Falling Hard for the Billionaire Cowboy

9. HAYLEY

Chapter nine

HAYLEY

“Muhahahaha!” As I drive away, my best attempt at a villainous laugh spills out, echoing inside the car. The sound makes me laugh even harder since it sounds like a perfect mix between a cackle and a snort that would make any B-movie villain proud. I can also feel a cheesy grin spreading across my face, my cheeks almost aching with the effort of containing it.

"Take that, Austin," I mutter, still grinning like a fool. "Let's see how you like being left in the dust for once."

The extra drive to the cottage doesn't even bother me now. The satisfaction of seeing Austin's shocked face as I drove away is worth every additional mile. I replay the moment in my head, savoring it like a fine wine.

“Play the music!” I yell to myself, increasing my stereo to full volume.

So, is this what perfect revenge feels like? I muse.

Minutes later, I finally arrive at the back of the ranch.

Yes.

It is the very back–back.

The cottage is tucked away at the very end of the ranch, making it ‘almost’ isolated from the main residence. As I pull up, I'm struck by how well-maintained the area seems. The cottage doesn't look abandoned at all from this distance; instead, it seems like someone has taken the time to regularly check on it.

Wondering if the inside is the same, I drive close to the entrance, and as soon as I step out, I'm hit with a flood of nostalgia. Various memories begin to pop up, like a whack-a-mole game in my mind. I remember camping here in the summer with my parents, the smell of marshmallows roasting over an open fire, and my dad's terrible ghost stories.

A giggle escapes me as I recall the time when I ran away from the main house to this very spot. I was ten, and I'd had a massive argument with my mom over... what was it? Oh right, she wouldn't let me get my ears pierced.

"You're too young," Mom had said, waving the spoon she was using to make something on the stove.

"But all my friends have them!" I'd cried, stomping my foot dramatically.

"When you're older," she'd replied, unmoved by my theatrics.

In a fit of pre-teen rage, I'd packed a backpack with essentials (three candy bars and my favorite stuffed animal) and stormed off to the cottage. I thought I was so clever, so grown-up.

Thirty minutes later, Mom had found me, of course. I can still feel the sharp sting of her hand on my bottom, followed immediately by the ice cream my dad had bribed me with as a peace offering.

I later learned my mom had been the one who bought the ice cream. So, we'd made up, and I'd returned home, not daring to run away ever again.

I let out a deep sigh, the memories fading as I pop open my trunk to grab my luggage.

Thud .

The heavy suitcase hits the ground, and I can only half-drag, half-pull it to the porch. In my mind, I'm wondering how I had managed to carry it back in Redstone. “Probably adrenaline,” I mumble.

Eyeing the door of the cottage, I wonder if Austin might have messed with the lights or the water, or something that was equally petty. "If he has, I swear ..." I mutter, pushing open the door.

To my surprise, everything looks intact as I step inside. The cottage is small, with just two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a combined living room and kitchen area. It smells a bit stuffy, but that’s nothing a good airing out won't fix. I realize with a start that the place is actually well-maintained, no, like - really.

It isn’t the cobweb-covered disaster I'd half-expected.

I know my parents have been gone for years, so it can only be Austin who keeps it up, or has someone do it, of course.

Slowly, I begin to go from place to place, flicking light switches and turning on faucets, testing everything. There is no pettiness (or trucks) involved… no pranks, so, I’m good to go. I'm not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Maybe because I won’t have the chance to prank him back?

Or do I just want to cause trouble?

Well, I’m not answering either of them.

"I pay rent," I say to the empty room, “so it has to be livable at least."

I place my luggage in the middle of the small living room and pull up all the shades, letting in the sunlight.

As I stare at everything in the morning light, there is only one thing on my mind.

I need to make this place my own space

So, I begin to clean, wiping down every surface in the cottage. It's not too bad, just a light layer of dust that comes away easily.

As I'm arranging my clothes in the wardrobe of one of the bedrooms, I'm suddenly reminded of the expression on Austin's face earlier as I drove away from him. “What did he expect? It was so obvious” I giggle before I can stop myself.

