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Elena’s expression remained neutral.
I hesitated, then did something I hadn’t done in years. I tried to apologize.
“I am sorry for her behavior. She is?—"
But she cut me off with a look. A look that said she wasn’t interested in apologies. I felt the frustration tighten my chest. She wouldn’t even let me try.
Elena breathed out, slow and measured. “You shouldn’t apologize for someone else’s actions. Fiona is a grown-ass woman. She made her choices. If she feelsremorse, I’m happy to hear her out. If not, we move forward.”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah.” She then leaned forward, her elbows resting on her thighs. She swiveled her hat. “But I do need a favor.”
This time, I bobbed my head in acknowledgment and waited.
“Ally…Allison, she works here.”
“The blonde kid?”
“Yeah. Fiona needs to be kinder to the staff. Allison is healing from some bad shit, and making her cry because she didn’t replace a towel in the bathroom is unnecessary. Fiona can keep on saying what she wants to me or Itzel or Hunt or even Amos…though maybe not Amos, he’s about this close”—she put her thumb and forefinger together—“to quitting on you. Hunt and I can take it. Itzel…she’s a rock.”
“She seems competent.” She was more than that. I liked her very much. She had a no-nonsense but caring demeanor. Thanks to her cooking, I’d eaten better than I had in years, and regardless of Fiona making a fuss about being sick and tired ofranchfood, I had no problem with it.
“Then that’s settled.” Elena straightened. “Is there anything else?”
The way she said it made me stiffen. Was she dismissing me?
She was about to stand up when I waved a hand. “We’re not done talking.”
She looked taken aback, and she wasn’t the only one. She was leaving me. Always fucking leaving, and it was driving me up the wall. She loved me. She fucking loved me, and…I didn’t know what the hell to do about it.
I should never have come to Wildflower Canyon. Coming here was a mistake.
If I’d only stayed away…if I had only been able to.
The air here was like a truth serum, stripping me down to what I really was, what I really wanted. I’d come back thinking I could settle Nash’s affairs, sell the ranch, and walk away clean. Thought I could bury the past, my feelings for him and Elena, alongside him. But I didn’t want to anymore. I didn’t want Elena to sell the horses, especially Whiskey Rush, whom she loved. I didn’t want Hunt to pack up and leave. I didn’t want the people who gave their lives to this land to lose it.
And, maybe worst of all, I didn’t want to lose it either.
I had thought this was business, but Wilder Ranch was more than that. It was history, legacy—blood and sweat worked into every inch of soil. It was mornings that were thick with the scent of coffee and saddle leather, the low murmur of voices before dawn, and the sound of cattle calling out in the distance. It was the rhythm of hooves against packed dirt, the creak of old barn wood, and the warmth of a well-worn saddle. It was evenings in the bunkhouse, poker games played over whiskey, stories traded between men who spoke less with words and more with the land.
This place had shaped me, even when I’d tried mybest to turn my back on it. Even when I’d convinced myself I didn’t belong.
I wondered if everything I’d been doing—the deal with Piper, the plans to sell—had all been theatre. A way to prove I didn’t care because I cared too damn much.
Before I could contemplate that epiphany further, Fiona came into the office. She was in black silk pajama shorts and a tank top. “Duke, come to bed.”
She thenpretendedto notice Elena. “Oh…isn’t it a bit late for a meeting?”
“I asked her to stop by,” I clarified.
Fiona approached me and, because I knew she was staking a claim, she sat on my lap, as if telling Elena toleave.
I wanted to push Fiona away, but then I heard Itzel’s words again: “…hard to watch the man you love with another woman.”
“Elena, please tell Fiona the issues you just brought up about her behavior?—”
“My what?” Fiona cried out and scoffed. “Who the fuck is the employee, and who is the employer here?”