Falling Hard for the Billionaire Cowboy

4. AUSTIN

Chapter four

AUSTIN

I don't know if I should be angry, amused, or frustrated. The woman at my doorway is accusing me of stealing her home and, believe it or not, kidnapping her parents. Each time she looks my way, her green eyes flash with anger, and her words tumble out in a rush.

"This is my family's property! Where are my parents? What have you done with them?" she demands, her voice rising with each question.

I raise my hands in a placating gesture, trying to interject. "Ma'am, I think there's been a misunderstanding-"

But she isn't listening. She continues, her accusations growing more outlandish by the second. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. This is definitely not how I'd expected my evening to go. I was planning to go to the hospital to see Noah.

And now, I’m standing face to face with this pretty lady.

Before I can explain again, the sound of tires on gravel catches my attention. A police cruiser pulls up, and I feel a mix of relief and exasperation as I recognize the officer stepping out. It’s Santiago, one of the town policemen who I know well.

Before I can speak, the woman is already rushing towards him. "Santiago, it's me, Hayley, Hayley Miller. Do you remember me?" she calls out.

Folding my arms across my chest, I listen. "So, her name is Hayley, huh..." I mumble under my breath, watching as she gives Santiago a rundown of what had happened, shooting daggers my way every few seconds.

One of my dogs nudges at my leg, sensing the tension. "Easy boy, easy," I say softly, stroking his head. When I look back up, Santiago is looking at me sheepishly.

He pulls me to the side, his voice low. "Listen, Austin, there's been a bit of a mix-up. Yes, Hayley is the Millers' daughter. They sold the property to you, but according to her, they never told her."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're kidding me."

Santiago shakes his head. "Wish I was. Look, do you want to settle this amicably, or are you still planning on pursuing a trespassing charge?"

I glance over at Hayley. She is looking down now, unable to meet my eyes. At that moment, perhaps I’m stupid or just weak to pretty ladies – whatever it is, she looks cute, her upper cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I grin to myself, thinking that I'm not going to make it easy for her.

"Is there anything you want to say, Miss Miller?" I ask.

I notice her green eyes flash before she swallows her complaints. I don't even hide my grin this time as she says, "I'm sorry. I am completely out of the loop like you said."

I nod, then turn to Santiago, who looks grateful that the fight has ended somewhat amicably.

"We'll get out of your hair now, Austin," Santiago says, relief evident in his voice. "If you need anything else, let me know."

I nod again as I watch them leave, but this time Santiago is helping Hayley with her suitcase – the supposed luggage with the gun in it, I muse. I step out onto the porch, remembering my original plans for the evening before this unexpected interruption.

Getting into my truck and heading back into town, I roll the windows all the way down, letting the gentle breeze sweep through. The radio is playing softly in the background, easing the tension away from my shoulders.

"Green eyes, with a big smile," the singer croons in the background.

I can't help but snicker, remembering the feisty lady who had landed on my doorstep. What are the odds of a stranger crossing paths with you twice on the same day? I wonder.

I absently tap my fingers against the steering wheel as I remember more of our interactions. "She's a pretty lady. A pretty feisty lady," I sing along, making up my own lyrics.

By the time I reach the hospital, it’s well past visiting hours. But in our small town where everyone knows everybody, they immediately understand I’m there to check on Noah. I find myself surrounded by a small crowd of nurses.

"Oh, Austin, we heard about the fire at your ranch," one nurse says, her face creased with concern. "Is everything alright?"

"This heat is awful. I hope your animals are okay," another chimes in.

"Just tell me if you need any help. I’ve shoveled hay a time or two."

The other nurses snicker, causing everyone to laugh.

"The fire's out now, thanks to everyone's help. And the animals are fine, don't you worry." I smile, touched by their concern. After a few more minutes of small talk, I managed to charm the nurses into letting me see Noah. "I won't be long, I promise," I assure them. Betty, the head nurse on night duty, leads me to Noah's room. As I enter, my gaze is immediately drawn to the young man with his arm in a cast. Apart from that, Noah seems okay. "Thank you, God," I whisper, moving closer.

