalkingtomydad,notme,butthedisappointment inherself thatIcouldhearinhervoicetriggeredasmall panginmychest
Iguess there was a reasonI’d grabbed her bagoffthe floor ofthe bar lastnight. Instead ofsitting, Iwentover to the kitchencounterandgrabbedthecanvastote,thencamebacktothetableandplaceditgentlyinfrontofher.
Adalookedupatme,browneyeswide Irubbedatthebackofmyneckandexplained,“ThingsthatgetleftattheDevil’s Bootmightaswellgetsuckedintoablackhole nevertobeseenagain.”
Itore myeyes fromher and looked atmydad. Ihated thatthis was happeningunder his gaze, buthis expressionwas blank Hiseyeswerenarrowedalittlebit,butthatwashisonlytellthatthewheelsinhisheadwereturning
Themanalwayscleanedhouseathisstandingpokergame,anditwaseasytoseewhy
“Uh thankyou?”shesaid,likeshedidn’tquiteknow how toreact IfIwereher,Iwouldn’tknow how toreacteither Earlier,Ithoughtthiscould’vebeenaglassslipperscenario,butnowthatthesituationwasunfolding,Ifeltkindofcreepyfor takingherbag.
That’sprobablywhatshewasthinking thatIwasfuckingcreepy
“Ididn’tlookinitor anything Ijustdidn’twantittogetruined.Iknow the bar owner,andhe was goingtohelpme trackyoudowntoreturnit.”
Shenoddedslowly,stillunsure
“Funny how things work out, isn’t it?” That was my dad. He was smiling a bit now always so fucking observant. “WestonisrightabouttheDevil’sBoot it’swherethingsgotodisappear peopleincluded.”Adapushedoutalaugh.
“Thisisgreat,”shesaid Itseemedlikeshewasstartingtofindherfooting Icouldalmostseeamaskslippingoverher features whatkindofmask,Ididn’tknow,butdamn,Iwantedtofindout.“Thankyou,”shesaidtome.“Yousavedmeatrip downthatdirtroad.Idon’tthinkmycarwould’vesurvived.”AsIsatdown,Adareachedintothebagandpulledouthertablet andstylus.
“So,normallyIstartbymakingsure thatIanswer anyquestions aboutthe contracts Iknow you’ve signedthem” she lookedatmeandthenatmydad “but,Amos,doyouhaveanyquestions?”
“No.WestonandIreviewedthemwithourlawyerbeforesigning,andeverythinglooksgreat.”Camwashelpinguswith thelegalstuff Mydadhadhadanotherlawyerforyears,buthehadasoftspotformyniece’smom Shewasfamily,andAmos Rydertookthatseriously.
She hadn’tyetpassed the bar examwhenshe reviewed the contracts, butshe’d takenitinFebruaryand there was no doubtinanyofourmindsthatshewould Herresultswouldprobablycomeanydaynow
“That’sgreat,”Adaresponded.Shesoundedmoreconfident,moreprofessionalnow.Likeshewasgettingintoagroove. “So, we’ll finishup anydemo that you’ve alreadystarted, thenwe’ll start withthe largest undertakings: the kitchen, living spaces, and bathrooms Once we finish those, we’ll start on the bedrooms and the exterior at the same time If all goes accordingto plan, we should finishup byJune fifteenth, butthe end date onthe contractis Julyfirstbecause the onlything that’severcertaininarenovationisthatsomethingwillgowrong.”Adalaughedalittle.
IfIhadn’theardherreallaughatthebarlastnight,itwould’vebeenbelievable.Butthislaughwaspracticed,calculated.
“Mycontractor,Evan,willbearrivingtomorrow He’llhelpmanagetheprojectandthelocalcrews”IknewaboutEvan hewasincludedinsomeoftheemails,andI’dcoordinatedhisextendedstayatthePoppyMallowInnjustoutsideoftown buthearinghisnamefallfromherlipsnowmademynostrilsflare.
Whatthefuck?No,Ididnotgettobejealousofanotherman’snameonherlipswhenI’dknownherforlessthantwelve hours.Thatwasassholebehavior,andItriedreallyfuckinghardnottobeanasshole.
