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As soon as she neared the barn, she heard voices coming from within. One voice she recognized as Zach Webb’s. The other sent tingles directly to her stomach.

Colton’s rough tone tore through her senses, but what he said turned her blood to ice. “When is Gracey coming back? I need to speak to him.”

“Not for another few days. He’s known to stay at these conferences a while, talking to other ranchers and making connections to better the business.”

“Can’t wait that long. Can you give me his number?”

“What’s so damn urgent, Nox? You sick of working hard for a living?”

A deadly heartbeat followed. Then Colton’s tone came out even rougher. “You son of a bitch. You know nothing of hard work. You’ve been in nursery school compared to what I’ve seen and done for my country.”

Meadow shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Just tell me what you need and I’ll take care of it.” Zach’s tone held an edge of tension too. He’d always been fair to everyone on this ranch. He was nice to Meadow, sometimes bending over backward to help her, and the way he was treating Colton surprised her.

“That’s my business. I’ll just have to wait until Gracey gets back.”

Dread wove through Meadow. Was he going to run to her daddy and tattle on her for what she’d done in the bar? She couldn’t let that happen—her father was in no state of mind to handle another thing when it came to his family.

Before she realized that the conversation between Zach and Colton had ended, Colton appeared in the doorway. At the sight of her, he stopped dead in his tracks. Then he let out a grunt and took off walking so fast that she didn’t know if she could catch up to him without running.

But she had to try.

She whirled and took off after him. Each thump of her boots on the ground jarred her tender head, but she endured the punishment and pushed on.

“Wait!”

He didn’t stop, only rounded the corner of the barn.

Meadow jogged faster. “Colton, stop!”

He did, so abruptly that she would have plowed into him if she hadn’t skidded to a halt soon enough. They faced each other.

Her chest heaved. “Are you planning on telling my father about what happened down at Badlands?”

His stare arrowed straight to her heart. “No. I’m not.”

She melted in relief but tried not to let him see her reaction. “What do you need him for then?”

“As I’m sure you heard me tell Webb when you were eavesdropping, it’s my business. Now I’ve got work to do.”

He left her standing there, gaping after him, feeling dumb and small. The wind cut across the field, bringing notes of fresh pine off the mountain and carrying the noises of the cattle pastured there.

Well, she could stand here feeling sorry for herself or she could do something with her life. Starting now, she would be an asset to the ranch. Her strength lay with the horses, so she’d start there. Then maybe after she proved her worth to her father, he’d let her in on other operations. He might let her talk to the strangers who stopped by regularly asking for him.

Trying to forget Colton and the way his eyes blazed when he looked at her, she turned and headed to the paddock. She spent the rest of the morning training two different horses. One was more advanced than the other—proof that she wasn’t doing her job and needed to step up her game.

When afternoon rolled around, her appetite returned. Sitting alone at the kitchen table was too depressing, so she decided to pack a bagged lunch and ride out to her favorite spot on the ranch to eat.

She didn’t mind the solitude, but often she was lonely. When her father was around, he put up with her chatter the way fathers indulged young daughters—only she wasn’t young anymore.

The ranch hands were too busy and polite to tell her to get lost. Her few girlfriends had lives of their own and jobs to occupy their time.

With a sigh, she settled on the crest of the hill overlooking the ranch. The sky seemed low with clouds that rolled in since that morning. In the far distance, she saw the bottoms of the clouds were tinged with gray, as if ready to let loose with rain. She had just enough time to eat and get home before it poured on her.

She tucked her knees up to her chest and pulled the ham and cheese sandwich out of her bag. As kids, she and her siblings used to come here for picnics with their mom. Those were such good days, spent eating and hunting for four-leaf clovers.

It wasn’t until much later that her mother told her that clover didn’t grow in that field—she’d only sent her offspring to find the rare plant so she could get a bit of peace.