Page 1 of The Rancher's Code

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DYLAN

I’d never beento Montana before.

But I’d read about it in books, seen it on TV and in movies. I knew to expect wide, open plains and a beautiful vast sky, the sort of thing that’s so perfect it had to be photoshopped.

Still, I’d had no idea how it was going to make me feel until I stepped foot onto Stratton Ranch.

The place was massive, boundless fields surrounded by endless forest. Even the air was perfectly crisp, with hints of burning wood floating in the breeze every so often. More than anything, I loved how it smelled and wondered if I’d be able to purchase a candle with a scent like that once I was back home?—

Wait.

Did they make Montana scented candles in the city?

Were people in the city evencuriousabout what Montana smelled like?

“Welcome to Paradise Valley!” A young woman’s bright voice suddenly shook me out of my thoughts.

The car I’d been riding in came to a halt a few inches away from her and the driver offered me a polite nod. I stepped outof the car to greet my new client, my mind running through her profile as I sized her up:

Amber Stratton.

Engaged to Doug Thornton.

Beautiful.

Rich as hell.

She also seemed nice enough, judging from the smile that was still on her face as I walked up to her.

“Did you find the place okay?” she asked. “I sent the driver to the airport an hour ago?—”

“Oh, it wasn’t his fault. I brought like four suitcases—” I stopped, mid-sentence, confusion dawning on me. “Uh, wait. Did the driver just… drive off? With all of my stuff?”

I helplessly stared down the road as I watched the car take a slight turn.

Amber laughed; even her laugh sounded expensive. “No, silly. He’s taking your stuff to one of the guest houses on the ranch.”

“One of the guest houses? There’s multiple?”

“Mr. Reid, it’s 400,000 acres,” she replied. “And the Strattons are nothing if not fantastic hosts. What else are we supposed to do with all this land? The cows and horses have enough, don’t you think?”

She laughed again and I laughed along with her, even though I couldn’t imagine what 400,000 acres looked like.

Well, I guess it looks like this?

“Here, come with me.” Amber linked my arm in hers. “I want to show you something.”

“Uh…”

It was all I could manage to say as we walked into yet another one of the guest houses. It was too small for anyone rich to live in full-time, but with plenty of space to make someone feel very comfortable.

Except it was obvious that no one lived here at all because the entire house had been dedicated to Amber’s wedding planning. There were dozens of wedding dresses in the living room alone, with various jewelry options strewn along the couch, the table, and the chairs.

There were also several women running to and fro, some with fabric in their hands, others with stacks of documents—a few of them on the phone in different languages. I saw one woman’s hand shaking as she downed a cup of coffee, probably already at her caffeine limit for the day.

But it was only 9AM.

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