As I approach, Noah's eyes flutter open. "Boss," he greets, trying to sit up.

I push him back down. "Easy there, cowboy. How are you feeling?"

Noah winces slightly. "I'm okay, boss. How's the ranch? Did we get the fire under control? Are all the animals okay? Did anyone else get hurt?"

I nod and when I can get a word in, I tell him: "Everything's fine now. You need to focus on getting better. And don't worry about work - you'll have paid leave until you're a hundred percent recovered."

Noah's eyes widen. "Boss, I can't accept that. I don't need …"

"Now don't be stubborn," I cut him off. "You're taking the paid leave, and that's final."

I look at the young man before me, feeling a surge of pride. Noah is a good kid, only nineteen years old, and he is already working harder than any other kid his age I know. He’s been working on my ranch for a year to save up for college. I'd offered to pay for his tuition, but the kid didn't want handouts. As a man, I respect his decision and have supported him as best I can.

Noah also supports his single mother and younger sister, so every dollar counts. I know he'll work twice as hard when he gets back, but for now, he needs to heal.

"Alright, boss," Noah finally agrees, "but I'll make it up to you when I'm back. You'll see."

I nod with a small smile on my face. "I know you will, kid. Now, I've got to head out - promised the nurses I wouldn't stay long."

As I drive home, my mind wanders back to the events of the day. The fire, the injured ranch hand, the barn and the animals, and the unexpected visitor - Hayley Miller. It has been quite a day, especially by the standards of our usually quiet town.

***

As soon as I get home, I crack open a can of beer and settle onto the porch. My dogs, Duke and Rusty, flank me on either side, their warm bodies a comforting presence. At that moment, with the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I can’t imagine any better scene.

The shrill ring of my phone breaks the tranquil silence. Glancing at the screen, I see it’s an international call. With a sigh, I grab my beer and pad back to my office, flicking on the lights to prepare for a video call.

"Good evening, Mr. Johnson. I'm sorry to disturb you," Zhang Wei, my company's representative in China speaks up, as soon as I accept the call.

I lean back in my leather chair, taking a swig of beer. "No problem, Wei. What's the situation?"

"Sir, we've made progress with the merger between our China and Japan branches. The Japanese team has agreed to our terms, but they're requesting a face-to-face meeting next month."

I nod, my mind racing with the implications. "That's good news. How are the projections looking?"

As Wei rattles off figures and projections, I can't help but marvel at how much preparation he has done. What had started as a single boutique hotel I had inherited, has grown into the Johnson Luxury Resorts, a chain spanning twenty-four countries.

"If this merger goes through, sir," Wei continues, "we'll be looking at a 30% increase in our Asian market share."

"Excellent work, Wei," I say, a smile tugging at my lips. "Set up that meeting. I'll fly out myself to seal the deal."

Ending the call, I decide to tackle a few more tasks before bed. My mind wanders to my other investments. Being a major stockholder in Enterprise Products Partners has paid off handsomely, adding me to the billionaire club.

Yet, even with all the money in the world, nothing can beat those simple moments on the porch with my dogs and a cold beer. Speaking of which, I glance at the beer can I'd brought along – the frost has melted, leaving a ring of condensation on my desk. "Probably doesn't taste as good as when it was cold." I muse, still taking a swig and wiping off the desk with my sleeve.

The hours tick by as I pour over reports and emails. When I finally look up, the clock reads 2:30 AM. "I guess I'll eat at breakfast," I sigh, running a hand across my stubbled face.

As I shut down my computer, my thoughts drift to earlier that day – the fire at the ranch, the injured kid, and the feisty woman who'd shown up at my door. Hayley Miller.

As I finally crawl into bed, I chuckle to myself. "Do I look like a serial killer…"

My last thought before drifting off is of green eyes and a fiery spirit. Something tells me that Hayley Miller might be the most interesting development yet in my already extraordinary life.