Page 3 of Ace of Spades (Hidden Creek Ranch #1)

HAILEY

If I thought the universe had dealt me my fair share of embarrassment for the weekend, the next morning had proved me wrong.

I’d been walking Vegas around the grounds, trying to get the ants out of her pants before loading up for the big drive back to Montana, and had stumbled upon none other than Weston.

He’d been working with a young grey gelding, not older than two or three I’d guess, and most likely desensitizing him from the looks of it.

I had been so caught up watching the way he effortlessly worked the young horse, loping him in circles through the fresh snow, that I’d walked right into a damn branch.

I still remember the thwack that had rang through the air, the wind knocked clean out of me as I’d hit the ground. I still remember the cocky smirk on Weston’s face as he rode right up to me, my mare’s reins in hand, with that infuriating dimple and a playful gleam in his eye.

“You do know that there are easier ways to get my attention than throwing yourself at my feet, right? ” he had told me.

Arrogant prick.

I roll my shoulder, easing the tension knotting behind my neck, glancing at the side mirror to check on the trailer again as we pass the worn green sign indicating that we’d finally made it back to Cedar Creek.

The Main Street in town is fairly quiet this time in the morning, save for a few trucks parked outside of the local coffee shop and the feed store.

Cedar Creek was one of those typical small towns that you would expect to find in the middle of the mountains.

One grocery store, two gas stations—one on either end of town, only about a five-minute drive from each other—a coffee shop, a diner, a feed store, and not much else.

All family-owned, of course. The people here seemed tight-knit, from the little I had seen.

I had avoided town for the most part, after all.

Why my parents had wanted to move here? Other than the resort project, I had no idea.

I guess I could see the appeal in the stunning Mountain Views, the fresh smell of cedar and pine, and the numerous lakes to cool off in the summer.

And I supposed it was merely an hour-long drive to Canyon Springs, in case I ever wanted to go visit Ava or do some shopping.

We had moved around every handful of years growing up for my dad’s business.

He always wanted to make sure he could supervise whatever project he had going on at the time, but that meant that we were packing up and leaving any time I made any real friends.

In the end, I’d stopped bothering with friends for the most part.

Other than remaining friends on Facebook and the occasional happy birthday text, any contact would diminish and eventually fade.

Goodbyes were easier when there weren’t any to give.

I’d made a few good friends in college, enough to contemplate staying in Oklahoma, but after a few months struggling to find a job, I’d eventually found myself back in Montana with my parents.

As it turns out, it wasn’t easy balancing work with rodeos every weekend.

Thankfully, my dad promised me a job at the resort that wouldn’t get in the way of my passion.

Now I just had to decide whether or not I wanted to remain in Cedar Creek indefinitely.

If not here, then where? I felt like I was free-floating, with no roots to keep me grounded. I couldn’t remember a time when a home had felt like… home. If I was being honest with myself, the living quarters in my horse trailer were the closest I’d felt to having a place of my own.

My tires crunch over the gravel driveway as I turn in through the white gates. The cool mountain breeze and the faint smell of fresh-cut grass hit me as I roll down the windows, Gypsy sticking her head out excitedly, most likely ready for this grueling two-day drive to be over.

I slow the truck to a crawl, the trailer bumping behind me as I take in the estate like I’m still not used to seeing it—because I’m not.

It looks like something out of a Southern Living magazine, all pristine lines and wraparound porches, and that ridiculous guesthouse that I now call home.

Mom calls it a “quaint cottage”, but it’s bigger than most people’s actual houses.

Nestled right beside the main house, it’s painted to match—white siding, black shutters, and a roof like weathered cedar shingles.

Even the landscaping looks curated to perfection, with mom’s flowers blooming.

The main house rises in the background, grand and symmetrical with more windows than I can count, and a porch wide enough to host a wedding reception.

The house itself isn’t any larger than the one we had in Canyon Springs, but the stretch of land here provides us with space that we hadn’t had. My parents had thought of me when they had found this place, fully set up with a twenty-horse state-of-the-art stable and a covered indoor arena.

My dad had horses too, though I couldn’t remember the last time he had actually gotten on one.

At this point, it felt more like he kept them for aesthetic reasons more than anything.

But the arena—the arena was all mine. Well, mine and Levi’s, the stable hand and groundskeeper.

The older gentleman had moved here from Canyon Springs with us and stayed with his wife—our personal cook, Gracie—in the smaller guest cabin on the far end of the property.

I didn’t spot Levi as I pulled up to the stables, unloading all of my tack and turning the horses loose in one of the pastures out back to stretch their legs. He must have been out riding or tending to the estate.

Pulling my truck up to the circular driveway of the main house after unhooking my trailer, Gypsy follows hot on my heels as I push through the double doors, ready to hunt down some coffee.

I’d stopped about halfway from Texas to get some rest, sleeping for a few hours in my truck with the hood of my hoodie pulled over my eyes.

The gas station coffee early this morning had been fine, but one cup was hardly enough after nonstop driving for two days.

“Hails, just in time!” my dad exclaims from his seat at the dining table as I turn the corner into the large open-concept space. “I was just about to show your mom and Gracie the new mockup for the resort. Wanna see?”

“Sure,” I tell him, walking over to kiss him on the cheek.

“I had the architects working on the project make a digital 3D rendering, I checked it out when it came in earlier and it looks absolutely amazing.”

My mom shoots me a perfectly poised grin from the farmhouse-style kitchen.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Hi, mom.”

My mother is the kind of woman to make heads turn without even trying. And it’s not because she’s loud or flashy, but because she’s polished to absolute perfection.

