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“Thank you, honey.” Lily grabs some plates from the cabinet above the stove, evenly distributing the food between the two of us. “You need a lot of protein to start the day off right.”
“And a warm cup of coffee, that’s for sure.”
Ever since my mom’s death, Lily Adams has been my rock. She was my mother’s best friend and her closest confidante, so it made sense for then-sixteen-year-old me to live with her during that chaotic time following her passing.
On our ranch, Lily helps make sure that my life doesn’t fall apart, just like she always has. She takes care of the cooking and cleaning in our quaint little homestead here.
It’s not much, but it’s everything we need. Two bedrooms and bathrooms, a living room with enough photographs to blanket the walls, a small kitchen, and even a patio where we can enjoy some iced tea and watch the Texas sunset together.
“Delicious coffee, Lily,” I say, reaching for my coffee mug. “Why didn’t you ever get married? Somewhere, in a parallel universe, there’s some lucky husband waiting to come home to your cooking. I’m lucky that I get his portion.”
“Oh, Bella,” Lily replies with a small smile, shaking her head. “You know me. I like my solitude. I get so much stuff done when there’s no one around besides just me and my thoughts.”
I lean in close. “Yeah, but you must have imagined a family, one you cooked for each day?”
“I have one. She’s sitting right here at this table. Besides, you and I have had this conversation before. Prince Charming can keep his castle.”
An intricate tapestry of emotions flashes behind her eyes, but I can’t begin to pick them all apart.
“We’ve talked about not talking about it. Someday I’ll hear all your stories,” I suggest, with more optimism than I have cause to feel.
Lily had a life of her own before she decided to raise me, but she hardly talks about it, pretending that deflection is the same as discussion.
Even now, I don’t know much of what went on with her before I came into the picture.
“I hate to disappoint you, but there’s not much to tell.” She smiles softly and starts collecting our empty plates. “You light up my life, sugar. I don’t need anyone else.”
Sometimes I wonder if there’s something more to her words. The times she’s propped open the door to her past, I’ve pushed my way through as far as I can, but it’s still not enough to form a cohesive picture.
I wrap my hair into a low ponytail and fetch my broad-brimmed hat before heading off to do my chores. Before I leave, Lily hurries out with a small bag full of food for later if I don’t want to come back to the main house.
Then she kisses me on both cheeks and waves me off, standing on the patio until I drive away.
The midday heat beats down on my skin as I patrol the ranch for any signs of mischief. Adjusting my hat, I squint and notice something amiss on the horizon. My grip on my rifle tightens as I make my way over to the animals.
From what I can tell, some fancy-pants moneybags bought the ranch beside ours and decided to start renovating the whole thing. I don’t mind some good exterior detailing, but when it encroaches on my property, it becomes a problem.
“Excuse me, sir!” I call to one of the men. He’s wearing a polo shirt and khakis, while a shorter worker next to him wears a plaid shirt and jeans. “May I ask why you’re destroying the border fence that divides our properties?”
“Ah, it’s you. Remind me of your name again.”
My jaw clenches as I rest my rifle against my shoulder. “Bella Sanchez, sir. And you are?”
“Donavan Williams. Well, Bella, my boss is renovating the ranch, so we…”
“I don’t care what your plans are,” I interject bluntly. “I care that you’re destroying the fence.”
“Heh.” He looks me up and down, crinkling his nose. “Are you some sort of patrol woman? A sheriff?” The other laborer snickers.
“I’m the owner of the ranch whose property you’re vandalizing.” To make my point, I hold my rifle in both hands again, which makes the second man nervous. “And I don’t appreciate it when my stuff is messed with, sir.”
“What could you possibly know about operating a ranch?” he retorts. “You’re better off dancing on a pole in town. There’s no way you could handle a rough man’s work. Just look at what you’re wearing!”
I glance down at my outfit. A tank top, jeans, and boots that reach my knees. A typical outfit in my eyes.
“I’d bet a piece of my spine that you don’t know the first thing about working on a ranch,” he continues.
“Then pay up.” I cock the gun. Both men flinch. “Because you’re dead wrong on that.”