“IemailedEvan’saccommodationreservationtobothofyoulastweek,soheshouldbegoodtogowhenhearrives,”I said,tryingtobehelpful
“Speakingof accommodations,” mydad chimed in, “Ada, I know yousaid that youpreferred to stayon-site for long projectswhenpossible.”Adanodded.Wherewasmydadgoingwiththis?I’dalreadypreppedthecabinclosesttoBabyBlue for her. “Weston prepared one of our cabins for you, but we’ve been having some water issues due to this year’s heavy snowfall Igotwordthismorningthatthecabinhasflooded”
Shit.Ididn’tknowthat itmust’vejusthappened.
“We’llworkongettingitbackuptostandards,butuntilthen,you’rewelcometostayhere intheBigHouse.”
“Oh”Adaseemedcaughtoffguard “Thisisyourhome Icouldneverimpose”
“It’snotanimposition,Ipromise.We’vegotplentyofspace I’vealreadymadeuparoomforyou andplentyoffood, andthisway,youcanstillstayon-site.”Mydadwassmiling.HeloveditwhenpeoplewereintheBigHouse.Itwasusually justhimandme “Plus,theBigHouseisclosertotheprojectsitethanyourcabinwould’vebeen,andyou’rewelcometoour four-wheelersandside-by-sides,soyoudon’thavetodriveyourcarthroughtheranch’sterrain.Andwhenyourcabinisready, youwon’thavetogoveryfar.”
“Um…that’sverykindofyou…”Adawasstumblingoverherwords.“Idoappreciateit,but…”
“It’stemporary,Ada,”Isaidwithoutthinking,butIhadafeelingshedidn’twanttotaketheofferbecauseofme Ifshe preferredtostayon-site,andifthat’swhathelpedhersetherselfupforsuccess,thenIdidn’twanthertohavetogivethatup. “Wecanprobablygetyourcabinsquaredawayinaweekorso.”
“This isn’tthefirsttimewe’veflooded,”mydadadded “Plus,Imakeameanpotofcoffee”Hewinkedather,andit pulledasmileoutofAda arealone.Mydadhadawayofputtingpeopleatease.
Adalookeddownatthetableforamomentbeforesaying,“Aslongasyou’resureitisn’tanimposition.”
Mydadclappedhishandstogether “It’ssettled,then Nowifyou’llexcuseme,I’vegottogetbacktowork”Hestood fromhischair,andAdaandIstoodwithhim.“Westoncantakeitfromhere.”HereachedouttoshakeAda’shandagain.“I’ve gotagoodfeelingaboutyou,Ada.WelcometoRebelBlue.”
Andwiththat,AmosRydergrabbedhiscowboyhatoffthetableand,lookingeverybittherancherhewas,headedoutthe door.
Itwasliketheairknewitwasjustthetwoofusnow,becauseitstartedtohum.
“I’msorryifthatwasweird,”Isaid,lookingatAda,whowasbacktoavoidingeyecontact “FindingoutwhoIam,and the fact that I grabbed your bag, and my dad offering to have you stay here that was a lot of content for a ten-minute conversation.”
“Yeah,” she breathed still not lookingat me. “Thankyou, though, for the bagthing. That place doesn’t evenhave a phonenumber,soIwasn’tholdingouthopeforalostandfound”
Thatmademelaugh.“HowdidyouevenfindtheDevil’sBoot?Idon’tevenknowifitshowsuponGoogleMaps.The roadyougodowntogettoitdoesn’tevenhaveaname.”
“Itshowsup,”Adasaid aghostofasmilewashintingatherlips “IwaslookingforsomewhereIcouldgetsomefood, anditwastheonlyplacethatwasstillopen.”Hersmilegotbigger likeshewassharingajokewithherself.
“Butitdoesn’t. Have food, Imean.” Iknew itwas inBrooks’s planto startbringinga food truckinonthe weekends duringthesummer,butnotyet
“Yeah.Googleisafilthyliar.”Shefinallylookedatmethen,andmyheartcaughtinmychestthewayithadlastnight.I smiledather,butassoonasIdid,shesnappedhergazeaway.
