She did know. I cleared my throat. “Uh, yes. That’s me.”
“I never thought he’d be the type to go for a man,” she replied, but there was no judgement in her voice, just surprise. “Especially a city boy.” She took a step closer, patting me on the shoulder. “I hope you know how lucky you are, Mr. Valenti. Nick is a hard-workin’ man. He’s been trying to save that ranch for years on nothin’ but a hope and a prayer.” Her smile widened as she plucked at my suit. “But considering this suit cost more than my truck, I’m figurin’ you’re the reason the Wesley’s are back on their feet now and that ranch isn’t in foreclosure.”
I was starting to think this woman was psychic. Or obnoxiously observant. She might even give my father a run for his money. And that, more than anything, made me realize that if I was going to do well in Hell Creek, I needed her on my side.
“Yes ma’am,” I nodded.
“Well, be kind to one another. I know a marriage of convenience when I see one.” She patted my shoulder again, her kind eyes boring into mine. “But that doesn’t mean love can’t grow in its place if you just take the time to nurture it.” Another smile. “It was good to meet you, Mr. Valenti.”
“Call me Dante,” I replied. “And good to meet you too, Evelyn.”
She gave me a small wave, and I watched her walk away, her words settling over me like the Montana sky that seemed to consume everything in this town.
Love. The concept felt foreign, almost laughable. I’d married Nick Wesley for business, for the ranch, for my father’s expansion plans. Nick was beautiful and strong, yes. But love had nothing to do with it.
And yet, as I loaded my purchases into the SUV, I couldn’t shake the image of Nick’s face that first morning. The way he’d looked at me with such raw hatred, but also something else. Something that made my pulse quicken. There was possibility there, a seed of what could be.
I drove back to the ranch, the black hat still on my head. It felt strange, like wearing someone else’s skin. But when I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, I had to admit Evelyn was right. I looked the part.
The tiny house came into view, and I spotted Nick near the barn, working on something I couldn’t quite make out from this distance. My stomach did an odd flip, and I told myself it was just nerves about showing him my new look. Nothing more.
I parked and grabbed my bags, the new boots feeling heavy in my hands. Nick looked up at the sound of the car door, and I saw him freeze mid-motion when he saw me.
I walked toward him, acutely aware of every step, every movement. His eyes tracked me, widening slightly as he took in the hat, the bags, the whole package.
“What the hell are you wearing?” he asked when I got close enough.
I grinned, tipping the hat slightly. “When in Rome, right? Or in this case, when in Hell Creek.” I held up the bags. “Got myself a proper rancher wardrobe. Thought I should look the part.”
He stared at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then he turned back to whatever he’d been working on. A broken fence post, I realized.
“You look ridiculous,” he muttered.
But I’d seen it. Just for a second, before he’d looked away. Interest. Maybe even a hint of a smile.
“I met someone in town,” I said, setting the bags down on a nearby hay bale. “Evelyn. Works at the Nelson Ranch. She helped me pick everything out.”
Nick’s hands stilled on the fence post. “Evelyn knows about us?”
“She seemed to. Said we should come visit the Nelsons sometime.” I paused, watching his reaction. “She also said something interesting. About marriages of convenience and how love can grow if you nurture it.”
“Evelyn’s a good woman. But she needs to mind her own damn business,” Nick said, but there was no real anger in it.
I moved closer, drawn by something I couldn’t name. “Does it bother you? That people know?”
“What do you think?” He finally looked at me again, and I saw the conflict in those green eyes. Anger, yes. But also confusion. Maybe even curiosity. “This whole town’s gonna be talking about how I’m some queer now. Thanks for painting a target on my back.”
I reached out, grabbing Nick by the arm and turning him to face me. “If anyone,” I growled, “so much as says a nasty word to you, I’ll have them dealt with.” He stared at me, eyes wide with fear and surprise. “Nobody is going to hurt what’s mine, and that includesyou.”
Chapter 8
Nick
It was vaccination week and that meant rounding up all the cattle in the pasture nearest the house each morning, then swapping them out for the next group in the afternoon. It was grueling work, and it meant I’d been in the saddle from sunrise to sunset. My ass was not going to be happy. But my gelding Buck… well, he was thrilled.
I patted his neck as we headed toward the north pasture, Dante riding beside me on Rosie. Over the past couple of weeks, he’d gotten better in the saddle, not that I’d ever admit it to his face. He wasn’t bad to begin with, but riding for leisure and work were two different things. Angelo followed behind us on an old mare named Buttercup, looking as uncomfortable as ever despite all the practice he claimed to be getting. Despite his jeans and flannel, he looked as out of place as ever.
The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and dew-soaked grass. It should’ve been peaceful. Should’ve been just another day of ranch work like I’d done a thousand times before. But nothing was just anything anymore, not with Dante Valenti as my constant shadow.
