I had to earn this job, despite working for my parents’ company. They were harder on me than other applicants. But I’m great at what I do, and I can’t wait to dig into this new property.
I spent the last month since we acquired the charming cabin researching the area. I’ve done so many virtual walkthroughs of this cabin I feel like I’ve been here before as I walk in the door. It’s dark and dusty inside, filled with spiderwebs. But all I see is potential.
As soon as I make it over the threshold, a warm feeling envelops me. Like heat radiating off of a crackling fire on a winter’s day.
I pull out my notebook to jot down all of the ideas running amok in my head. Rust orange couch, leather chair, restore the hardwood floors, cowhide rug, bright yellow curtains.
The rooms are in great condition for how old the cabin is, and how long it’s gone unused. From what I could tell, it used to be part of the ranch surrounding us. The owners don’t use the cabin, and are having some hard times so they sold it to MacPherson Enterprises for a pretty penny, advertising it as a perfect vacation rental property.
It came with a couple of acres, more than our other properties, and no surrounding buildings to obstruct the breathtaking view. Also included was the promise the cattle belonging to the ranch wouldn’t come close enough to agitate guests, which is very helpful for me.
A smile breaks out across my face as I look around the living room area, complete with a fireplace, of course.
I’ve made it.
My first Wyoming property. In a proper vacation town. It’s all mine. For the summer, that is. I have four months to fix this place up and have it ready for fall visitors. It would have been ideal to do this part in the winter to be ready for summer vacationers, but I’ve heard the winters here are brutal. I’m glad we started now. The most magical time of year in the mountains.
Out of nowhere, a warm breeze glides across my arms. It wraps around me, smelling like honeysuckle and making me feel at home. In my mind’s eye, a crackling fire burns in the fireplace, splatters of orange, red and yellow trees on the peaks outside of the window. A fresh cup of tea warms my hands, the smell of mint filling my senses. A broad chest at my back, firm arms pulling me close.
Then, the breeze is gone and it all melts away.
Startled, I look around the cabin only to see all of the doors and windows are firmly shut. There’s definitely not any air conditioning installed, and the heating shouldn’t be on yet. It felt like… almost like I’m supposed to be here. I can’t explain it. I must be exhausted or something.
Shrugging it off, I take another step, itching to check the rest of the place out. There’s a spring in my step as I adjust my high waisted jean shorts and skip towards the porch. Stopping short of the front door, I notice an open window and a rich campfire smell wafting in.
As I take in the view, a small dirt cloud appears in the distance where the road keeps going past the cabin. It’s a beautiful day outside. Not a cloud in the sky, golden grass blowing in the wind, red and orange leaves falling off the trees.
Hang on. Why are the leaves already changing?
That doesn’t make sense, it’s spring. I step up to the window to take a closer look. Sure enough, it looks like the middle of fall outside.
Movement catches my eye towards the back of the sprawling field. I squint my eyes to look closer. It’s a deer. A buck with three antler points on one side and two on the other. He saunters closer to the yard. I’ve seen a lot of deer living in Idaho, but this one is different somehow.
Afraid to scare the deer away, I tiptoe to the front door and step out onto the wraparound porch. My boots barely make any noise as I creep over to the side of the house where the deer stood. But when I get there, he’s gone. No sign of a deer at all.
I let out a disappointed sigh, sad I didn’t pull my phone out and take a photo to send to my best friend Hazel. It looks different than it did from the window. A lot different. The trees and grass are green, not shades of yellow, orange, and red.
It looks like spring again.
I shake my head, trying to get a hold of myself. I’m clearly imagining things. That, or the windows have some sort of tint on them. But, I’ll have to check that out later. Because now, a big dirt cloud on the road is heading my way.
If I remember my maps correctly, that’s the road to the main ranch buildings. They’re far enough I can just barely make them out. The dust cloud gets closer and closer until I can just make out the silhouette of a horse.
I run a hand through my hair. Someone from the ranch must be coming down to welcome me. The owner knows I’m arriving today, an older man named Walter. I never got a last name, just Walter. We spoke on the phone a few times, and he was so kind to me, answering all of my questions about the property and telling stories of his ranch in the old days.
The closer the horse gallops, the less sure I am that it’s Walter in the saddle. Onyx hair falls out from under a cowboy hat, fading into a scruffy beard. The dark ink of a tattoo sleeve covers his left arm, poking out of his black t-shirt.
Another tell-tale sign this isn’t Walter: he looks pissed off.
I pump up my smile a bit as the horse stops a few feet away from the porch and its rider dismounts.
“Hi,” I wave as the man approaches. Honey always catches more flies than vinegar, as my Aunt Millie always says. I’ll just kill him with kindness. There’s no response beyond a gruff grunt as he approaches. His olive skin is darker from days out in the sun, hat covered in a thin layer of dust. He’s wearing a set of black leather chaps that kickstart my heart rate a little bit. Huh. I guess I’m a chaps girl now.
Brown eyes pierce mine with a fire behind them.
He’s really mad. And also extremely attractive, but that’s beside the point.
“You’re trespassing,” he growls, his no-nonsense tone startling me. A strong cedar scent envelops me and draws me a little closer.