“Well,thepantryhereisalwaysstocked,andifyouhaveanyfavorites,justletmeknowandwe’llgetthemforyou Evan iswelcometothepantrytoo”ItriedtoshakeoffthedisappointmentI’dfeltwhenshelookedaway Ididn’tlikehowweirdit feltbetweenus.“Icanshowyouyourroom,soyoucangetsettled,andthenIcantakeyouovertothejobsite?”
“Thatwouldbegreat.Thankyou.”
IassumedthatmydadwouldputherupinEmmy’soldroombecauseithaditsownbathroomanditwasthemostprivate Italsohadadamngoodview.
IledAdadownahall,wherewepassedmyroom,andthentowardthebackofthehousewhereEmmy’sroomwas.My dadhadleftthedooropen
“Thisiswhereyou’llbe,”Isaid.“Itusedtobemysister’sroom,butit’sgotthebestview,somydadlikestoleaveitfor guestswhenhehasn’ttakenitoverashisyogastudio.”
Adaletoutalittlesnort “Iwasn’texpectingthat,”shesaid “Ifthere’s one thingabout Amos Ryder, it’s that he’s full ofsurprises,” Isaid witha smile Some days Iwasn’t very proudtobeme,butIwasalwaysproudtobemydad’sson.
ImotionedforAdatogoaheadofme,andshesteppedintotheroom.“Thatdoorthere” Ipointed “goestoanensuite bathroom,andifyouroundthecornerjustoutsidethebedroomdoor” Igesturedtowardthedoor “there’sasittingareawith asimilarview.That’stheverybackofthehouse.”ItwaswhereIlikedtodrawwheneverIhadachance.
“Thisisgreat.Thankyouforlettingmestayhere.IjustfeelbetterwhenIcanbethefirstoneon-siteandthelastoneto leave,andstayingclosebymakesthateasier Iwouldsleepon-siteifIcould”
“We’re happyto have you,” I said sincerely. Not because I felt pulled to her, not because she was beautiful, and not becauseI’dkissedher.IwashappyshewasherebecauseherbeingheremeantthatIwasonmywaytohavingsomethingat RebelBluethatwasmine
Andthatwaspricelesstome.
Atthis point, itwas veryhard to believe thatmylife wasn’tjustsome bigcosmic joke. WestonRyder was a hot, ageappropriate,andseeminglykindcowboy nottheweather-beatenoldrancherI’dbeenimagining AndI’dkissedhim.
Well, “kissed” was the benign term especially when I thought about the way he’d pushed me against the wall and pinnedmyhandsabovemyhead,orwhenIrememberedhowhefeltpressedupagainstme AndthememoryofitwouldbeallIwasgoingtohave,becauseitwouldneverhappenagain Notonlywasmyjob his project,Iwaslivingunderhisroof,andhewastechnicallymyboss. Ohgod.
Imadeoutwithmyboss
Whichwas bad enoughonthe surface, but it got a hell ofa lot worse whenIrealized that Ihad unknowinglyplaced myselfonthewrongsideofanunfairpowerdynamicwithaman.
Again
Stupiddecisionshaveconsequences.
And now Iwas goingto be forced to spend the nextfour months workingfor him, and inthe closestofquarters. Even now, Iwas closer to himthanIwanted to be inthe passenger seatofa side-by-side and wearingone ofhis bigCarhartt jackets.
Itwas a lotcolder inWyominginApril thanI’d thoughtitwould be, butIwas justplanningto grinand bear ituntil I couldgrabsomemorelayers.However,Westonthekindcowboygrabbedthisjacketoutofthecoatclosetaswewalkedout thedoorbecausehedidn’twantmetobecold
Now notonlywas Iwarm, Iwas enveloped ina masculine cedar scentthatIwanted to bottle. Weston who told me several times he preferredWes,butthatfelttoofamiliar was takingme tothe jobsite andgivingme a tour ofRebel Blue alongtheway
Itwasevenmorestrikingnowthanitwasonthedrivein.
