Prologue
Sutton
“Why do you sound like you’re dying?” my best friend, Destiny, asks.
“Because I’m running to the mailbox in my cowboy boots.”
“First off, in your boots? Are you crazy? Second, is someone chasing you? You hate running.”
“I don’t hate it, I just don’t see the point in it. Besides, I have to get to the mailbox before Mama or Daddy.”
“Well, stop running so I can tell you the biggest news ever,” she practically squeals. “Wade Callahan is single again.”
“He’s always single again because he never stays with a girl longer than a week. Besides, I don’t care. I hate him, so it’s moot.”
“I really thought Kara Flein was going to stick, though.”
I knew she wouldn’t stick, because she needs way more attention than a ranching man can give her. I roll my eyes before I stop for a second to catch my breath.
It’s so hot. Why is it so hot?
The late afternoon sun beats down on my shoulders as I jog down the gravel driveway, kicking up little clouds of dust with each step. It’s hotter than usual for May, and sweat is causing my T-shirt to stick to my back, but I don’t care. The mailbox stands at the end of the long drive, its red flag lowered, a sign that the mail has already been delivered. My heart thuds in anticipation as I reach for the handle, hoping—praying—that today is the day.
“Switch me to video!” she exclaims. “I want to see if you got into vet school in Montana!”
“I missed my interview for them. A&M is a better school anyway, and they only required an essay. Besides, this isn’t vet school, Destiny. This is the acceptance to undergrad.”
“I thought you wanted to go to vet school.”
“That’s the goal. I have to do four years at A&M to get my bachelor’s degree in animal sciences. Then, I can apply to the veterinarian program.”
“The girl who hates school is going for eight years?” she teases. “Are you okay?”
“It’s always been my dream to be a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. I hated grade school and high school because they don’t teach us anything useful.”
“True. Are you at the mailbox yet?”
The creak of the mailbox door and Destiny’s words are almost drowned out by the rumble of an engine. I glance up just as an old, familiar pickup truck pulls up alongside me. My stomach tightens, and I’m immediately aware of how messy my ponytail is and how the heat has probably turned my face red. I’m dressed in a Hicks Creek volleyball tank top and an old pair of workout shorts with holes in them like I don’t own better clothes. I’ve been out on my mare, Dolly, all day. I know that I’m a mess and probably smell.
As Mama always tells me, “Would it hurt to look like you have a nice home somewhere?”
Please don’t be Wade. Please don’t be Wade.
I hear a low whistle and don’t even have to look up to know that my worst nightmare is happening right now. Wade Callahan leans out the driver’s side window, and his crooked grin is as infuriating as ever.
He’s probably been out working on the ranch all day, and he looks like he stepped out of an ad for when that beat-up old truck of his was in its prime.
He’s so insanely hot that it should be illegal.
“Oh my God, is that Wade?” Destiny gasps in my ear.
“Hey, Bishop,” he calls out, holding up a large envelope.
I despise that he refers to me by my last name. He knows it irritates me to no end.
I’m the only child of a rancher who wanted a son. I’ve always been more of a tomboy. Sometimes, I wonder if Wade even realizes I’m a girl.
Not that he’d notice me. I’m definitely not the type of girl he normally goes for. But that doesn’t matter anyway. If my daddy saw me talking to Wade right now, he’d tan my hide. Wade Callahan may be hotter than hell and smooth as silk, but he’s also public enemy number one in the Bishop household.
