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To a small operation like Double C Ranch, Calloway is the enemy—one of the big bad corporations that have been buying up land and consolidating power for years. They're the reason many ranches and farms like those still running in Cedarwood Valley have gone under, the reason many a family has had to start over from scratch.
As I climb into the helicopter and strap in, feeling its luxury against my grimy work clothes, I awkwardly place my calloused hands on the smooth leather seats and glance out the window. Men I've worked with, laughed with, sweated with, all stand there, their hard faces etched with a betrayal they can't begin to comprehend. Guilt washes over me, because I lied to my best friend. I've lied to everyone. Right now, they probably all think I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing.
I avert my eyes as the helicopter takes off, leaving behind the place that had been my home for so long. The trees blur into a green and brown smudge beneath me, and all I can think aboutis facing my father again after a decade of doing things on my own. God only knows what this matter of urgency is, but one thing I did know is that eventually this day would come. I just wish that day wasn't right now, today. Right when I'd resolved to come clean about who I was to the person most important to me.I just needed a little more time...
"Is there really an emergency? Or did my father just figure out where I was and decide to drag me back?" I ask Miles once the ranch is behind us.
His mouth quirks into a smile. "Your father has always known where you were, Clark," he says. "He was simply giving you grace until it was time to call you home."
"And that's what this is? He's calling me home?"
Miles glances out the window. "Your father will explain everything when we arrive."
My pulse thuds dully. I feel foolish for thinking that maybe I'd escaped that world for good. "How long until I have to face him?"
"About thirty minutes. But first, we need to make a stop."
"I'm not changing my clothes. He can take me as I am."
Miles chuckles and shakes his head. "That's not what I was referring to, Clark. We're making a stop to pick up someone else your father needs to see."
MARIAH
Ipace anxiously outside the cottage, awaiting the helicopter I've been told is taking me back to the city. I've never been in a helicopter before, so while I'm nervous as hell over that, it gives me the chance to allow my thoughts to drift to Clark and how that dimpled grin of his has knocked down my walls in a way no one else has before.
I'd always thought myself a strong-willed woman—independent above all else. But the moment that cowboy looks my way or lays a hand on me, I'm a goner. It's as if all my struggles and fears surrounding relationships existed explicitly, so they'd keep every man away but him. And while my heart is flying high and begging me to run into his arms and make myself a home there, my head is shouting 'Whoa, girl! Whoa! Is it your heart wanting him that bad or your vagina?'
The distant thrum of blades stirs the air. I watch mesmerized as the sleek black helicopter approaches, then gracefully lowers itself to the field—part of Regina and Josh's sheep farm—not far from me. As the helicopter hovers above the ground, I have to hold on to my hair as the air whips around me, filled with the scent of fuel and oil. It's an oddly familiar and comforting smell, reminiscent of gas stations and road trips.
The ground beneath me rumbles as the helicopter lands, sending vibrations through my feet and making my heart race. My client's CFO opens the side door and gestures me over, and as I duck inside, the whoosh of the blades gets cuts off when the door closes behind me and I'm enveloped in muted silence.
I've barely stepped inside before the helicopter takes off again. So I quickly settle into the soft leather seat, pushing my hair out of my face so I can give a professional greeting to my client's representative. But instead, I freeze entirely. I'm not the only person this helicopter picked up in Cedarwood Valley.
"Clark?" I blurt out, my heart hammering at the sight of him. "What are you doing in my client's helicopter?" And not just any client. Mybiggest,most influential client, Calloway Industries. They're the biggest beef supplier in the entire country, and since I'm on my way to a crisis meeting with the head of that company, Magnus Calloway, the very last person I expected to see was my farmhand maybe-boyfriend-slash-love-of-my-life. "Explain."
Clark looks equally startled to see me. Before he can form a response, my client's CFO, Miles, jumps in. "I see you and Mr. Calloway's son have already met. Small towns, hey? Guess I don't have to introduce you after all."
My eyes widen in surprise. "Mr.Calloway's son?" I repeat, looking at Clark in confusion while a feeling of betrayal roils deep in my belly.What is this?
He winces and runs a hand through his hair. "Mariah, I can explain."
I buckle myself in across from him and shake my head. "I don't think there's anything to explain. You're not who you led me to believe you were."
"There's more to it than that," Clark insists, trying to reach for me. But I pull away.
"Ranch hands don't travel to the city in private family-owned helicopters, Clark."
"Let me explain."
"Explain what? That you've been faking the howl country-born-and-bred act? Is that accent you use even real?”
Before he can open his mouth to respond, I lean forward and hiss under my breath, hating how unprofessional I'm currently being. "Listen, you might have been born into this life. But I had to work my ass off to get here. So I don't think this is the timeorthe place to discuss this. I'm here to work."
He lets out a slow breath and leans back in his seat, looking at me with a mix of regret and longing in his eyes. The effect is like a tornado sweeping through my insides, sowing chaos and uncertainty inside my already fragile heart—if he lied about who he was, did he lie about loving me, too? Was this all a joke? Some kind of real-world excursion he was taking until he reclaimed his privileged throne?
Unable to look at him without my emotions welling up inside, I shift my gaze to the passing landscape. As I watch, the rolling green hills of the small farming town reduce to miniature patchwork squares beneath us. Everything appears so small, insignificant almost. And I wish my problems with Clark could be reduced to such inconsequential specks too. But they're big, as vast as the entire valley we're leaving behind.
The journey is painfully quiet. The muted hum of the chopper's rotor blades and the gentle thrumming of my own beating heart are the only sounds that fill the cabin. Clark sits in his seat, stiff as a church pew, occasionally throwing glances at me like he's trying to figure out a particularly vexing puzzle. From time to time, I catch him opening his mouth as if to drop a lifeline of explanation into the awkward silence. But he doesn’t. He seems to think better of it and closes his mouth each time, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us.
