Sierra's quiet for a moment, just taking in the view. Then: "Did she say yes? His wife?"
"Immediately. They were married forty-eight years before she died. Cancer." I kick at a rock. "Frank was never the same after she passed. Started making plans to leave the ranch to us because he didn't want to be here without her."
"That's heartbreaking."
"That's love." The word feels strange in my mouth. I don't talk about love. Don't think about it much. "The real kind. Not the romantic movie version, but the kind that lasts through hard times and heartbreak."
"My parents had that," Sierra says softly. "Until my mother decided she preferred his money to his memory. She remarried six months after he died. To his former business partner."
I look at her sharply. "That's—"
"Awful? Yeah." She wraps her arms around herself. "My sisters were fine with it. Said Mom deserved to be happy. But I couldn't forgive how fast she moved on. How little she seemed to care that Dad was gone."
"Is that why they resent the inheritance? Because you didn't approve of her remarriage?"
"That's part of it. The bigger part is that Dad left me the bulk of his estate specifically because he knew they'd waste it. Mom and my sisters see money as something to spend on status and appearance. Dad wanted his money to build something. To matter." She glances at me. "He would have liked Frank, I think."
"Frank would have liked him too. Respected anyone who understood the value of building something that lasts." I turn back to the view. "That's what this place is. Frank's life's work. His legacy. And I'm responsible for it."
"We're responsible for it," Sierra corrects gently. "If we're partners."
Partners. The word should make me uncomfortable, but standing here with her, watching the sun sink lower and paint the ranch in shades of gold, it doesn't feel as threatening as it did this morning.
"There's one more thing you need to understand about this place," I say, changing the subject before I say something I'll regret. "The most important skill for ranching isn't fixing fences or managing cattle. It's riding."
"Horseback riding?"
"You can't check all this land on foot or even in a truck. Some sections are too rough, too remote. You need to be comfortableon horseback if you're going to really understand how this operation works." I look at her. "I could teach you. If you want."
She blinks, surprised. "Really?"
"Six a.m. tomorrow. Meet me at the stables. I'll get you started on the basics." I'm already second-guessing this offer, but something compels me forward. "Fair warning, it's harder than it looks. You'll be sore in places you didn't know existed."
"I'm already sore in places I didn't know existed," she points out. "What's a little more?"
"That's the spirit." I almost smile. Almost. "Come on. We should head back before it gets dark."
The drive back to the main compound is quieter, but it's a different kind of quiet than before. Less hostile. Less tense. Sierra's actually growing on me, which is a problem I don't know how to solve.
She's nothing like I expected. Should be soft and useless and easy to dismiss. Instead, she's stubborn and determined and asks questions that make me think. Challenges me in ways that are both infuriating and if I'm being honest refreshing.
Most people don't challenge me. The guys know better, and everyone else in town either respects me or avoids me. But Sierra doesn't seem to care that I'm grumpy or defensive. She just pushes back and keeps showing up.
It's been a long time since anyone made me work for their respect instead of just accepting my authority.
"Thank you," she says as I park the truck near the guest house. "For today. For showing me all this. I know it wasn't easy."
"You kept up. Again." I turn off the engine. "That counts for something."
"High praise from Wade Turner." There's a teasing note in her voice.
"Don't let it go to your head, Vaughn. You've still got a lot to prove."
"I know." She opens the door but pauses before getting out. "Six a.m. tomorrow. I'll be there."
"Wear long pants and closed-toe shoes. Boots if you have them."
"I have boots." She grins. "They're covered in cow manure now, but I have them."
