I was a flat-out menace in high school, and it was a small school. If there was a prank being pulled, I was either theinstigator or the muscle. I didn’t let any of the boys get away with thinking girls couldn’t do anything. In fact, I have a very clear memory of Hanson telling me that girls couldn’t drive a stick shift. He was so sure of himself that he handed me the keys to his pickup—which was a manual. Which I then proceeded to hide from him five miles down the road. My sister Briar picked me up after I parked his truck in his grandpa’s hay shed. If Hanson remembers me, it’s probably not fondly.
“And if that doesn’t work, we have a sales rep who’s gonna be staying with us in a couple of weeks. He’s young. He’s handsome. He works in the local area. He only lives forty-five minutes from here.”
“Then why is he staying here with us?” I grit out. My mother has invited more strange men to stay with us… It frustrates me to no end. She’s an optimist for sure and believes everyone has the best intentions. I have Dad’s more suspicious nature and don’t trust people until they’ve proven themselves to me. I’m especially not going to invite a stranger to come stay under my roof with me when I have my own house.
“Because he has an early morning meeting in town.”
“So, he couldn’t get up forty-five minutes earlier and drive there?” I ask.
Mom busies herself, flipping the chicken-fried steak on the stove. “I was just telling you the schedule. No pressure.”
The schedule involves a young-ish man staying in our house and probably sharing my bathroom. Our house isn’t huge. It’s a nice-sized three-bedroom, two-bath, but when you add a stranger to the mix, it feels tiny.
My mother is relentless about my falling in love and getting married. You would think I was an old Regency spinster and still living at home, a burden to my parents.
You know, usually when you watch a movie or read a book, you identify with the main character. You want to feel like you’vegot that main-character energy. Unfortunately, my mom makes me feel like I’ve got Charlotte Lucas energy. No prospects. No money.
Maybe it’s time I find my own Mr. Collins.
CHAPTER 5
Zane
Bliss still hasn’t answeredmy text from yesterday, and I know I should just drop it. Maybe I should go online and meet my future wife the old-fashioned way—through a dating app.
But there’s something in me that feels like I should pursue this with Bliss because, well, for one, I trust her. And also, it will be a lot easier to live with someone I like and who actually likes Pine Ridge.
I take out my phone and text her again. This will be my last try. And it will probably make me look ridiculously desperate. But now is not the time to worry about that. I need action.
Dad’s threatening to sell off pieces of the ranch so he and Mom can spend some time in Arizona to see if it will help her rheumatoid arthritis. She’s hoping more time in a dry climate during the winter months will alleviate the arthritis pain. Pine Ridge has a nice dry climate in the summertime, but in the wintertime, the snow can settle in for weeks at a time, and Mom can be in a lot of pain then. But if my parents are going to travel, I need Dad to let me buy the ranch. I’ve had my fair share of disappointments in life—getting a shoulder injury my freshmanyear as a division one baseball player. Losing my scholarship because of said injury and not being able to finish veterinary school…Getting left at the altar by someone I thought I loved. Not to mention everything else life likes to throw at you.
The one consistent thing has been the ranch. It has all of my love. I’ll do whatever I need to keep it.
Zane: Would you want to come over tonight so we could talk?
I reworded the text five different ways before I finally hit Send. Bliss would probably prefer I get straight to the point.
To my surprise, she responds five minutes later.
Bliss: Yes. I’m not sure what time I’ll be done with work yet.
I pump a fist through the air. She said yes. It’s a step in the right direction.
Zane: That’s fine. I’ll be working around the house today, so just text when you’re heading this way. I’ll grill some steaks.
She texts back a single thumbs-up, nothing more.
But I guess I can’t be picky. She responded, and she’s going to come over. It’ll be fine.
I try to think of a million good arguments for why Bliss should marry me, and hopefully, at least one of them will stick. My best argument is that I’m free labor. Although, I don’t know if that will change much if we get married. I already drop everything to go help Bliss if she and her dad have a bigger project. And that’s not something I do for everyone in town.
My other great selling point is that I have a hot tub on my back deck with an amazing view. She might not be as persuaded by that as I hope.
Maybe I could promise to barbecue for her every night. As long as she’s happy eating meat every meal…because that’s all I can really cook.
None of these are exactly brilliant reasons to marry me.
I spend the day trying to get my tractor running again, but I find myself checking my phone regularly to see if it’s getting close to dinnertime. At lunchtime, I run into town to grab some drinks to put in the fridge.
