Page 7 of Huckleberry Hill (Saddles & Spurs #1)

Chapter Six

The Ranch

My phone vibrated, waking me. I reached for it on the nightstand, wondering who could possibly be calling me.

I pressed the answer button. Salem and Poet’s faces filled the screen.

“We woke her up,” Poet said as she pushed up the black glasses on her nose.

“Hey there, sleepy head,” Salem joked. “You ready for our four-way?”

“Can I stay in this exact position?” I asked, my face smushed into the pillow.

“Fine by me,” Salem said. “Hang on, Wyn’s calling in.”

My other roommate’s face appeared in the corner. She had a glass of wine in her hand and her blonde hair was in a messy top bun. “Okay, I’m here.”

Poet tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay. Start at the beginning. Now that I have a visual of Declan, I can fully picture the story when you tell it.”

“Yeah, like, wow. They grow them hot and tall in Idaho,” Wyn said.

“You voluntarily left Idaho?” Poet asked Salem. “You traded chaps for suits? You’re insane.”

“So this bear,” Salem said, glossing past Poet’s comment. “How big are we talking?”

I told them the story. Salem kept smirking at me because she already knew the nitty gritty details.

“He was shirtless? ” Poet gasped.

“He gave you his bed?” Wyn asked. “Did you sniff his pillow?”

“No,” I denied .

“You lie.” Poet giggled.

“So, when are you having sex with him?” Wyn asked bluntly.

“I’m not,” I stated emphatically. “Aside from Dad’s number-one rule on the ranch—you don’t mess around with a Powell daughter—I’m not ready to date anyone right now.”

“Who said anything about dating?” Poet asked. “Get your jollies.”

“You are so PG,” Wyn said with a laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” Salem told me.

“I’m not an idiot,” I defended.

“You’re an idiot if you don’t ride that cowboy,” Salem added. “He’s so your type.”

“ That’s your type?” Poet asked. “And you were going to marry Gianni?”

“Hadley was trying to prove something,” Salem stated.

“I wasn’t trying to prove anything,” I defended. “That’s your territory.”

“Ouch,” Salem said lightly. “But yeah, that’s true.”

“No but seriously,” Wyn said. “He’s hot. Does he have anything else going for him?”

“He’s quippy,” I admitted. “A quippy cowboy.”

“Ah, so he’s smart and masculine,” Poet said longingly. “I’m surrounded by oat milk men in skinny jeans.”

“When I saw that video of Declan, I swear I could feel the testosterone through the phone,” Wyn said. She took a drink of wine. “Hang on a second.” She paused for a moment. “Crap. The kid needs me.”

She set her phone and wine down and momentarily left our conversation.

“How was your meeting?” I asked Salem.

“Good,” she said. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Have to,” I said. “At least while Wyn’s gone. Can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Go to Gianni’s apartment and get the few things I left there, and then leave the key with the security desk. My engagement ring is in the nightstand. Will you take that to his place, too?”

Salem’s eyes saddened. “Yeah, twin. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll go with her,” Poet added. “Wouldn’t want her to do something Mount St. Salem like.”

Salem wrinkled her nose, pretending to be offended. “What would I do?”

“Your sister just had her heart broken. What wouldn’t you do in the name of revenge?” Poet demanded.

Salem paused. “Yeah, you should come with me.”

The corner square shook and a moment later Wyn appeared again. “Okay, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” I assured her. “How are you liking this new family?”

“It’s okay,” Wyn said. “The dad is never around. He works like ninety hours a week. The mom is a part-time parent, but whenever she feels guilty, she just gives me money. The kid though. He’s a fucking trip. Little boys. Whew. Exhausting.”

I caught Salem looking at me, her expression intense.

There was a knock on my bedroom door. “Hadley?”

“Come in,” I called to Dad.

He opened the door and stepped into the doorway. “You’re awake. I wasn’t sure. I checked on you earlier and you were snoring like a buzz saw.”

There was laughter on the other end of my phone.

“Who you talking to?” Dad asked. “Salem?”

I nodded. “And Wyn and Poet.” I flipped the camera around. “Say hi.”

Dad waved.

“Hi, Mr. Powell!” Poet said.

“Looking snazzy, Mr. Powell,” Wyn added.

Dad grinned. “You guys coming to the ranch for Christmas?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Poet said.

“Hopefully I can get the time off,” Wyn said. “But yes, count me in.”

My father and Salem still hadn’t actually said anything directly to one another.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your conversation,” Dad said, his face blanking. He looked at me. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Dad retreated and closed the door behind him.

“I stand corrected,” Wyn said. “I understand why you won’t have sex with Declan. Your dad looks like he could kill a man with his bare hands.”

“Elk Ridge is a thousand acres,” Salem said. “No one would find Declan’s body.”

“You’re joking,” Poet said. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“About the size of the ranch? Never. You know size always matters,” Salem said.

“Okay, I’m seeing myself out of this conversation,” I announced. “Dad looked like he wanted to talk to me about something. I better go find out what it’s about.”

“Talk to you later,” Wyn said. “I’m signing off too and watching Netflix in bed.”

“I’ve got a hot date with the slush pile,” Poet said. “Though they really should call it the flush pile. Where creative books go to die.”

“What about you?” I asked Salem. “Any fun plans tonight?”

“I actually have to change and go have a drink with my boss. Networking thing,” she said.

“So glamorous,” Wyn said. “I’m about to put on my under-eye patches.”

“Over and out,” I said before clicking off.

My phone darkened and I set it on the nightstand. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and sat there for a moment, letting the last of the sleep clear from my brain.

I finally got up and went to my closet to pull out an old hoodie that was two sizes too big. It was worn, faded, and so comfortable. Salem hadn’t allowed me to bring it to New York, but every time I was home, I lounged around in it.