I catch myself pausing, a frown settling between my brows as I realize I'm laughing because of him. "This is only the beginning," I grumble, folding another blouse with perhaps more force than necessary.

By the time I've done the whole cottage, it's already evening, and I'm starving. My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I haven't eaten since breakfast. I move to the kitchen, relieved to see that there are pots and kettles available. But as I open the fridge, I realize I've forgotten the most important thing - groceries.

"Oh, come on!" I groan, smacking my forehead. "How could I be so stupid?"

The thought of driving back to town seems like telling me to crawl on my knees on gravel while carrying a rock on my back – that is how tired I am at the moment. Plus, my shoulder blades are strung tight, making me feel the pressure even more. It would take hours to go back and forth, and it just seems impossible.

“A little cup of water should do the trick,” I mumble, but it did not.

Who am I kidding?

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. "Guess it's a hunger strike for me tonight," I mutter, deciding to take a shower instead. The thought of going to bed hungry isn't appealing, but considering all the sleep I've missed lately, I'll probably sleep through the hunger pangs.

I turn on the light in the bathroom, grateful for the warm glow. As I'm washing my face with soap suds threatening to drip into my eyes, the light suddenly goes out.

I mean, I know my eyes are closed. But you can just immediately feel, or should I say see it when the lights are off.

"You've got to be kidding me," I splutter, trying to rinse my face in the dark.

I'm not afraid of the dark, not really, but there's just something about being in a pitch-black bathroom that creeps me out. It’s like something is waiting to jump out.

I quickly rush out, blinking rapidly as my eyes sting from the soap. I try the switch outside the bathroom, but it's no use - the bulb seems to be completely dead.

"Great. Just great," I grumble, grabbing my phone to use as a makeshift flashlight.

As I finish my shower using my phone flashlight, I realize it's not just the bathroom light that's gone out. My bedroom is dark too, though I can still see light coming from the kitchen and front porch. One of the circuits must have tripped.

"I bet if he saw me now, he'd be delighted," I scoff, thinking of Austin's smug face. I can almost hear his voice: "Need some help with that, princess?"

Frustrated, I quickly dress in the dark, wrap myself in a large blanket, and prop a pillow behind my back. I'm sitting up in bed, and the only light in the room is the glow of my phone screen when a thought resurfaces.

"I should call Mom and Dad," I murmur, pulling up their contact.

I try to video call them, but it's not connecting. They must be out of coverage. With a sigh, I switch to email instead, quickly typing out a message:

"Hey, Mom and Dad,

Made it to the cottage safely. Everything's fine here, just a bit dusty. Had to do some cleaning, but it's cozy now. Hope you're having a great time on your trip! Love you both.

Don’t worry if you can't reach me - cell service is a bit spotty out here too."

I hesitate for a moment before hitting send, wondering if I should mention the fight with Austin or the electrical issues. In the end, I decide against it. They don't need to know about the drama, and I don't want them to worry.

As I set my phone aside, I consider sleeping in the living room where there's still light. But the thought of the cold that might creep in during the night makes me shiver. No, better to stay in bed, even if it is dark.

I begin tossing and turning, my mind racing with thoughts of moving in, the cottage, and what tomorrow might bring. Despite my hunger and the unfamiliar surroundings, I find myself drifting off to sleep.

Just before I slip into unconsciousness, a final thought flits through my mind: "I wonder what he’s doing right now..."

As I drift off, a frown settles between my brows. It seems to remain that way until I wake up.

***

It’s early, but at this moment, all I can feel is pure euphoria after what feels like hours of pure uninterrupted sleep. And now, with my hands stretched right above my head, ironing out the kinks, I couldn’t feel any better.

But almost immediately, I’m greeted by two unwelcome sensations. First, there is a sharp pain in my neck, courtesy of the odd angle I'd slept at. Second, it's still pitch dark inside the room. It seems my phone must have died in the middle of the night since I didn't charge it at all yesterday.

