Page 62 of The Wrong Ride Home (Wildflower Canyon #1)

elena

A month later, we were back in Dallas.

I thought Duke would be climbing the walls, demanding updates on the case every hour, but instead, he’d checked out completely, claiming he didn’t give a damn.

He’d done what he had to do, and now he was looking forward—not back.

To my surprise, part of that meant selling Ironwood Development Group.

“Why?” I asked him when he first floated the idea.

“Don’t like the business,” he replied flatly. “I want to protect the land for the future, not develop it until there’s no nature left.”

I’d have worried about what this would mean for him emotionally, but for the fact he was content. I liked being on the ranch. He liked working with Hunt, me, and the hands. He liked being with me. He didn’t like working on land development deals.

“We don’t need the money,” he told me one night. “ We got plenty. Even after paying all those inheritance taxes and stuff, we’re still loaded.”

“Who is this we you keep talkin’ about?” I wondered.

“Don’t be impertinent,” he snapped.

“Again, with those big words. I just have a GED, bossman,” I teased.

Being together had healed us both, and he wasn’t the only one who had noticeably changed; I had as well. I was more relaxed and less of a “ bitch with a stick up her ass, ” according to Roy.

The ranch was finding its way after the crazy months we’d had following Nash’s death. We were rebuilding the barn and stable, making plans on how to make the ranch more profitable while safeguarding the land from greedy developers like Piper Novak.

I kept an eye on Duke, and just when I started to think he was finally settling, Kaz called.

The U.S. Attorney’s Office in Dallas wanted a meet with Duke. Neither of us was comfortable with the idea. We didn’t want to get tangled up in legal battles—we just wanted to move on and live the quiet life we’d built.

But that was never going to be possible. Not with a ranch this big, sitting on prime real estate. Like it or not, Duke would always have to navigate the political machinery to protect his legacy and keep Wilder Ranch in the family for generations to come.

When Kaz explained why we needed to be in Dallas, we knew we didn’t have a choice. In a last-ditch attempt to sink her claws into her son one last time, Gloria had told the DA she wouldn’t negotiate a deal unless Duke was there.

Mac joined us upon Kaz’s advice. He was back to being Kaz Chase, rich and pampered developer—and Duke and I had kept our word to him, not revealing his cover to anyone, though Duke had to tell Kaz that he’d let Hunt in on his suspicions before Kaz read us in.

The room we were ushered into was cold and impersonal, which I expected—glass walls, steel-gray furniture, and the faint scent of burnt coffee and desperation—a little like the observation room we’d been in.

Gloria was already seated at the long conference table when we walked in.

She was dressed to the nines, as always—gray silk blouse, black tailored slacks, pearls that probably cost more than most people’s cars.

She was the perfect picture of a grieving widow, never mind that she was only grieving for herself.

“I want only Duke.” Gloria stood up when she saw us. She looked up at Duke with wide, watery eyes, the same ones that had manipulated him his entire life.

“You get all three of us or none of us,” Duke told her and then waited.

“My baby,” she whispered.

The DA, an African American woman, looked like she was at the end of her rope with Gloria. She waved a hand to the empty chairs, and we were seated.

“Duke, can’t you come sit next to me?” Gloria patted the chair by her like he was a child, and she just wanted a hug.

“Gloria, this is far enough,” Duke muttered .

She folded her arms and looked straight ahead. “If he won’t sit with me, I’m not doing this.”

The DA sighed. “Fine, let’s get you back to processing and?—”

“No, no, please ,” Gloria’s lawyer, a white-haired man in a suit, implored. “She’s just distraught. Duke is her only son.”

“Rusty, let’s get this show on the road,” Duke instructed the lawyer who he obviously knew.

The lawyer mopped his forehead with a handkerchief.

After that, no one spoke for a while and, finally, the DA let out an angry sound. “Mrs. Wilder, you asked for this meeting.”

Gloria let out a shaky breath. “I want to talk to my son.”

The DA didn’t look impressed. “Then, for the love of everythin’ holy, please talk.”

Gloria’s lips trembled as she looked at me. “Duke, sweetheart, you have to help me.” She pressed a delicate hand to her chest. “I’m your mother. I know I made mistakes, but I did everything for you. I?—”

“Not here to help you, Gloria,” Duke cut her off. “I was told you won’t deal unless I’m here. I’m here. Make a deal.”

She flinched.

“Mrs. Wilder, you know we have enough evidence to put you away. You go to trial, and I promise you a jury finds out you tried to kill your son, they’ll give you the death penalty, no questions asked,” the DA warned her .

“Now, let’s not scare Gloria,” the mild-mannered Rusty interjected.

“I’m not scaring her, Mr. Tinder, I’m just laying out the facts.”

