Page 7 of Sunrise & Serenity

“Thirty thousand acres,” I say. “A lot of it is mountains, though.”

She lets out a soft breath and sits back. “It’s amazing.”

The wonder in her voice reignites my irritation. Unfair, perhaps, but true. “I’m assuming you did at least some research on the ranch before applying. Or did you decide on the spur of the moment?”

“I’m sorry,” she says in a tone that tells me she’s anything but, “that’s your business, because…?”

“Working on a ranch isn’t easy. Neither’s living out here. And if tonight’s anything to go by, you didn’t prepare nearly enough.”

“Are you planning to be this rude to the guests when they arrive?”

“I plan to have as little to do with the guests as possible,” I mutter.

With a small snort, she crosses her arms. “I hope the owners have sense and keep you far away from them.”

It hits me then. She doesn’t know who I am.

My lips twitch, despite myself, as I steer the truck along the road toward my cabin—and hers. “Feel free to let them know when you meet them.”

CHAPTER 3

SAGE

“Maybe I will,” I mutter.

I wasn’t expecting my first encounter with a real-life cowboy to go this way. I assumed all this fresh air and rugged scenery would make someone more cheerful. Not that I’ll actually mention his attitude to the owners. With any luck, I won’t have much to do with him once he’s safely delivered me to the ranch.

A short while later, we pass beneath a large wooden sign with the Wild Ember name burned into it. But instead of continuing toward the largest cluster of lights like I expect, Holden turns off the main road onto a gravel track that seems to lead into the foothills.

My stomach flip-flops. “Um… where are we going?”

“To your cabin.”

“Why is it so far away?”

His jaw twitches. “It’s the only one available at the moment.”

I peer over my shoulder at the lights disappearing behind us. “How am I supposed to get back down tomorrow morning without a car?”

“Lucky for you, you’ll have someone to drive you.”

From his tone, I’m sure I already know the answer, but I have to ask. “And that will be…?”

His dark brows draw down. “Me, apparently.”

I wince. Even if his grumpiness rubs me the wrong way, I get it. He’s been dragged out into the rain to rescue me, and now he’s stuck driving me around all because I crashed my car. Which is particularly frustrating because I bought the used compact SUV based on reviews that said it was safe and reliable.

I guess they weren’t anticipating mountain storms or suicidal deer either.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize again for the inconvenience, but a stubborn spark in my chest holds me back. He hasn’t made any effort to be nice, and I don’t think he cares whether I do. In fact, the friendlier I try to be, the more annoyed he seems to become.

So I stay silent. At least until we drive past the tree line and the road becomes pitch-black beyond the reach of the truck’s headlights.

I’m supposed to stay up here, alone in the dark?

Shifting forward, I grip the dashboard and peer through the trees. Maybe this horror movie will end with me running through the forest, a knife-wielding maniac slashing at the air behind me, rather than being devoured by wolves and bears.

“Does anyone else live up here?” I try to sound nonchalant but fail pretty miserably.