Page 37 of The Taste of Deceit

“Yep. Just a random cramp.”

The drive eventually turns onto a long gravel road lined with split-rail fencing. Ford eases the truck over a cattle guard, and the tires crunch against the gravel as the ranch comes into view.

I understand immediately why Sarah talks about this place the way she does.

The white farmhouse sits at the end of the drive with a wide front porch wrapping around two sides. It’s nothing extravagant. Just a home that’s clearly been loved for a long time. Beyond it, cattle graze lazily across rolling pasture while a handful of ranch hands move them on horseback beneath the backdrop of snow-capped mountains.

Sarah reaches over and grabs my hand.

“Home,” she says quietly.

I smile.

Ford parks beside an old red barn. The second he kills the engine, a handful of chickens scatter across the yard, clucking their complaints as they dart out of the truck’s way.

Ford climbs out first, followed by Adele. I grab both suitcases from the bed of the truck before Sarah can protest. Sarah reaches for her backpack, shooting me a look when I automatically reach for it too.

“I can carry one thing,” she says.

“It’s your emotional support backpack.”

“Exactly.”

We follow Ford and Adele through the front door. The inside of the house feels exactly like I’d imagined it would—warm, comfortable, and lived in. Family photos line the walls, the smell of fresh coffee lingers in the air, and somewhere down the hallway an old clock quietly ticks.

Sarah slips her hand into mine.

“We’re gonna take our suitcases upstairs.”

Adele smiles.

“Go ahead, honey.”

“We’ll be down in a minute,” Sarah says.

Ford nods. “Take your time.”

She doesn’t let go of my hand until we’re halfway up the stairs.

“This way.”

She leads me down the hallway and pushes open the last door on the left.

The room is unmistakably hers.

A quilt covers the bed. Books line overflowing shelves. Horse ribbons hang beside framed photographs, and an old acoustic guitar rests in the corner beneath the window.

I barely have time to set the suitcases on the floor before the bedroom door clicks shut behind us.

I turn just as Sarah grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me into a kiss.

I laugh against her lips.

“Baby Girl…”

She kisses me again.

“I missed you.”