Gloria licked her lips and batted her eyelashes. “But…but what if Duke decides not to press charges? Then what?”

The DA looked at Rusty as if asking, “ Has she lost her ever-lovin’ mind?”

“Actually, Gloria, since I was the one who got shot thanks to you hiring a hitman to kill your son, I’m the one who would have to drop charges, which I won’t,” I said with a great amount of satisfaction.

I wasn’t petty, not usually, but this woman had ruined way too many lives, and I hated her entitled ass.

“You don’t speak to me,” Gloria screeched.

The DA shook her head. “Mr. Tinder, is your client acting this way because she thinks she may have an insanity defense? ‘Cause I can tell you that ain’t gonna work.”

Gloria began to sob. “I never meant for any of this to happen. Duke, you have to believe me.”

“ Christ ,” Duke muttered. He looked at the DA. “Do we have to be here for this? ‘Cause we run a ranch, and we don’t have time to fly into Dallas for this shit.”

“I am sorry, Mr. Wilder. Mr. Tinder here assured us that his client would behave.”

The way she spoke made me think that Gloria had been pulling the woe-is-me routine throughout the investigation. She had been arrested, but she’d managed to get a judge who had bought her sob story to give her bail with an ankle monitor.

“So, can we go now?” Duke got up.

Gloria moved so fast that her chair fell down. “Duke, baby, please.”

“What do you want me to do, Gloria?” Duke asked, exasperated, flinging his hands up.

“I can’t help you. You tried to kill me, and Elena got shot.

You paid someone money that my father gave to you to hire a freaking hitman who has confessed.

Your only chance is to tell these people how Piper Novak is involved, and maybe you’ll catch a break.

But that’s it. I cannot help you. No one can when you go around hiring fucking assassins, you crazy bitch. ”

Gloria looked like Duke hit her. The DA looked like she was about to bust out with laughter. Rusty looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him. Mac and I remained impassive, though it took some effort. It just seemed vulgar to laugh, though I wanted to.

Gloria’s gaze flicked to me, sharp and assessing. “Is this because of her ? You’re just like your father, you see some nasty cunt, and you follow it around.”

“Way to keep it classy, Gloria,” I stated, shaking my head.

Duke may have thought this was a waste of our time, but I was entertained as hell.

"Unless Mrs. Wilder has something of actual substance to say, I’d say this meeting is over." Mac sighed as he stood, and we followed suit, taking his lead.

The DA muttered, “I agree. ”

Gloria’s expression crumbled into something ugly and desperate. “Duke, please! You can’t turn your back on me!”

He looked down at the woman who had spent three decades controlling his life like a damn puppeteer. “I turned my back on you months ago.”

That seemed to be the trigger, and finally, Gloria talked and made a deal. It looked like this time Piper would be going down, which was a damn relief. That was the good news. The bad news was that they’d offered Gloria a deal.

“She’ll serve time,” Mac assured Duke as we waited at a bar at the airport for our flight back to Aspen.

“How much?”

“She’ll be eligible for parole in seven years; considering how good she’s at playin’ people, I’d say she’ll be out in three and a half at most,” Mac surmised.

We got back home late, but we were both too restive to go to bed, so we went for a walk.

Summer had settled over Colorado, wrapping the land in a warmth that smelled like sunbaked earth and sweet hay. The stars sprawled across the sky in a way you never saw in a city, and the air was pleasant with the scent of wildflowers.

Duke had been quiet since we boarded the plane. Not brooding—just settling, like a storm that had finally blown through, leaving behind the eerie stillness that comes after something shatters.

I let him be, knowing he’d speak when he was ready.

We walked past the paddocks, past the stables that were almost built, past the scars the fire had left behind.

The ranch had survived. We had survived.

Finally, he breathed out. “Three and a half years.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“She’s gonna walk out of there and expect me to be waiting.”

“Doesn’t matter what she expects. You won’t be waiting.”

“No,” he agreed. “I won’t.”

The cicadas droned in the distance.

I reached for his hand, and he took it, lacing his fingers through mine.

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” he said, voice low, rough. “I’m done with her.”

“Okay.”

We stopped near the river, the water catching the moonlight, silver and endless.

Duke turned to me, his free hand cupping my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Thank you for coming with me and taking care of me,” he murmured.

Emotion filled my eyes, but I shook it off. “You’re stuck with me, cowboy.”

His lips quirked. “I love you, Elena, my Florecita .” The words were quiet but sure, steady as the land beneath us .

My chest ached, full and warm. “I know,” I whispered back. “I love you, too, mi cielo , very much.”

His mouth caught mine, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that said more than words ever could.

We had been through hell and back, and we were still standing, together . The future stretched out before us, wide open and waiting, and I was ready to run toward it without fear.