“Ugh,” I groan, blindly crawling towards the edge of the bed. I push one of my hands forward as a guide, grabbed my blanket, and finally find my way out of the room and into the living area where the single bulb is still on.

Wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, I pad to where my charger lies. A glance out the window tells me it's just before dawn, the sky-deep indigo gradually lightening at the edges. It’s quite beautiful and sparks more memories of my childhood.

Wincing, I look around again before plugging in my phone and waiting for it to come to life. My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I haven't eaten since yesterday morning. The hunger pangs are impossible to ignore now.

"Great," I mutter. "Looks like I have no choice but to go to town."

Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. My parents used to keep a small vegetable garden with squash, tomatoes, and potatoes, along with a couple of fruit trees scattered throughout the ranch. What if it's still there?

The probability seems low – it's been years since I left for college. There's no telling if Austin continued the tradition. But as I sit in silence, a plan begins to stew in my head.

If I could look back on this moment, I'd probably have slapped myself and warned me against going. But right now, my growling stomach is doing all the thinking.

"It's still early," I reason aloud. "I doubt Austin would be in the garden at this hour. I'll just grab a few things and be back before anyone spots me."

I return to my bedroom, grabbing a hoodie and my sneakers. The blanket comes too – it's chilly outside. I leave my phone in the kitchen to charge, figuring I won't need it for a quick garden raid.

As I head out, I try to quell my guilt. "It's not really stealing if my parents planted it initially, right?" I mumble, unconvinced but unwilling to turn back.

The moment I step outside, I'm greeted by an early morning cold that makes my lungs ache. It's been so long since I've breathed air this crisp, reminding me of how polluted the city air is. As I trek down the path, dew from the grass clings to my pajama pants, making me wince at the cold, uncomfortable sensation against my skin.

Even with the moon and a few stars still visible, it's hard to see clearly. And because I had decided not to take my phone for light, I stumble over outcropping roots and stubborn rocks, biting back words I don’t say aloud. The silence is actually too silent –if that makes sense. I mean, the only thing I can literally hear is a distant bird calling out for its mate.

So, each time I trip – I have to be really quiet; I don’t dare make a sound, knowing my voice would echo across the ranch.

Minutes later, with a bruised shin and scraped elbow, I finally reach the vegetable garden. Never once in my life have I salivated from seeing simple raw ingredients alone, but here I am.

But once again, as always it seems, fate decides that I can’t have it. My excitement quickly fades as I realize there’s a metal fence surrounding the garden. "You've got to be kidding me," I grumble, wondering if my parents or Austin put it up to keep out the livestock. Either way, it's now keeping me out too.

I contemplate going back, but my rumbling stomach leaves me at a standstill. "Come on, Hayley," I mutter. "You used to climb trees and fences. This is nothing."

Of course, that was more than ten years ago and if I admit defeat now, I wouldn’t be Hayley.

Eyeing the fence, I tie the blanket around my shoulders like a cape, then I grip the fence through the net-like structure, and I begin to climb. Halfway up, my legs start to shake – a brutal reminder of how long it's been since I've done anything this physical, especially on an empty stomach.

Gritting my teeth, I finally make it to the top and jump down on the other side. "That was easy," I lie to myself, ignoring my trembling legs. "I’m an independent woman, and I can get my own food."

Hurriedly, I pluck tomatoes, squash, carrots, and cabbage, gathering my harvest in the blanket. I tie the ends of the cloth and toss it over the fence before starting my climb back up.

Getting to the top is easier this time, and soon I'm climbing down the other side. Just as I reach the middle, a voice cuts through the silence:

"If you take another step, I'm going to shoot."

I freeze, two realizations hitting me simultaneously: I recognize that voice, and I've been caught. At the same time, two dogs start barking, making me flinch.

Slowly, I turn my head towards the voice, immediately blinded by a bright light shining on my face.

"Hayley?" Austin calls out, surprise evident in his tone.

"Ha ha, yes. It's me," I reply awkwardly.

I am mortified.

I wish the ground would open up and swallow me .