Page 18 of Ace of Spades (Hidden Creek Ranch #1)

HAILEY

Dust forms like a cloud in front of me, the wheels of Chance and Beau’s trucks kicking up a storm as we pull through the ranch entrance and down the narrow drive. The dirt road was barely wide enough for two trucks to pass each other comfortably.

“I can’t wait for you to see this place,” Dakota tells me from the passenger seat of my truck, Gypsy sticking her head out the window from where she sits on my friend’s lap.

I’d texted Gloria on the drive up here to let her know that I would be leaving the trailer park, thanking her for everything she’d done for me over the last month.

She knew about everything that had been going on with the horses, and she said she was genuinely happy that I had decided to move to the ranch .

I still felt a bit uncertain, especially when I thought about the fact that a lot of these people might not like me because of my family. Other than Weston, who had been hot and cold towards me, the rest of the group had been nothing but welcoming at the thought of me staying here.

We pull up to a massive wooden lodge, a beautiful structure with floor-to-ceiling windows taking up the entire front, with exposed wood and tan stone, and steps leading up to double doors.

“This is the main lodge,” Dakota tells me. “It’s where we all come to eat and do laundry. They’ve also got their offices, and they kinda plan on making it the lobby-type area for the guest ranch.”

“It’s beautiful,” I admit, admiring the building.

“Nobody usually parks up here, just keep following the guys. I’m guessing we’re heading straight to the stables to unload the horses, and then Wes will show you where to take your trailer.”

We follow the road curving past the lodge, a massive deck covered with string lights coming into view with a grill and a few picnic-style tables strewn about the space, its height offering stunning mountain views of the cedar trees and pines in the distance, overlooking the rest of the property.

We pass the bunkhouses and an arena before arriving at the stables near the back of the property, the set of parallel white buildings running the length of the arena, complete with outdoor runs for each of the stalls .

“This place is huge,” I breathe, taking in my surroundings as the fresh spring air rolls through the truck’s windows, my trailer bouncing over the rough dirt.

“You haven’t even seen half of it,” she tells me.

“All four of the guys have their own cabins in each corner of the property, and there are a few extra cabins near the front of the ranch where Rhonda and her husband live, along with Debbie. And over there—” she points towards the east of the property.

“Is where the guest bunkhouses are. They just built them about a year ago for the guest ranch. There’s also a barn and a round pen, all of the turnouts for the horses, and now the hookups, of course. ”

“What do you mean by now ?” I ask.

Were they relatively new?

“Oh—nothing,” Dakota says, as if catching herself.

“Anyways, you see all the way back there?” she asks, pointing to the stretch of rolling land behind the property that stretches over the foot of the mountain. “That’s all part of the ranch, too. Every direction, really. This is all just the main area.”

“How were they able to get this place? It’s massive.”

“I’m sure the guys can tell you the full story, but basically the gist of it is that they started saving up ever since they decided to buy a place when they were all in high school.

They’d had their eyes set on this particular ranch since they turned eighteen.

It was super worn down and barely had any buildings on it.

They saved up their first few years on the circuit, met Chance, and the four of them managed to turn it into what it is today. ”

We reach the stables, Beau showing me where to stall my horses as Chelsea and Dakota help me unload them, before the group heads to the lodge for lunch and I’m left with Weston.

He shows me where to park the camper: At the sole water and electric hookup, a stone’s throw away from the back of his cabin.

I take a quick shower and throw on some clean jeans, a vintage band tee, and my running sneakers before finally pushing myself out the door to go meet the others.

I lose track of the number of times that I nearly turn around on the walk to the lodge, a mental war waging inside of my head as I battle my insecurities.

What if they didn’t like me? What if they saw me as a nuisance at the ranch, or worse, a charity case?

I didn’t do well with large crowds of people.

Funny, coming from a pro rodeo cowgirl, but it was true.

Sure, I could hold my own, and I never let it show.

But growing up in a household where I’d plaster smiles across my face whenever mom had her parties at the estate, or when dad had his investors or business partners over, I’d learned to fake it until I make it.

