All she could do was squeeze her eyes closed. ‘No. No, Ifelther this morning. I felt her move this morning and I knew that today would be the day. I knew—’ When the sob threatened to come, she bit it back. She knew, with absolute clarity, that if she let it out, it would consume her.
The void was approaching. The force of the vacuum pulling her in. ‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘Just check again. She kicked this morning. A few hours ago. And the nursery …’
The nursery was ready. Benji had painted the walls white, and Sierra had stencilled pretty pink roses on them. He’d spent hours trying to make sense of the giant crib’s assembly instructions before Sierra, who was better at such things, had taken pity on him and stepped in to help. She had washed and folded the tiny onesies and socks. She had laid the blanket that her own mother had once quilted inside the Hunt family’s ancient bassinet by her bed knowing that she wanted her daughter to be close in the night those first few months …
‘There’s no heartbeat,’ Doctor Patel said gently. ‘Sometimes these things—’
‘Please,’ Sierra desperately threw out one hand, begging the doctor to stop. ‘Don’t.Don’t.’ She couldn’t handle it. Even the words, so simple, were too much.
A new contraction, now so brutal, so mocking, rose, keeping her in the present she suddenly and desperately wanted to leave. It tore through her, splitting her soul in two.
Sierra didn’t make a sound as the rendering halved her, dividing her into Sierra-Before and Sierra-After, one so hopeful and excited, one so numb, so empty.
She doubled over as the grief clawed at her, pulling her into that void and, though she was eerily silent, in her own head, she screamed. Her shock and rage and loss mingled inside of her, and when Benji came forward and took her hand, rasped, ‘Baby, tell me what I can do?’
She said, ‘Nothing.’
And she pulled away.
Chapter 1
Hunt Ranch, Santa Barbara County – December, 2025
(One Year Later)
As the crisp winter air slipped beneath her wool coat and prickled her skin, Sierra stood on the front porch of her family’s ranch house and watched her brother painstakingly climb out of the Jeep and hobble across the expansive front lawn.
Behind Mav, the hills of Santa Barbara County rose up out of the valley, verdant and lush from the rain. One mile down from the sprawling family home, nestled in the valley, Hunt Ranch and Resort thrived.
Mav had built the luxury dude ranch after their parents had died in a car accident a decade earlier. Unexpectedly in charge of thousands of acres and faced with increasingly stringent government regulations on ranching, her brother had decided to diversify. With Sierra’s blessing, he had sold off pockets of valuable land to fund the resort’s construction, and although it had taken them almost five years to become solvent, now, the resort was an award-winning vacation destination.
The few cattle they still kept as an homage to Hunt Ranch’s cowboy history dotted the same hills. But where the resort thrived, Maverick, typically so large and looming, was gaunt and pale, his body almost lanky after his hospital stay.
He’d been shot.
Sierra still struggled to reconcile that simple fact in her mind. It didn’t matter that she had spent the long hours waiting for him to come out of surgery or visited him in the hospital every day. It didn’t matter that she had heard Mav’s fiancée, Nina, recount the events leading up to the shooting a dozen times or that she’d stepped in to look after her niece, Poppy, while Mav had been in the hospital and Nina had been looking after him. Sierra couldn’t think of it. Of Mav, so strong and vital, almost dying at the hand of a deranged narcissist who’d followed Nina to Hunt Ranch.
Though Mav walked by himself, Nina hovered on one side. On the other, Benji strolled casually, but they all knew he stayed close in case Mav needed him. Even Mav’s dog, Shadow – a mutt he’d rescued years before – looked ready to catch him, her belly to the ground, her body scooting backwards with every step that he took towards the ranch house.
Sierra didn’t rush him, didn’t hurry to his side and help him up the stairs as she so desperately wanted to, knowing that he wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead, she planted her feet to the spot, leaned against the porch rail in her best attempt at nonchalance, and when he stopped in front of her, said, ‘I dropped Poppy with Jenna so you could get settled. Seems like it was a good call; you look like shit, Mav.’
He released a winded laugh, raised one unsteady hand to swipe at the sweat coating his brow from the short walk across the lawn. ‘Feel like it too,’ he replied tiredly. ‘Benji had to help me get into the Jeep at the hospital,’ he added, his tone thick with the self-disgust of a man who was used to being infallible.
Sierra’s gaze flickered to Benji. He stood a little out of their circle, his hands tucked into his pockets. She couldn’t figure out why he didn’t look juvenile in the jeans, sneakers, and black Tom Waits T-shirt, but thought that, maybe, it was because he wore the skin underneath the clothes so confidently. So honestly.
He had come home the same day she’d told him Mav had been hurt. Despite their past and the fact that they could no longer stand to be in the same room as one another, he had wordlessly joined forces with her to bully Nina into leaving the hospital to sleep each night. He had stepped seamlessly into Mav’s shoes at Hunt Ranch, overseeing the hundred and twenty horses and various other animals in her brother’s stead, so that Sierra could focus on her job managing the front end of the business and mitigating the fallout from the shooting. Benji had done everything right – again. And, still, every time she looked at him, all she felt was deep, black anger.
Used to Sierra’s coldness, Benji ignored her. He winked at Nina and stretched his back exaggeratedly. ‘Almost put my back out too. He may have lost weight but he’s still a heavy fucker.’
Mav laughed tiredly, but the sound was music to Sierra’s ears. She’d lost her parents, Baby Girl, and – though it was her own fault – Benji, too, so Maverick was all she had left, and she didn’t think she could survive anything happening to him.
‘Let’s get you inside.’ Nina stepped forward, her hands outstretched to help Mav up the stairs. ‘It’s chilly out here.’
‘Actually …’ Mav visibly winced as he lowered himself down onto the porch step. ‘I just want to sit outside for a while.’ He tilted his head back and sighed deeply. ‘Christ, it feels so good to be home.’
Nina hovered. ‘Mav, what if you catch a chill? It’s cold and you’re still—’
‘I’m okay. Just tired.’ He tapped the spot next to him. ‘Come here.’ When Nina only raised her eyebrows, clearly planning her counterargument, Mav added, ‘I might catch a chill. We need to cuddle for warmth.’
