Page 20 of The Mountain Echoes
“Do you know that Longhorn Ranch has been in our family for five generations?” she tells me conversationally.
I nod. I did know that. I think everyone in Wildflower Canyon does.
“My great-great-grandfather settled this land in the late 1800s—came up from New Mexico with nothing but a few head of cattle and a prayer.” The swing moves softly, as do her feet. “Every Delgado after him worked this ranch through droughts, the Depression, recessions, fires…all of it. It’s more than just land to me. It’s blood. It’s my legacy.”
Legacy. Earl had used the same word minutes ago.
She tilts her head, leans it against a thick rope of the swing as if she’s somewhere else. “Mama hated the ranch.Hated everything about it. Most days, she didn’t like Papa much.”
I say nothing and wait for her to make her point.
“Didn’t like me either.” The corners of her mouth dip almost imperceptibly. “She married him because,oops,she got knocked up. Never forgave me for that.”
I want to ask her why she’s telling me all this. She doesn’t even know me.
“Celine was her golden child. Even Papa’s.” She turns, locks her eyes with mine. “If he left her everything, then he has done what I anticipated. When people behave as you expect them to—it doesn’t cause cracks.”
We remain in silence for a moment as the wind tugs at the loose tendrils of her hair, the mountains stretched out behind her like an old promise.
“You’re not what Iexpected,” I blurt out because she isn’t.
Her brow lifts. “Let me guess—Celine told you I ran off to LA to become a yoga instructor-slash-lifestyle influencer who burned through a trust fund and a few boyfriends?”
“What the fuck is a yoga instructor-slash-lifestyle influencer?”
“Fuck if I know,” she replies cheerfully.
She’s about to say buzz off to me, so I say my piece, get it out in the open. “Look. My offer is real. And fair. I’ll take care of this place.”
The small amount of brightness in her eyes fades into retreat. “Right now, all I want to take care of is grieving my father.”
“Fair,” I agree.
“You have a good rest of your evening, Maverick.” She walks past me into the house from the back door.
What I told her is true.
She’s not what I thought she’d be like.
I came here thinking she’d be a spoiled, runaway daughter.
What we’ve got here is a woman who seems to have depth. Added to that, she’s got dignity and poise.
And after speaking with her, I am certain, there’s fire under the quiet.
She won’t be cold in bed.
She’ll be a live wire.
CHAPTER 5
aria
Iwake up early.
Part of it is that I’m an early riser, which is needed for my job in Napa, but with the time zone difference, I should be getting a couple of extra hours of sleep, which I didn’t because a man with blue eyes and a cynical attitude kept me tossing and turning all freaking night long.
I step out of my room and feel what I always did here—the opulence of it and my good fortune that I grew up here.
