“Oh yes, thank you.” Allie stretches out her arms taking in an over exaggerated gulp of air.
“Are you sure you’re going to be able to get out of the car?” Leo says, flashingme a smile.
I draw in a long breath and nod my head. “I can do this.”
Leo slides out while I continue to mutterI can do thisto myself.
He shakes hands with Topper. “Leo McMann.”
Topper then reaches in to help me out. “Ma’am?”
“I’m all set, thanks,” I pretend to answer my phone. “Be right out.” I can only imagine how many times I’m going to have to use a fake phone call to get out of the social interactions I’m about to have.
“Oh, that’s Roxanne Denning,” Allie says to Topper. “She’s the writer.”
“Wonderful,” Topper says. “Looking forward to having y’all at the ranch this summer.”
Allie nudges Leo. “Did you hear that?Y’all.I love it.”
“It’s adorable,” Leo says. “Come on, Rox, there’s no reception out here anyway.”
Reluctantly, I get out of the car. Suddenly, my breath feels too loud in the silence. There’s no city hum, no honking taxis, no voices bleeding through paper-thin apartment walls. Just the eerie, suffocating quiet of the wilderness.
I need to pop another melatonin and head straight to my room.
Topper brings a luggage cart over to collect our bags and ushers us into the lodge lobby where more ranch staff waits to greet us.
Outside, the lodge looks rugged and weathered, but inside it opens like a cathedral to rustic luxury. Vaulted ceilings, warm wood beams, and soft golden light spilling across leather armchairs and stone fireplaces. Cedar and cinnamon mingle in the air. It feels so cozy, I’m almost tempted to let my guard down.
Almost.
“Roxanne?” Leo calls. “Want to come meet some of the staff?”
I pretend I don’t hear him as I wander out onto the terrace. I’m not quite ready to meet everyone. In New York, I don’t have to smile all the time, I don’t have to shake hands and pretend I’m interested. New York is a city full of people who want to keep their head down and not engage as they move through their day.
Coloradans are the opposite. They’re friendly, welcoming, they want toget to know you. This summer will be about writing a breakout piece that’ll put me back in World Explorer’s good graces and nothing more. Soon Allie, Leo, Rusty, and Topper join me on the terrace.
I know I’m supposed to immerse myself in the daily activities of the ranch, but I silently pray that none of those activities include going out into the woods.
“I don’t even have words for how beautiful this is,” Allie says, shoving her hands in the pockets of her baby blue jumpsuit.
“We’re excited to have y’all, ma’am,” Topper nods. “We can’t wait to show you how special Firebird Ranch is.”
“Whoa, who is that?” Allie gasps.
We all turn in unison to see a man riding in through a wooden fence from the pasture. He stops, swings a muscular leg over his horse and steps onto the ground. It’s almost as if the sun starts to follow only him.
This man looks like he was forged, not born. He’s testosterone in its purest form. His sandy brown hair curls up from under his worn baseball cap and his dark jeans hug an ass that resembles Captain America’s. He’s cut in a way that suggests he’s not some gym rat who grunts when he throws down his weights, but a man sculpted and muscular from chopping wood and slinging bales of hay.
“Yes,” Leo insists. “Whoisthat?”
Topper grins. “Oh, that’s Duke Faraday.”
“And who is he?” Allie asks.
“Nobody, he justowns the ranch.”
“Oh my!” Allie squeals. “The owner? Can we meet him?”