“So,thejobsiteiswhatusedtobetheBigHouse,”hewassaying.“It’stheonethatmydadgrewupin.Hebuilttheone weliveinshortlyafterhemarriedmymom”Iappreciatedthehistorylesson IlikedknowingabouttheplacesIwasworking on.Ithelpedmecreatesomethingthattheownersorresidentswouldlove.“Thispartoftheranchiswheremostoftheoriginal structuresare.Towardtheeastwehaveourfamilystables,andtowardthewestiswhereyou’llfindtheranchhandcabinsand thelargerstables”
“How manypeople workhere?” Iasked,genuinelycurious aboutthe workings ofsomethingas massive as Rebel Blue Ranch.
“Give or take forty depending on the time of year but we’re having another growth spurt, so that number will probablybehigherthistimenextyear.Especiallywiththeguestranch.We’llneedwranglersandanothercook,atleast.”
“Anddoesyourwholefamilyworkontheranch?”ThefamilyphotosinthehousegavemetheimpressionthattheRyders wereaclosebunch
“Yeah.MybrotherGusistheoldest,andhe’smydad’ssecondincommand.He’llinherittheranchsomeday.”Itriedto placetheshiftinhisvoice.Itwasn’tenvyorjealousy maybeitwasjustrespect?“Andmylittlesister,Emmy,doestheriding lessons,horsetraining,andranchhandwork tendingtocattle,maintenanceonthegrounds thatsortofthing AndBrooksis hereafewtimesaweekandfillsinwhereweneedhim,usuallyoddjobs.”
Brooks.Iknewthatname thebartender.Iknewtherewassomethingfamilialbetweenthem,buthedidn’tsay“brother.” “He’sthebartender,right?Howdoeshefitin?”
“Iforgotyou’dmethimalready.”AblushwascreepingupWes’sneck.“He’s…Well,he’smybrother’sbestfriend,and heandEmmyaretogether.”Iwonderhowthatallwentdown.Ineverreallysawmyselflivinginasmalltown.I’dnevereven beentoonebeforenow,butIbetthegossipwasfun.
“Sothey’redating?”Iasked
“Thatfeelsliketoonormalawordforthem,”hesaid.Iwaitedforhimtocontinue.“Whenyoumeetthem,you’llgetit. It’seasytoseethatthey’reaforevertypeofthing.”IlookedoveratWes,whohadhiseyesonthedirtpathaheadofus.Oneof hisdimpleshadappeared Itwasobviousheheldalotofloveforthepeopleinhislife “Sotodescribethemasjust‘dating’ feelsweird.They’renotanythingIcanreallydescribe theyjustsortofare. Youknow?”
Ididn’tknow,butI’dtakehiswordforit.
“AndwheredoesTeddyfitin?”Iasked,becauseshehadtohavesomesortofpullwiththisfamilytoconvincethemto hireano-namedesignerfromSanFrancisco.
“Teddyis Emmy’s bestfriend they’ve beeninseparable since birth, basically. And theyroomed together atcollege.” Whydidn’tEmmy’snamesoundfamiliartome,then?I’dnevermetTeddy’sbestfriend,butI’dheardaboutheroff-handedly
“IfeellikeIrememberTeddy’sroommateincollegehavingaweirdname,”Isaid,mostlywithoutthinking Weslaughed, abig,loudlaugh.Thetypeoflaughthatwouldcausemetowonderhowthehellapersoncouldbethathappy.
“Emmy’sfullnameisClementine,”hesaid,stilllaughingalittle.“ButsheusuallygoesbyEmmy.Mydadistheonlyone whousesourfullnamesregularly”Clementine Thatwasthename Iknewitwasfruit-related
“Clementinelikethesong?”
Wes’ssmilegotbigger.“Yeah,butdon’tsaythattoher.Soresubject.”
Luckily,theside-by-sidecametoastopbeforeIhadtoattempttocoverthefactthatI’djustinadvertentlyinsultedWes’s sister,whohewasobviouslyextremelyfondof.
Ididn’thaveanysiblings,soI’dneverreallyunderstoodthebond.
Honestly,Ididn’treallyunderstandalotofbonds Ilovedandrespectedmyparentsanormalamount,butIdon’tthinkI wouldliveonaranchinWyomingwiththem
Asfarasfriendswent,Ididn’treallyhaveany notbecauseIdidn’twantthem,butbecausemakingfriendsasanadultis hard.Honestly,Ienjoyedsolitude,butthere’sadifferencebetweenthatandbeinglonely.
