With a silent nod and a quiet goodbye, Marshall ended the call, his mouth etched into a frown. Running a hand through his thick, wavy hair, he placed his hat back on. There was nothing to do but wait to hear more about the new hire.
Jumping up from his desk abruptly, he searched for something to occupy himself. He needed to move. Sitting still had never been his strong suit and all the nervous energy created by the call with his grandfather needed to be expended. The fence posts came to mind and Marshall decided to saddle up and join the men working in the fields while the weather was pleasant.
Spring in Alberta could vary from warm and breezy to hailstorms or even blizzard-like conditions. Since they were enjoying a sunny streak and the ground was showing signs of warming, Marshall had sent a crew to repair the fence on the eastern slope. The odd frequency of missing or damaged fence posts lately was another a baffling mystery.
Marshall chalked it up to normal ranch repairs, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work. They were lucky they hadn’t had any lost or injured animals because of his vigilant staff. He walked past the horse stalls, considering which horse most needed to be exercised, and of course, Vinny nuzzled him as Marshall strolled past. When Marshall attempted to ignore the horse, Vinnytrotted over to the other end of his stall and reached out his tongue to kiss him.
Disgusting.
Marshall was not a man for PDAs, especially from a needy horse.
Sighing, he took pity on the horse and opened the door to his pen, deciding to take him out. Vinny needed to learn some self-restraint. But not today. Marshall saddled up the horse, patting him on the neck as the animal tried to reach around and kiss him again. It embarrassed him to admit that this was the most action he had gotten in years. His animals were a source of solace and healing.
When he left the city, a life reset had been in order. He stuck out like a sore thumb at first, a pretty boy, soft after his recovery from a football injury. It had been common for him to be surrounded by a bevy of ladies, everyone wanting a piece of the star quarterback on his university team. He may not have had brains, but he had looks, brawn, and an insatiable appetite for pleasure. Food, drinks, sex, and beautiful women were his motivators, and he gorged himself for years.
Marshall scrunched his face in distaste. All that time spent chasing heady pleasures in the wrong places had left him crushed when it had all been taken away so suddenly. He had such a promising future on the team, had even been recommended to some scouts for the CFL, but with one slip on the field, everything changed. What he thought was a minor injury—just a few days off—ended his season. Recovery and rehabilitation meant losing another year of training. None of his fair-weather beauties sat by his side when he was diagnosed with a torn ligament in his knee and needed extensive time to recover from surgery. Once it was official that he couldn’t return to the sport that had defined him for a decade, his heart was crushed,and his arms were empty. The lovers wanted the star athlete, not the washed-up loser who could barely walk.
He missed an entire semester of university for the surgery, and though his family had encouraged him to pursue other interests or academic objectives, he found there were none. His results from online learning were abysmal. The reality was, he sucked at school. Always had. He was a shitty student, a slow reader, and barely squeaked by with a C average.
Unlike his brother, Roger, who could ace a test with barely any study, Marshall couldn’t focus, had trouble listening to teachers, or even sitting still. His parents had supported him through various intervention programs as a child, which helped him improve, but it never erased the reality that Marshall wasn’t an academic guy. He was embarrassed at how long it took him to learn new things, even with the best tutors money could buy.
After moping around for a year and regaining enough strength to function normally, Marshall made a decision. When his grandfather grumbled about losing the ranch foreman because the man was retiring after years of dedicated work on the ranch, Marshall began to wonder.
His family had unlimited resources, but no amount of money could help him pass a test or even graduate. And that was if he had the desire to put himself through that. After mulling it over for a few days, Marshall opened his closet, put on his jeans, plaid shirt, and boots, and walked over to his grandparents’ house for a job interview.
Clarence King was shocked but open to the idea. He went over the scope of the responsibility and the expectations that would be placed on him should he take the job. He would have to be trained and learn from the staff already working there. Marshall gave a solemn nod and prepared to be lovingly dismissed.
Even though Marshall’s grandfather owned the ranch, it wasn’t a position that he would permit any idiot to take over, regardless of family connections. It was a grueling job, an everyday, sunrise-to-sunset kind of job. Given his seriousness and enthusiasm for the position, Clarence agreed to let him train under the guidance of his long-time foreman and see how it went.
For years, things had gone smoothly. Marshall enjoyed the work, learned at his own pace, and relied on an amazing staff to support the work happening at the ranch. His cousin, Lachlan, had even joined him after a while. City life hadn’t agreed with him either. His cousin had gotten in some trouble with the law that resulted in a stern warning and a sudden need for a fresh start.
Lachlan’s father, Jarrett King, sent him to work with Marshall, and they had quickly become friends. As long as Lachlan stayed out of trouble—he could be easy to set off by a hot temper when drinking—they worked together side by side quite harmoniously. Both considered themselves the black sheep of their families when compared to their perfect, high-achieving siblings. Marshall never resented Roger for his success, since he believed that Rosebud Ranch was where he was meant to be. His path, though riddled with failures and non-starts, had led him to his destiny. Every day was hectic and challenging. Marshall never felt too stupid to be there, as he had in university. It was where he was meant to be.
If only he could figure out what had changed, why the concentration of fuck-ups was so high lately, he could get back to the routine he treasured. Their accountant Agnes’s hasty departure sure hadn’t helped things. Marshall was certain that anyone his grandfather sent would be qualified and ready to work until the mystery had been solved. Then Marshall could get back to his normal, comfortable routine.
His comforting, predictable routine.
CHAPTER 4
Gripping the steering wheel of her car, the reality of her new situation finally dawned on Colette.
She did it.
Survived a stressful interview with Clarence King.
She had been hired for the new position with barely a glance at her qualifications. Colette believed she had Simone to thank for that.
Packing up her life, or whatever could fit in her small hatchback, she left the city.
After a relatively quick drive, she relocated to her new temporary home in the country.
Releasing a slow breath as she took in the new landscape, awareness prickled at the back of her neck. A nervous sensation fluttered in her chest, her body’s way of manifesting her fear mingled with excitement. She was on the precipice of a new adventure. Only positive thoughts would help her now. Even if she was completely out of her depth.
Colette assessed her new surroundings and fought the urge to bolt building within her chest. She could just start the car and turn around. Flee the unfamiliar.
Go back to the city where she belonged.
With a shake of her head, she stepped out of the hatchback.