Dad was sitting at the dining room table, glasses on the end of his nose as he looked over a stack of papers.

“Tell me why life gets summed up in bills and useless paperwork?” Dad asked without looking up.

“You could have everything sent electronically,” I pointed out. “Save on the hassle of having to shred everything.”

“And paper cuts,” he said, finally giving me his attention. “And do you really think I’m going to switch everything to a computer when I still have a landline?”

“You’re a regular time capsule.” I leaned down and kissed his cheek.

“You slept hard,” he commented. “I thought about waking you up so you wouldn’t have trouble sleeping tonight, but Muddy told me to let you be.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Need anything while I’m up?”

“Orange juice, please,” he said.

I wandered into the kitchen toward the refrigerator. “You wanted to talk to me about something, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. I had Declan and the boys ride out and place the trail cams so we can find where the bear is roaming. I don’t want you walking to the stables alone at night.”

“What makes you think I’ll go to the stables at night?” I opened the cabinet and pulled out two glasses.

“I know you,” he said. “Whenever you’ve got something on your mind, you go to the stables.”

“So what’s the solution?” I poured the orange juice and then put the carton back in the fridge. “I’m not going to wake you up in the middle of the night just so you can walk with me.”

“I said I don’t want you walking to the stables alone at night, but I also know that’s not gonna stop you from doing it.”

I brought the glasses of juice into the dining room and set his down away from the stack of papers.

“Promise me you’ll take the bear spray with you,” he said. “And if you don’t take the bear spray, you carry.”

“I promise,” I said. “Let’s hope I don’t have to use either.”

“From your lips,” he murmured. He took off his glasses and then gestured to the chair next to me.

“Oh no, we’re having a real talk now, aren’t we?” I quipped, but I pulled out the chair and took a seat nonetheless.

“Tell me what happened between you and Gianni,” he said.

I pursed my lips. “We ended our engagement.”

“Yeah, so you said.” He cocked his head to the side. “But why do I feel like I don’t have the full story?”

“Because you’re smart and I could never lie to you,” I said. “Not that I have lied to you. Salem says I can’t lie.”

“Look, this is important. I need you to be a straight shooter right now.”

“Oh, goody, here we go?—”

“Reel in the snark, would ya?” He smiled, easing the tension.

I mimed a fishing rod and pretended to reel.

“You don’t seem too upset,” Dad said. “I mean, for a broken engagement, shouldn’t you be crying? Yelling? Something?”

“I went through that already.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “He ended it a week ago. I got all the tears out of me already.”

“He ended it,” Dad repeated.

“Yep.”

“And you cried.”

“I did.”

He peered at me. “Salem’s right. You’re a shit liar.”

“ Dad. ”

“Okay, I’ll back off. But when my daughter flies home in the middle of the night and then barely says a word about her broken engagement, it makes me . . . concerned.”

“Don’t be concerned,” I said.

“Just tell me why it ended.”

“We just weren’t . . . compatible. And we both knew it. And we were trying to make something work that was destined to fail.”

“Why was it destined to fail?”

“Because he’s a restauranteur with deep roots in the city and we’re not . . .”

“Compatible,” he repeated. “All right. I’ll accept that. For now.”

“Is the interrogation over?” My lips twitched. “Can I leave?”

“This wasn’t an interrogation,” he protested. “I just . . . oh, hell. Hadley, you don’t seem at all heartbroken. And that worries me more than anything.”

“I was heartbroken. But I’m on the mend.”

He peered at me, as if he could silently get me to admit the truth. But it wasn’t a truth I was ready to discuss. There was so much wrapped up in it.

My infertility.

The fact that Gianni didn’t want me because of it.

His love being conditional.

I’d been willing to make a life with him in New York even though I didn’t love it there. But I’d loved him enough to sacrifice what I wanted for his dreams and his happiness.

I’d loved him enough to forgo the life I envisioned for myself, willing to build a new one with him. He just hadn’t been willing to do the same for me.

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise,” Dad said. “A redirection, you know?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

In the darkest part of my soul, if I admitted it to myself, I was more cut up about my infertility than the loss of Gianni. And that said it all.

“So, you were talking to your sister,” Dad prodded.

“Yeah.”

“Why won’t she talk to me, Hadley?”

I loved my father. But Salem was my twin. We’d shared a womb at the same time. And I wouldn’t betray her, just like she wouldn’t ever betray me.

“She’s trying to figure out her life, Dad. Just give her the space to do it. She’ll come around.”

“I’ve given her five years,” he murmured. “She barely calls. She doesn’t come home unless she knows you’re going to be here and even then, she makes a last-minute excuse not to come.”

I swallowed. “It’s harder for her. She was Mom’s favorite.”

He looked at me. “Your mother didn’t have favorites.”

I smiled. “Daddy. Come on. It doesn’t hurt my feelings.”

“Kathleen understood Salem in a way that I never could. And it wasn’t just because she was her mother. It was something else.”

“Mom was Salem’s safe place,” I said quietly. “She could be her absolute rebellious, rotten self. And Mom would just . . . love her anyway.”

“So did I. Even when she was difficult, I never stopped loving Salem.”

“No,” I agreed. “You didn’t. But the things you loved in Mom were things you didn’t understand in your daughter.” I placed my hand on his and gave it a squeeze. “And when Mom died . . .”

“She wanted to leave. Salem always wanted to leave.”

“Nomad spirit,” I said with a rueful smile.

He squeezed my hand. “I hope the nomad comes home. I hope she knows how much I love her.”

“She does. Which makes it that much harder for her.”

“I hate the reason you came home. But I’m glad you’re here.”

Emotion thickened my throat. “I’m glad I’m home too.”