Page 94 of The Mountain Echoes

There’s pride in his voice when he speaks of Aria—and I get it. I feel it, too.

Not so long ago, I thought she’d fail. That, I’d then come to her rescue. Now, I’m convinced that she can get this past the finish line, and I want theprivilegeto help get her there.

“Exactly how many cows got sick?”

“A couple. It was mild. Aria caught it in time. Could’ve been a hell of a lot worse.”

I glance at him. “Only a couple?”

He nods, squints toward the barn. “Because of luck, mostly. That and the way Tomas staggers the feeding. The first bale he rolled out yesterday morning was the one with the worst of it—moldy alfalfa mixed in with the filler hay. We had six or seven in that corner pen that got to it first.”

“New supplier?”

He shakes his head. “Same as always. We got it from Pryor.” He spits to the side. “Aria noticed two of the cows acting off mid-afternoon—head drooping, slow to stand, slobberin’ some. She knew right then something was off.”

Earl turns to face me fully, his eyes serious. “The second bale wasn’t touched much yet—mostly surface nibbles. If she hadn’t had us separate the feed by pen rotation this week, it would’ve gone to the whole damn herd.”

My stomach twists. “You’d be calling the vet for twenty head instead of two.”

“Yeah,” Earl says. “We caught it early. Vet pumpedtheir stomachs, started ‘em on activated charcoal and fluids. We’ll watch for signs of toxicosis for a few more days, but odds are they’ll bounce back fine.”

He pulls out his pack of Marlboro Reds. “But I’m telling you right now, this wasn’t storage failure. Mold don’t grow like this unless it was already in the bale. And someone knew what they were doin’.”

Earl gives me a look that says he’s not trying to scare me, only trying to make sure I don’t miss what’s in front of me.

“You got lucky. But next time….”

Earl lights a cigarette. “Since then, she’s making sure we run checks on the mineral tubs and reweigh the feed supplements—making damn sure we don’t have another bad bale.”

I hadn’t realized just how much weight Aria carries every day—how many decisions, worries, and expectations rest on her shoulders. She’s holding this ranch together, holding herself together, and working so damn hard to save her family’s legacy.

My respect for her deepens.

“I’ll help keep an eye on things. I’ll be around more,” I tell Earl.

He snickers as if he already knew that.

I walk up to Aria. She turns when she hears my footsteps. “Something else broken?”

“Not yet.”

However, this is a working ranch, which means something is bound to need fixing. That’s the nature of thebeast. And Aria has very few hands. If she’d had to wrangle the herd and fix the fence, they’d still be at it.

She smiles at me, it’s like the sun shining after a storm. “You’re still here,” she states the obvious.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I like helping you.” The truth, plain and simple.

She tosses the rag she’s been using to wipe her hands onto the fence post. “It’s been a long day. Feel like a short walk? I know a place with a great view.”

“Yeah, Aria, I’d like that.”

But I know now that the only view I need is her.

I still find it incredible how quickly she’s wormed her way under my skin and, dare I say, into my heart. This beautiful, brave woman calls to me in ways no other woman ever has.