“Duke, my friend, when this is all over and we win fifteen million, then I will gladly let you punch me in the face.”
firebird ranch
ROXANNE
Before my accident,any flight longer than two hours meant a five-star hotel, a drink, and a spa appointment. This time, Leo and Allie have to load me up with melatonin to get me to sleep on the flight. The only thing I am somewhat grateful for is the fact that I didn’t have more time to stew over the trip.
Once in the air, Leo holds my hand until I pass out and then gently nudges me awake as the plane begins to land. I keep my window shade pulled shut, not wanting to see the jagged peaks of Colorado taunting me on the way in.
Thankfully, we had the use of Priti’s private jet, which bounces as it lands at the Broomfield Airport. Those damn winds coming off the Rocky Mountains shake the plane, but I’m the only one who seems fazed. Once we disembark, my legs wobble, but they’re thankful to touch the ground.
The driver of the car we booked already has the door open for me and I hop in the back. It’s a two-hour drive to Firebird Ranch. The mountain towns we pass through on the way feel like they start and stop on the edge of a single mile. Soon, civilization is no longer visible from the rear window. As the road twists throughthe mountains, dark pines close in on either side like the jaws of a trap.
Relax. It’s just a road. Just trees. They’re not watching me.
The past isn’t waiting around the next bend, ready to swallow me whole. I’m trying to remain calm, and yet every mile taking us deeper into the forest feels like a step backward. A slow, inevitable undoing.
I lean my head on Allie’s shoulder in the back of the Tahoe and shut my eyes as the SUV rattles on the washed-out dirt road in front of us. I straighten and pull out my phone to distract me as our destination looms.
A working dude ranch in Colorado.
Priti is punishing me, that much is certain.
Thank goodness Leo and Allie are at my side. They laugh and chat during the entire ride as they coo over the scenery passing by the window. I’m still not ready for this all to be real. An invisible elephant presses down on my chest as the car passes through the ornate gated entrance of Firebird Ranch. I’m not sure whether the pressure is from returning to a state I left behind or the fact that we’re now at nine thousand feet above sea level.
“This is bananas!” Allie says, partially fogging the window from pressing her face to it. She then rolls her brown hair into a knot on her head. “Look at this place. Honestly. I’m dying to get out of this car and get started with this project. This is going to be the summer of our lives.”
“I need something to eat first,” Leo says, stuffing his ear pods back in his messenger bag. “Are you okay, Rox?”
My lips form a thin smile. “Fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Allie says.
The dust spewing from the back of the SUV dies down as we hit a paved road leading to a grand building resembling a castle made of river rock. My stomach tightens when we finally stop in front of a sign readingEmeraldLodge.
Voices calling from the lodge entrance pull my attention away from taking in the sprawling estate.
Two men step out of the lodge to greet us, both wearing actual ten-gallon hats like they’re auditioning for a country western band.
The first is younger—broad-shouldered, sun-kissed, and alarmingly attractive. His blond hair curls behind his ears, and when he gets closer, I catch a glimpse of his eyes: one green, one blue.
Behind him comes an older man with a silver beard and glacier-blue eyes that cut straight through to me. His hat looks like it’s seen a few rodeos, and he moves slower, but with authority.
“Welcome! Welcome!” the blond man says, opening our door.
“Thank you! OMG, this place is beautiful!” Allie says, almost bursting out of the car. “And you are?”
“Oh, uh, Wyatt Westin, but everyone calls me Topper, ma’am.”
Allie shakes his hand, almost pulling it out of its socket. “What’s your title here, Topper? Love the name. Leo, don’t you love that name?”
Leo rolls his eyes. “Lord, Allie, take a breath.”
Topper chuckles and tips his hat. “That’s okay, sir. We appreciate how friendly y’all are. Anyway, I’m the ranch manager, sort of a dude of all trades. My friend Rusty here is the general caretaker and co-owner.”
“Great to meet you, I’m Alison Whitlock. Production manager. Call me Allie.”
“Ma’am,” Topper bows slightly. “Nice to meet you. I’ll tend to your bags.”
