Page 44 of Cryptic Curse

“I’m impressed.I didn’t know the Bellamys were so hands-on with their cattle.”

He grins.“I grew up branding, baling hay, patching fence lines.My brothers and I didn’t get off easy.”He looks off into the distance.“But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

As we reach the far end of the deck, the view opens up to a shallow valley where a herd moves slowly in the distance, the sound of lowing carried faintly on the breeze.

“Beyond that rise is a beautiful creek,” he says.“We run the cattle through there in early fall.That was my favorite time of year as a kid—watching the herd move in a single wave through the water and trees.Makes you feel small, in a good way.”

I look up at him as the wind teases my hair.“This place—it’s like something out of a storybook.”

He shrugs.“It’s home.And I wanted you to see it—not just because it’s beautiful, but because it’s a part of me.”He frowns.“I mean, it’s a part of the Bellamys.All of it is.”

My heart flutters.He almost admitted that he likes me.I bite my lip.

Hawk clears his throat.“Maybe we could sit for a little bit.Enjoy our coffee, the evening.”He flashes me another smile.“The good company.”

He guides me to one of the wooden benches that line the edge of the deck.The wood is cool beneath me, a contrast to Hawk’s warmth beside me.He pours coffee for each of us.

“Do you always have coffee on hand?”I ask, taking a sip.

He chuckles, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.“I find it helps with late-night paperwork.I don’t do as much hands-on work these days.I do a lot of administrative stuff with my dad.”He frowns.“At least, before his…incident.”

I don’t know how to respond to that.The official story is that Austin Bellamy tried to kill himself, but I’ve overheard whispers from Raven and Vinnie that suggest there’s more to it than that.

For a while we sit in silence.The only sounds are the distant calls of the night birds and the soft rustling of leaves.The coffee is warm and rich.

Hawk reaches over and lays his hand over mine.His touch is gentle, almost hesitant.He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I don’t pull away.

“Daniela,” he finally says, his gaze on our hands rather than my face.“I’m glad you stayed.”

His words stir something inside me, a warmth that has nothing to do with the coffee or his touch.

“Me too,” I whisper, looking up at him.

His blue eyes are darker in the moonlight, but no less kind.

“Do you want to see more of the ranch?”He stands and offers his hand to help me up.“There’s a lot more than what I can point out from the deck.”

I hesitate for a moment but then take his hand.His grip is firm yet gentle.He pulls me to my feet and we descend the stairs that connect the deck to the ranch grounds.The moonlight casts long shadows on the ground, making the land seem even more vast and mysterious.

As we stroll along the quiet paths, Hawk continues to point out landmarks—a barn here, a cattle paddock there, an old windmill that’s been on the property for generations.His voice is low, soothing.

He stops suddenly and I almost bump into him.

“Look,” he says softly, pointing ahead of us.

Framed in the silvery moonlight are a family of deer grazing on a patch of grass.They raise their heads as we approach and then return to their meal, seemingly undisturbed by our presence.

I blink, a little stunned.“Deer?On a cattle ranch?”

He chuckles.“All the time.This land isn’t just for cows.The deer like it too—same pastures, same woods, same water.Plenty to eat and enough cover to feel safe.”

I watch as one takes a few tentative steps.The cows in the distance don’t even flinch.

“Do they ever get in the way?”I ask.

“Nah,” Hawk says.“Deer and cattle mostly stay out of each other’s way.Cows are grazers—grass, hay, stuff low to the ground.Deer are browsers.They go for leaves, shrubs, acorns.Different diets, different rhythms.Unless there’s a drought, the two don’t compete much.”

I follow the movement of the deer as they slip between fence posts.One pauses to sniff the air, and I hold my breath without meaning to.