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Ma didn’t talk on the way to the house. It was this way between us. Silence was better than bickering. Papa claimed we were too much alike, and that was why we argued. Wasn’t that normal between mothers and daughters? I wouldn’t know. I didn’t have close friends growing up to get a glimpse at anything else.
I pulled up to the gate. Ma didn’t make a move to get out.
I suppressed a sigh and shoved the door open. “I’ll get it. You rest.” I’d learned the art of sarcasm before I learned to speak. It’d done nothing but bite me in the ass. The one time in my life I’d acted sweet and innocent, I’d been shut down. Hard.
Ma rolled her eyes and took another pull off the pen.
I opened the gate, pulled through, and hopped out to close it again.
I left the window open as I hit the highway. If I went straight, I’d pass Liam Barron’s house. The illegitimate Barron. The Barrons ran this county. Siblings who were born into oil money. One of the sons ran the refinery outside of town. Another son, our neighbor, ranched on the other side of Liam. The only daughter of the group ran a ranch across the county and rivaled my mother for how many times she’d been called a bitch in her life. And the third brother was estranged to everyone in town. There was speculation about where he lived and how many kids he’d had and how old they’d be. I kept my mouth shut. The further I stayed away from the Barrons, the better.
I should’ve learned my lesson after high school. My boyfriend had been Liam’s cousin. If we’d been from other families, we would’ve been two kids who grew up together and dated. But my boyfriend’s family hadn’t hidden how much they despised the Grangers or how they planned to take over our land, something the Barrons had been trying to do for decades.
I turned off the dirt road to our place and stifled a yawn. Kane had been out for his morning run—one of his new coping mechanisms—and called to let me know the cows were out.
Eighteen months ago, he would’ve saddled Papa’s horse, Bolt, and waved them back in. But he’d distanced himself from all things ranching, lest Ma pull him back in, and I got to argue with Ma all day in his place.
I’d come home to help run the ranch. To keep both the business and the land in the family. To be there for Kane. I stayed because going back to my old home was no longer an option.
My stomach rumbled as I turned down the drive that wound past the house and into the middle of the yard, which was surrounded by the barns, a shed, and the house. I inspected the fence and corral gates as I drove by. There were a few weak stretches that would need to be repaired. Hopefully I’d have a chance to do the repairs before the cattle found them.
Ma grunted. “Who the hell is that?”
My gaze was drawn to a sleek dark sedan. “Someone who wants to wash their car.”
She snickered, and I chuckled. Clean cars were a temporary luxury when living on gravel. Even the richest ranchers who had pickups worth as much as our house couldn’t keep them pristine.
“Better not be that damn genetics salesman.”
I wished it was, but Ma had run that guy out pretty hard. I thought it was a mistake, but what did I know? I’d only grown up working this ranch, done the finances all through high school, and researched how working with a bigger company to breed specialty bulls would improve business.
It was the direction Kane had been trying to go. Ma hated being told what to do, so she saw it as a hostile takeover, not the growth we needed to secure the ranch that’d been in our family for generations—the Diamond UU. We were to remain a cow/calf operation for eternity.
I coasted down the long driveway, tempted to block the fancy car in for no reason other than I was my mother’s daughter, and pissing people off was a temptation I sometimes indulged.
I killed the engine but left the windows open. If it was going to become an oven, it might as well be a convection one.
I hopped out and walked toward the house.
“Laney,” Papa called. Today was rare. Papa had actually stuck around to do some yard work. Most weekends, he was fishing, hunting, or doing extra repair projects. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Me? As I turned, the wind blew dust into my face. I brushed it away, willing myself to ignore the dirt under my uneven nails. Manicures used to be routine, but these days I only had so much money and energy to spare. I didn’t miss them, but I missed not cringing when I saw my dirty nails.
Portia erupted in a frenzy of barks as a man walked out of the opening of the big red barn. His arrogant swagger was blazed into my brain.No. His dark gaze pinned me in place and his eyes narrowed. His full lips twisted like he couldn’t figure out what he was looking at.
Because the last time he saw me, I’d been in five-inch heels. My freshly highlighted blonde hair had been in an elegant crown braid that paired well with the sapphire-blue Oscar de la Renta gown I’d been wearing. He’d told me that the color made my eyes look like the ocean on a sunny day and he hadn’t been able to keep his gaze off my legs.
“Portia, quiet,” Ma growled.
He tilted his head. As if that’d help. I’d told him I’d grown up working cattle, and sometimes I suspected he hadn’t believed me. Like he’d been just shy of patting my hair and telling me not to worry my pretty little head.
There had been so many little signs I’d ignored until that day in my gown and my heels when I told him I had to leave his important work function, and he’d saidNot now. I’d insisted it couldn’t wait. Like a brainwashed idiot, I’d been trying to hold in my tears to keep from ruining his chance at a big promotion. And he’d shown me that what was most important to him was not me.
And here he was, in all his expensive-jeans-and-Tom Ford-polo-shirt glory.
Ma’s bootsteps crunched the gravel behind me, and the dog raced between all of us. “You’re looking for Laney?” Her incredulous question barely penetrated the booming of my pulse as my heart jackhammered my ribs.
Papa nodded and scrutinized me. “Actually, he said he was looking forhis wife,Delaney Barron. Wanna explain what that’s all about?”
