“That would be Citra,” Paul said.
Sabrina leaned between the seats. “You have horses, Cal?”
I nodded. “It’s a ranch, so…”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe not everyone uses horses. I saw a show once where a guy used a drone to survey his land and corral sheep.”
“A drone?” Paul asked.
“Yeah. It even barked to help move the sheep.”
I smirked. “I saw the same show. No one uses drones. That was just for TV.”
“Some people use ATVs. I have one on my ranch.” She sat back and crossed her arms. “It was a fair question.”
She was annoyed with me. Good, I could live with that. Annoyed I could handle. Nice made me a weak-kneed jackass.
“You are so prickly,” she mumbled.
Sabrina
We fell into silence. Exhausted, I closed my eyes, rested my head against the window, and took a catnap. Only hours earlier, I’d been in my bed in Texas when Cal had barged in.
I woke when the SUV slowed and made a left turn. I blinked several times to clear the fuzz from my head. He’d turned onto a private road and crossed under a large ranch arch made from insanely large timbers. A sign declaring The Rolling Thunder Ranch swung softly in the breeze from the cross timber. I sat up and looked out the window. Miles and miles of deep-green land spread out around us. To the right was the backdrop of blue-and-brown mountains shaded by white, puffy cotton-ball clouds in a baby-blue sky.
I’d been to Wyoming several times because my friends Jace, Meredith, Cricket, Cori, and Fort lived out here. I never got tired of the view. And this one looked strikingly familiar.
“How far away do you live from Jace?” I asked.
I knew they’d been friends before college and were both from Wyoming. I knew he’d been to boarding school, though I’d thought it was only his high school years so he could get into an Ivy League college. Which he did. And then turned down to go to a state school in Texas.
But ranches were vast and isolating. When I was at Jace’s, I’d never thought about who was out there beyond the fences because I knew they rarely ran into people unless they went into town.
“He’s the next town over, a little over an hour.”
“How far away from Wolf’s Creek are you?” Wolf’s Creek was where Cori and Fort lived. And Shane and Ellie. Wolf’s Creek was my favorite.
“This is Wolf’s Creek,” he said as we crept along the road.
I sat upright. “Shut up—it is not!” How many times had I been out here and never once run into him or heard his name or any hint of him? Millions, that was how many. Millions.
“It is.”
“You know Fort Besingame?”
Cal shook his head. “I haven’t been back here in years.”
“How could you not come home to this? It’s stunning. Already, I feel a thousand times lighter, like I can handle anything. Looking at this view is like doing deep meditation. It’s good for the soul.” One more opportunity our paths had run close together but never crossed.
The ranch itself was two stories and sprawling with a wraparound porch. There were three barns and lots of corrals. Cattle grazed in a field far off. The house had dark timber trim and accents, contrasting with a whitewashed house that was all big windows and sunshine.
He pulled up to the side of the house near a garage and sighed heavily, not moving. “It is spectacular, isn’t it?” He seemed to be soaking it in.
“And I thought I had something special in Texas.” I got out, stretching like a cat after a nap in the sun.
He got out beside me, and I bumped into him as I lifted my hands high over my head. I froze and gave him a side-eye as I felt the rush of heat I always got when I touched Cal. Then I did a quick few sidesteps to move away, arms still in the air to finish my stretch. Cal chuckled.
Footsteps on the porch drew my attention. I was fixing my shirt, which was only partially tucked in, when I looked up and saw Morgan, the coworker who had started this whole nonsense.