Genuine conversations, though, with people who have no ulterior motivations? Completely foreign to me.

I take a deep breath as I walk up the steps to the back patio, slipping through to find the place already packed.

The space is bright and airy, with a large open-concept kitchen directly to the right and one long wooden banquet-style table reaching from one end of the room to the other, three-fourths of the way full of who I assume to be the ranch hands.

The end closest to the kitchen is filled with the four guys, Chelsea, Dakota, an older couple, and a beautiful red-headed woman who looks to be around my mom’s age.

“Hailey!” Dakota calls, waving me over to the open seat beside her .

“Make yourself a plate, honey, everything is laid out for sandwiches,” the older woman tells me, her short silver hair styled into a messy bun.

I make my way to the kitchen island, the countertop a gleaming black marble that fits beautifully with the exposed wooden beams and stained concrete floors. Plate in hand, I make my way back to the table, quietly slipping in between Dakota and Chelsea as the conversation ensues around me.

“It’s nice to meet you, honey. I’m Rhonda. This is my husband, Mike, he’s the foreman on the ranch,” the older woman tells me, offering me a kind smile as she takes a bite of her sandwich.

“I’m Debbie,” the other woman tells me, reaching out a hand in greeting. “So, are you going to be helping with meals while you’re here?”

“Oh—uh, I’m not really sure,” I admit, placing my sandwich down on my plate.

“She is,” Weston cuts in, turning to face me next. “Everybody helps around here. We don’t charge for rent or boarding or food or anything, but we do require everyone to lend a helping hand.”

“Besides,” Beau adds. “Over half of us are leaving first thing in the morning for the cattle drive, so you’ll have it easy for the next few days.”

“Cattle drive?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Rafe tells me. “The breeding season is early spring, so the majority of the calves should have been born by now. We spend two days riding up to the back field to bring them down. ”

“Can I come?” I ask.

The last thing I needed was for them to laugh in my face when I admitted I didn’t know the first thing about cooking or cleaning.

Besides, two days in the saddle didn’t sound so bad.

Definitely better than staying here and bonding with people I would likely never see again once I left the ranch.

I felt like an outsider, and I was completely fine keeping it that way.

“Not a chance,” Weston states, taking a bite of his food.

“Why not? You have female ranch hands.”

“Yes, and they have ranching experience.”

“I can swing a rope,” I argue.

Weston puts his food down, setting his arms on the table as he turns to face me fully.

“Have you ever been camping? Not the glamping or whatever y’all call it, but actual open-air camping, with bugs and snakes and all?”

“No, but—”

“Have you ever worked cattle? Spent two full days in the saddle without a break? Shit, have you ever even gone that long without showering?”

The group around us continues their meals in silence, letting Weston take the lead on this one.

“I want to go,” I narrow my eyes at him, my chin tilting up in defiance. “I’m a good rider, and I would make a damn good ranch hand. What was it that you told me the other day about my drive? I can promise you I’d be more useful out there than in the kitchen, and you know it. ”

“Hey, she can take my place,” Chance butts in, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I could sure use the day off after all of that driving.”

Weston looks back to me, studying me curiously.

“Fine. But you’re staying with me the whole time, I want to keep an eye on you.”

“Fine,” I agree, getting back to my meal.

“Better be up and ready bright and early, we’re heading out right after breakfast tomorrow.”

I nod my head, excitement rolling through me at the win.

I was going on a cattle drive. And I knew I should probably be a bit nervous at the prospect of it, but all I could feel was pure joy.

Maybe this is what I needed: Open air, and some peace and quiet to help me relax.

I might not be a ranch hand yet, but I had grit, and I couldn’t wait to rub Weston’s face in my success after I proved him wrong about me.

By the end of the first day’s journey, my ass was basically numb.

Not that I would let Weston hear me complain, I would never hear the end of it.

So I kept my discomfort to myself, and I even insisted on sleeping on a cot in the open air and leaving the only tent to the two other female ranch hands.