Foralongtime,I’vemostlybeenlonely Mydivorcewasmorethanayearago,butIfeltlonelybeforethat.
NowthatIwasthinkingaboutit,Ididn’trememberatimewhenIhadn’tfeltlonely.
Damn Thatwasaharshrealizationforteno’clockinthemorning Iswallowedthepricklysensationinmythroatandlookedupatthehousewehadstoppedat.
Itwasbigandbeautiful,butinanunassumingway.Itspaintwaschippedanditlookedalittlehaunted.EvenifIhadn’t seenthephotosoftheinside,Iwouldbeabletotellthatitwasgoingtotakealotofworktomakethisthingnotonlylivable butalsoadesirableplacetostay.
Thatdidn’tscareme.
WhenI looked at the house, I didn’t see the sinkingroof, the plywood doors and windows, or the overgrownweeds aroundit Isawmydream.
ThishousewasnotonlymygoldenticketoutofCalifornia,itwasalsomypitstoponthewaytosomethingbigger.
Ididn’tknowwhatthatsomethingbiggerwasyet,butIknewitwasoutthere I’dworkedsohardtogetoutofmyhome state,Iwasn’tabouttojustdothisprojectandthengoback.
Wes ImeanWeston gotoutofthedriver’sside,andIfollowedonthepassengerside,moreslowly notabletotake myeyesoffthehouse Seeingthehouseinpersonwaslikelightingamatchandmybrainwasgasoline Oncethetwomet,they couldn’tbestopped.
Iwasinthemiddleofathoughtaboutexteriorpaintcolors whitewasclassicbutoverdone,aversionofbabybluewas callingtome whenWeston whosevoicewasentirelytooclose said,“We’vemaintainedher thebestwecould,butthis wintertookaheaviertollonsomeoftheolderstructuresthanwewereexpecting.”
“She’s beautiful,” I said. Yeah, she was showing her age, but she wasn’t decrepit or in disrepair. She just needed someonetobelieveinher
“Yeah,she is,” Westonsaid.His voice was still soclose,butIdidn’twanttofindouthow close,soIstartedwalking towardthehouse.Theairwascoolonmyface.Itfeltnice,butIwasgrudginglygratefulforthewarmjacket.
IknewhowbigthehousewasfromthespecsthatWeshadsentme aroundthirty-fivehundredsquarefeet butitdidn’t lookor feel thatbig Itwasn’tgaudyor overbearing Italmostfeltlike ithad grownhere instead ofbeingbuilt, like itwas meanttobeinthisfield,onthisranch,withthebigblueskykissingthemountainsasitsbackdrop.
Ilovedit.
BeforeIknew it,Iwas atthefrontsteps This placecalledtome What’s thatsaying?Themountains arecallingandI mustgo?Well,theoldhouseinthemountainswaswhispering,andIneededtogetinside.
Iheard Wes’s voice behind me as Istarted up the stairs: “Watchoutfor thatthird step, it’s tricky ” He didn’tgetto finishhis sentence because whenI got to the third step, the top of the stair flipped up, and I started goinginthe opposite directionfromwhereIwantedtogo.
IshutmyeyesasIbracedmyselftohittheground,butIdidn’thittheground.InsteadIhitsomethingfirmandwarmthat smelledlikecedar
Wescaughtme
Oneofhisarmswasatmywaist,andhisotherhandwascradlingmyhead.WhenIopenedmyeyes,Iwasstaringupat him. The way we were right now reminded me of last night. My tongue involuntarily darted across my bottomlip, and I watchedWes’seyestrackthemovement
Theairaroundusstartedtohum thesamewayithadlastnightatthebarandintheBigHousekitchenthismorning andIwasdesperatetoletgoagain tolosecontrolforjustasecond.
“Youokay?”Wesasked Hisvoicewaslow “Itriedtowarnyou”Hesmiled,andIhadaprimeviewofthosedimples Ifeltacool breezeagainstmyfaceandrememberedwhereIwas.Outside.Wyoming.Rebel BlueRanch.Ilookedpast Wes’sfaceandsawthehouse.