She’ll tell you she was raised on the land, that her daddy taught her to ride before she could walk, but I hadn’t seen that side of her ever since dad’s company blew up, and she seemed to change overnight.

Gone were the days of trail rides and picnics, her new version of ranch life revolving around catered luncheons instead.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen her around a horse unless it was being used as a photo op.

Her perfectly bleached blonde hair was styled into shoulder-length waves, a stark contradiction to the nearly waist-length jet-black shade of my own.

Her nails are long, almond- shaped, and always freshly manicured, and she dresses like she should be on the cover of a western magazine. Western-chic, she calls it.

“So right here we have the main building,” my dad tells us, pointing to one of the renderings shown on his laptop screen as my mom and I hover behind him.

“You can see where the spa and workout center will be. The restaurant is going to be in this back corner over here, with stunning views of the mountains.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” mom says.

Gracie saunters into the kitchen, a soft smile gracing her lips as she spots me.

“Would you like some coffee, Hailey?”

“Please,” I tell her. There was no such thing as too much coffee.

“Then over here we have the guest lodges, and out this way will be where we’ll have the VIP cabins for exclusive members. What do you guys think—do you love it?”

“I love it, dad.”

“Fantastic work, William. When does construction start?”

“Should start any day now, we’re just waiting on a few more permits. And to add to the amazing news, I managed to snag that trailer park in town.”

“The one that was keeping you from building the private airport?”

“That’s the one! The owner of the property was heavily in debt, so we made him a more than generous offer that he just couldn’t refuse. We still have a few difficulties to work through since there are still ongoing leases, but we should have it figured out soon. ”

“That’s amazing honey.”

“That’s great,” I tell him.

Gracie walks back to the table, placing a cup of coffee in front of me—no cream or sugar, just how I like it. She and Levi had been with our family for a few years now, long enough for her to know my drink order by heart.

“How was your rodeo?” she asks.

Mom and Dad turn from the laptop to face me, as if finally remembering the reason I had been gone all weekend.

“Of course, I completely forgot! How did you do?” Dad asks.

“I didn’t place in the breakaway roping, but I got first in barrels.”

“Oh, sweetie! Congratulations, you must be ecstatic,” mom tells me.

“I am. Casino really pulled it off, she’s definitely a rocket.”

“Well, she outta be with the price I paid for her,” my dad scoffs.

“Did you have someone video it? Brad was there, wasn’t he?”

“Scott said he and his partner placed third in the team roping,” my dad chimes in. Scott was Brad’s father and dad’s business partner, the two of them having gotten quite close since starting the company.

“He didn’t get to watch, our events were too close together,” I lie.

“Bummer.”

“Maybe you guys could come watch me compete soon? ”

“I would love that, sweetheart. Things are just really busy right now with the plans for the resort, but I promise I’ll try.”

My heart sinks to my stomach. Well, there goes any hope I might have had.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“You know what—why don’t we go out to celebrate tonight? It’s a bit of a drive back to Canyon Springs but how amazing does a steak from Regino’s sound?”

“Sure.”

“Gracie, you can take the night off. I’m taking the ladies out to dinner,” Dad tells our cook.

“Sure thing, Mr. Sorrels.”

“Now, back to the resort—Hailey, I talked to the team and I think I have a good shot at getting you that marketing role. That is, if you plan on staying in Cedar Creek?”

“I’m not really sure,” I admit.

“Have you thought about where you would want to go?” Mom asks.

“I don’t know,” I confess. With rodeo and job searching, I hadn’t really put much thought into it. Wherever I ended up would be a fresh start, but the thought of leaving the only two people that had been constants in my life was quite frankly terrifying.

“Well you know you’re always welcome to stay here as long as you’d like,” my dad tells me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you. It’s just—I don’t know if the small-town life is for me. I loved Canyon Springs, but Cedar Creek is just so… I don’t know, I just don’t feel like we’re welcome.”

“Why do you say that? Did something happen? ”

My dad’s features turn worried, a threat in his tone.

“No,” I lie.

“You know you can tell me. Did somebody say something?”

“I mean, not exactly. I just ran into a few of the guys from town at the rodeo, and they didn’t seem to love having us here.”

“Well not everybody is open to change. It might take a little bit of time, but they’ll come around. Having the resort here is going to do wonders for their businesses, they just can’t see that yet.”

Except for the fact that you’re bringing in a bunch of chains and small businesses are dropping left and right.

“Right,” I breathe.

“Who was it?” he asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Weston Langford and his friends.”

“Of course,” Dad scoffs. “They see us as competition for their little guest ranch that they’ve been trying to get going.

It’s hopeless if you ask me, but for some reason, they think that we’re going to get in the way of their business.

The thing is, they’re not gonna have any business to begin with. ”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Just stay away from them. Especially that Langford kid, he’s bad news.

His mom is one of the tenants at the trailer park that’s given me the most issues.

She seems to love that place for some reason and doesn’t want it torn down.

Not sure why, the place is practically falling apart.

She’s like a pestering gnat that has nothing better to do than try to make our life harder just for the sake of it. Trailer trash, the both of them. ”

I wince at his harsh words. I hadn’t known that Weston’s mom lived at the trailer park.

It made more sense now why he hadn’t exactly taken well to me when we met in Texas.

First, my dad was threatening their business.

And now, my dad was essentially his mom’s new landlord. No wonder he wasn’t a fan.

“Take it from me,” dad adds. “Those boys are nothing but trouble. It’d be wise of you to keep your distance.”

Don’t I know it.