Page 14 of A Mile of Ocean

Savannah settled into an armchair, her eyes drawn to the journal Trent had placed on the side table. “What’s in the journal?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea. It belonged to Granddad. Duchess said I should read it to learn more about my grandfather losing his own son, my dad. Maybe it’ll help make sense of everything. I don’t know. My brain is mush.”

She opened the book, flipping through a few pages. “How fascinating. And she gave it to you tonight, of all nights.”

“That pretty much was my reaction. I haven’t even processed what happened today, let alone go back to the time I lost my parents.”

They fell into a companionable silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. Despite the heavy conversation and tragic circumstances, Savannah felt a sense of comfort settle over her about being here, in this moment, with Trent.

“I’ll get us that brandy I promised,” Trent said, moving over to cabinet with several different kinds of liquor.

He poured two glasses of brandy, handing one to Savannah, who accepted it with a grateful smile. They clinked their glasses together silently, each lost in their own thoughts for a moment.

She sipped the warm liquid, feeling it spread a gentle heat through her limbs. “Will it fall to you to run the ranch alone?” she asked quietly, her eyes on Trent.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Make no mistake, my grandmother is still in charge. She and my grandfather built this place from the ground up. Every piece of wood, every nail—it’s all them. Everything you see, every cow, every horse, they handpicked to be here. I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

Savannah nodded, feeling the weightiness of his words. “An inspired legacy.”

Trent took a deep breath, his gaze distant. “It is. And it’s a lot to live up to. But when my time comes to take over, I’ll do my best. Same with Tate. Although she isn’t as excited about the prospect, she is as capable as I am of running this place.”

“Would the rest of the employees be as willing to work for a woman as they were your grandfather?”

“Every one of them respects Duchess Callum. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be here for long.”

“I’m surprised at that.”

Trent cracked another grin. “Granddad wouldn’t have put up with anyone dissing the Duchess.”

“Why do they call her that? I can’t tell if it’s a compliment or a dig.”

“Back in Wyoming, she was the only daughter of a rancher that doted on her. The locals thought she was spoiled rotten and took to calling her Duchess. The nickname stuck throughout.Granddad told me that when I was six years old. I never forgot it.”

“So it is kind of a dig in a way?”

“Yeah. I suppose it is. Although I never met my grandmother’s side of the family. All she said about them was that they came from pioneer stock and struck gold in 1867. Come to think of it, I never actually met my granddad’s side of the family either.”

Savannah sat back in the chair. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I just had lunch with him and your grandmother today. I only knew him briefly—less than six months—but he seemed approachable. He wanted my students to learn as much about horses as possible. Tell me something about him I might not know.”

Trent’s face softened, a gentle light coming into his eyes. “Well, let’s see, he once rode a wild Mustang bareback just to prove a point. That horse was a remarkable sight, all muscle and fire. Granddad said it was about trust, about respect. He did it, and that horse never gave him one bit of trouble after that.”

Savannah laughed softly. “I can almost picture it. He seemed like the type who wouldn’t back down from a challenge.”

“Oh, he was a character. But he was kind too. He had a way with people and animals. He’d slowed down some these past few months. When it began to happen, some days I still expected to see him out there, checking on the cattle or mending a fence all by himself. I remember one time, during a bad storm, he went out to rescue a calf and returned with a wild pony that had gotten separated from its mother. That happened when I was twelve.”

They sat silently for a while, the fire crackling and the shadows dancing around the room. Savannah felt a strange sense of calm settle over her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Something about being here, in this house with Trent, felt right.

After a while, she stood up, smoothing down her skirt. “I should go. It’s late, and you need your sleep.”

Trent walked her to her car, his hand lingering on the door handle. “Thanks for dropping by, Savannah. It meant a lot.”

She smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest. She patted his jawline with her hand. “Anytime, Trent. Take care. Don’t worry about talking to the class.”

“No, I want to do it for him. The funeral will likely be on Monday or Tuesday. I could make time on Wednesday if that’s okay with you.”

“It’s a date.”

He ran his fingers gently down her cheek. “Not even close. For a first date, we’ll do something special, something memorable, like having dinner under the stars.”

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