Page 41 of Wylder Ranch
I nod. “I do. Along with the rest of the staff responsible for keeping the wheels turning.”
“How many people are here?”
“Close to one hundred are based in the yard.” I point over to the main barn, with the big clock on the roof and the weathervane on top rocking ever so slightly from the light wind. “In there are the offices where I’m based, along with Burlington’s head of operations and his senior staff. They’re responsible for everything from running the main house—Burlington Hall—along with Valentine Nook—repairs. . . things like that.”
Even though I’m here every day, I know how impressive it is to anyone seeing it for the first time, and it’s purposeful. But one look at Haven’s face, and my chest swells.
“But what do you doexactly?”
“We buy land. Lando looks after everything around the estate, while I lead everything abroad. Our aim is to focus on sustainability. All our developments are built with the natural environment in mind.”
She steps back, and her arms cross over her chest. “Is that what you’d have done with Wylder Ranch? Develop it?”
Her chin hardens and juts, and her expression turns stony. She’s seeing me as a developer, the type that has Aspen covered in construction boards while the next mega cabin is built for another billionaire. I get why she’s pissed off, but I shake my head.
“No. I saw it was for sale, and I knew something wasn’t right. I remember how hard you worked to keep it. I remember that it was your parents’ place.” I shrug and keep my tone as casual as possible. “I figured if I bought it, it would stop developers from snapping it up and slappinghalf a dozen hotels on it.”
“One hundred million to do nothing with it?”
I’m holding her gaze when I respond, “Best hundred million I’d have ever spent.”
Her mouth rolls, and she stays silent. I can’t tell if she believes me, and I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to prove it to her. But Hendricks’s words echo around me once more.
Haven needs support, not me trying to pick up where we left off. Even if we do have a baby now and I have to figure out how we can stay together.
Not wanting to dwell on the suspicious glare still aimed my way, I guide us through the yard, greeting everyone we pass until we reach the huge archway that leads down to the cow barn. I almost turn around when I spot who’s at the end leaning over one of the stalls, but then decide better of it.
“Hello—” I call out.
Max and Miles turn at the sound of my voice. Max sprints toward us, grinding to a halt a couple of meters out when he realizes Haven isn’t someone he knows. And if I thought Haven’s stare was suspicious, it’s nothing compared to the way Max is eyeing her.
“Max, this is my friend, Haven,” I say without thinking, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
Miles does, though, stopping in front of us with a raised eyebrow directed straight at me, mouthing, “Friends?”
I ignore him.Dickhead.
“Haven, this is Max, my nephew.”
Haven crouches so she’s eye level with him. “Hey Max, it’s good to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Max is uncharacteristically quiet as his bright blue eyes continue their assessment before sliding over to me and the bundle I’m carrying. The thousands of expressions this child is capable of could keep me amused all day long, none more so than when his brows shoot up because he’s just figured something out.
“Is that my cousin?”
Haven’s head flicks to mine before turning back to Max. “Yeah, I guess she is. Her name is Everly. We thought she’d like to see the farm. I’m sure she’d love to play with you when she’s a bit older.”
Max’s nose wrinkles because he’s still firmly on the fence about whether he wants to play withher. His head tilts the way it always does when his brain is running with a million questions while he connects the dots.
“Are you the mum?”
Haven nods again. “Yeah, I’m Everly’s mom. Good job, buddy.”
“Did Uncle Alex put his?—”
Miles’s big hand cups around Max’s mouth in the nick of time. “Not right now, Maxy.”
Miles bends down and whispers in his ear. I can’t hear anything he’s saying, but I have no doubt it’s only causing mischief, especially when Max’s eyes widen and his mouth drops.
