Page 8 of The Mountain Echoes

Give it six months, I calculate, and Longhorn will be completely absorbed.

I’ve already gone over the price with Celine, and she liked all the zeroes. It’s a fair market rate. I’m not doing her any favors. She’ll get half, same as Aria, unless Rami tinkered with his will.

Though if you ask Celine, her sister doesn’t deserve a damn thing—she left, after all. Ran away when things got hard.

I disagree on that account. Neither Celine nor Hudson has done much for Longhorn, considering they lived here.

Hudson worked in accounting for a while, but then Rami fired him.

Celine spends more time in Aspen, which is where I get together with her socially.

I’ve been keeping her at an arm’s distance as she’s made it clear she’d like us to start our sexual relationship. But call me traditional! I believe in the sanctity of marriage—even if neither Celine nor her husband seems to.

“Why did she have to come?” Celine mumbles against Hudson’s chest.

“She’ll leave soon,” he assures her.

My mind wanders back to Aria Delgado.

I can see her standing over her father’s grave, huddled in that inappropriate coat.

I’ve been told she’s the flighty, selfish older sister—the one who bolted to California chasing dreams and men. That’s the story most people tell around Wildflower Canyon.

But talk to the folks who really knew Aria, and the accounts don’t all line up. Some say she had her reasons.

Still, the facts are facts: she left, and she never came back. Not for holidays. Not for harvest. Not until Rami died.

“She may not want to sell,” Nadine warned me just yesterday when I met her at the co-op in town.

It’s just bluster, I’m sure of it.

Resurrecting Longhorn will take time, grit, and a whole lot of resources—none of which I imagine a woman who walked away from her roots is willing to invest, especially given the ranch’s financial state.

She’s not going to last—not when cattle die, fences snap, and winter hangs on like a bad grudge. She knows fuck all about farming. She apparently works at some fancy winery in Napa Valley—that ain’t gonna help her in an honest-to-God ranch in Wildflower Canyon.

I mean, what is she going to do with it? Walk through the farm and pastures in those high heels she wore to the funeral?

By the time we arrive at the ranch house, Celine has fixed her makeup, and the couple is back to showing off their golden glow.

In Wildflower Canyon and Aspen, Celine is well-liked and popular.

She gets invited to all the society nonsense that we now have because of people like Kaz Chase and the tech bro lot moving here. She’s also involved with some of the volunteer work that the city does.

Her marriage might be in the toilet, but I don’t judge her for that. People stay together for all kinds of reasons.

“Oh, Duke, thanks so much for coming.” Celine gives Duke Wilder, owner of the biggest ranch in Colorado, a hug. He’s known her for a while and likes her, as I do. Elena, his wife, is not a hugger, so she extends a hand and shakes Celine’s, smiles politely, says “I’m sorry for your loss,” and then walks up to me, rolling her eyes. She’s one of the few people who openly don’t like Celine, which includes my sister. They both say there’s something fake about her.

Elena is an excellent horse trainer and a close friend, but I don’t know if she’s the best judge of character, considering she’s hooked up with Duke.

He’s an asshole, but he loves her and she loves him, so I haven’t had any reason to break his bones…lately.

“You know she’s already asked Duke if he’ll buy the place, in case you back out,” Elena tells me.

Celine is being careful, and I don’t blame her for that. Deals fall apart for a whole host of reasons, and she’s trying to protect herself. I wish she’d talked to me about it, but I don’t hold it against her. I’ll talk to her, calm her down, and we’ll figure this out.

“Come on, let’s get a drink,” I suggest.

We walk to the bar in the large living room where the party is being held.