Mydream
Mychance
Thatwasenoughtojoltmeoutofthetrancethatonlythismanwascapableofputtingmein.Iscrambledtomyfeetand outofhisarms.Ididn’tknowhowtorecoverfromthatsituation,soIdustedmyselfoff,eventhoughI’dneveractuallyhitthe ground
“I’mfine,”Isnappedwithmoreannoyancethannecessary.Ihopedmytonewouldpushthis manfurther away,because whenhewasnearme,Iwasliabletodostupidthings,andIcouldn’taffordanymoreconsequences.
When his dimples disappeared, I immediately wanted to apologize an unnatural impulse for me but I didn’t I couldn’t.
“Right.Okay.”Helookedattheground.“Whenyouwalkupthesteps,justmakesureyoustepinthecenterofthethird onesoitstaysinplace,orskipitaltogether”Igavehimanodandlethimleadthewaythistime
Iwatched as he removed the large slab ofwood fromthe front door witha grunt, and desperatelytried to ignore the butterfliesinmystomach.
Honestly,thereactionIwashavingtohimwascauseforconcern.
Ididn’t want toreactthisway Mybodydidn’ttypicallyrespondtopeoplelikethis notevenmyex-husband,although hedidn’twantmeeither,sothatcould’vebeenpartofit.Still,thiswasn’tnormalforme,andIdidn’tlikeit.Itmademyhead fuzzy,andIneededthatlittleassholetobecrystalfuckingclear.
WesturnedbacktomeandIquicklylookedaway,avoidingeyecontactasImovedintothehouse
WhenIgotinside,IlookedaroundandfeltthesamefeelingsI’dfeltoutside,buttherewasonethatwassounexpected thatitmademyheartjumpintomythroat. Hope.
Wes
Iwasanidiot.
ButatleastIwasawareIwasanidiot
Inthis situation, though, Iwould’ve lostno matter whichdecisionImade. Ieither could’ve lether fall, or Icould’ve caughther.Iwould’vefeltbadforweeksifI’dletherfall,butIalsofeltbadnowfortouchingher evenifitwastokeepher fromhittingthedirt whensheveryobviouslydidnotwanttobetouched
MyhandshadreachedforherbeforeIevenknewwhattheyweredoing.Thenshewasinmyarmsandmyworldstopped again.
Justlikeitdidwhenshe’drolledhercarwindowdowntoday.
Andjustlikeitdidlastnight
Ididn’tknowhowtodealwiththis.I’dbeenattractedtopeoplebefore,hadafewgirlfriends,butnotforyears.
And honestly, I didn’t mind. At the risk of sounding like an asshole, I knew there were women in Meadowlark who wantedme foreitheraflingorsomesortofrelationship Theolder ladiesinMeadowlarkwerealwaysdyingtosetmeup withtheir niece or their granddaughter, sayingIneededto find a nice girl and settle down, and the Meadowlarkgossip mill couldneverfigureoutwhyIhadn’tdonethat.
Itwasthatword“nice”thatfrustratedme
Itwasn’tabadword,buttomeitdidn’tfeel likeagoodone.I’dalways beencalleda“nice”guy.Itdidn’tmatter the context withfriends,withwomen,withstrangers Iwasalways“nice.”
Again,notbad,notgood justthere
Maybethat’swhythethoughtofanicegirlfromthisnicetowndidn’tfeellike enoughforme
ButsometimesIwantedittobe.
The truth atleastpartofit was thatIliked mylife as is. Inever feltthatbecause Iwasn’tina relationship Iwas missingoutoranything
Theotherpartofitwasmorepersonal.Itwasdeep-rootedinsecuritythatcamefromhavingabrainthatIsometimesfelt likewasn’tmyown.
I’dbeendiagnosedwithmajordepressivedisorderaboutfiveyearsago Atthispoint,I’dlearnedtolivewithit,andI hadaregimen medication,therapy,physicalactivity thatworkedforme,whichmeantthatthingsdidn’tgetasdarkasthey usedto.It’swhyIlikedtodrawtoo.Drawinghelpedmybrainbekindertome.
Logically,Ihadthedepressionbullbythehorns