Page 7 of Wrangling Nash

“I’m not there to make friends. I’m there to live and work, and that’s it. The terms of his will say I just have to live on the property, work and learn the ropes for a year, not that I must make friends.”

“But won’t you be bored?”

Definitely.

“I don’t know,” I rubbed my temples hard at the headache Stevie was giving me with the questions she was asking.

I hadn’t even had a chance to process this news, let alone think about what I’d be doing in any downtime I might have on the ranch. Living in my grandfather’s old ranch house, all by myself, made me nervous, but I wasn’t giving myself a chance to think that far ahead, or I feared I'd back out.

“Why don’t you come with me?” I said, grinning as I finished packing, zipped up my luggage and set it on the ground. I knew Stevie wouldn’t be caught dead working on a ranch, especially not for twelve long months. “Grandpa included a clause that said if you decided to join me, we could split the profits if I sell.”

“If you sell?” she exclaimed as if there was no other option than to sell the ranch that had been in our family for generations. “Losing a year of my life to Lonestar Junction? Sounds tragic."

I smiled, “I’ll miss you. Will you please come visit in a few months once I've settled in?”

“Sure, sis. I love you.” She stood up and gave me a hug.

As we broke away, she reached over and swiftly opened my bedside table, reaching her hand inside to retrieve the pink vibrator I kept there before I could realize what was happening.

“Hey! That’s an invasion of privacy!” I protested as I attempted to slam it shut, but she was too quick.

“Since you’re going to be in the middle of nowhere with no men around, at least take this with you. It’s the only cock you’ll be seeing for a while.” She teased, smiling, as she tossed the vibrator my way. "Well, other than the chickens I'm sure you'll be cleaning up after."

I rolled my eyes, though Stevie was right, I could probably use this during the lonely nights I was sure to endure on Ashwood Ranch. I slipped the pink toy into the side pocket of my suitcase and zipped it shut.

******

Two hours later…

“Let me make sure I heard you right…” Patrick spoke, his brows furrowed in concern. “You’re quitting your well-paying job as CFO for a company you love, leaving your older sister, who has been your best friend since the day you were born, and moving to the middle of Texas to live and work on a ranch for the next twelve months because your grandfather wrote that you must do that in order to inherit his property and then sell it?”

I sighed, feeling the weight of my decision as I picked up another mozzarella stick from the basket the server had dropped off ten minutes earlier. Nervous eating had become my coping mechanism of the moment and even though I was full, keeping my mind and hands busy helped.

“Something like that,” I responded, trying to keep my tone even.

He reached for a mozzarella stick for himself, chewing thoughtfully as he assessed me.

“I’m not going to lie; this is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard. You’ve worked so hard for your career babe, and you just finally made it to where you wanted to be. Why do you want to throw that all away?”

“I wouldn’t consider what I’m doing throwing it away,” I countered, feeling defensive. “My CEO said that they can’t hold my position for me, understandably; however, he agreed they’d evaluate when I’m back in a year if they have another position at the company to place me within.”

Patrick snorted. “It’ll be some low-level analyst role, I’m sure. It’ll be like you’re starting all over but at 30 years old.”

I felt irritation bubbling up inside me. I didn’t appreciate Patrick putting doubts in my head, especially a decision I'd agonized over and felt I was making with well intentions.

“Titles aren’t everything,” I shot back, my tone short.

He seemed to catch on and reached across the table for my hand. “Ok, babe. If this is what you want to do, I will support you.”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I had to say next. Apparently, Patrick hadn't realized this was a breakup and I wasn't looking for his support.

“Well, about that…”

He dropped my hand, his expression shifting to one of confusion. “Wait, you're not breaking up with me, are you? Because before you say the words, it’s just a year, Jovie. We can make this work long-distance.”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of my decision. “Lonestar Junction is over three hours away from Houston, and there are no airports in the city. You can’t exactly fly down to visit on the weekends.”

“I know that” he ran a hand through his hair, looking flustered, “but we can make the drive and try to visit each other, every other weekend or monthly, maybe?”

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