Wild Lies (Wild Heartlands #2)

Chapter 1

CHLOE

My pulse skips a beat when a sign up ahead comes into view.

It reads, “Welcome to Coldwater.” It’s worn and slightly rusted, but the pots of fresh summer flowers beneath it tell me the town is well-loved.

But more than that, it’s proof that I’m actually here; that I’m doing this.

I ease my foot off the gas as the snow-capped mountains that have surrounded me for miles change to small-town buildings.

I’ve been on the road for nearly three and a half hours, and my shoulders ache from hunching over the wheel, the tension sitting on them like a heavy weight. It was never my intention to do this drive alone, but I didn’t have a choice, not if I wanted to be there for Rachel, my sister.

The closer I get to my destination, the more my stomach twists and tightens, like each mile is dragging me further and further into a storm I can’t avoid.

I’m in Montana for Rachel’s wedding, and in approximately ten minutes—according to the GPS—I’ll be seeing my judgmental, cause me a heck of a lot of stress parents for the first time in seven years. Even the mountains feel like they’re leaning in a little closer, waiting to see what happens.

The steering wheel grows slick in my hands as my chest tightens with the worst kind of anticipation. I inhale deeply, blowing out the breath as I feel myself start to crumple into a knotted ball of panic; it’s a feeling that has become all too familiar recently.

I’ve been spiraling ever since the invitation arrived in the mail—cream card stock, gold edging and a panic attack in the making.

It’s not because my baby sister—and the only member of my family that I’ve kept in touch with—is getting married.

But because making sure I’m there for her means having to deal with the weighted expectation of my parents.

We’ve never truly seen eye-to-eye. I couldn’t do anything right and they poured any ounce of love they were capable of into my sister.

There isn’t a specific event in my life that I could pinpoint and say, “That is when I messed up and ruined everything.” So I live with the fact that I don’t have a close relationship with my parents and that every step I make is the wrong one in their eyes.

Which is exactly why my current life circumstances—newly single and funemployed—have to remain a secret.

Before I have a full-on breakdown, I turn the radio up and drum my fingers against the steering wheel in time with the music. Anything to distract myself.

Focusing on the road ahead, I navigate the rental car down the main street.

Two-story white and redbrick buildings line either side of the cobblestone street as the car crawls along.

Shop windows gleam under the sunlight, and I make a mental note of which ones to visit—like the bar tonight for something to soothe my nerves and the coffee shop tomorrow morning to recover.

It doesn’t take long for the backdrop to switch back to the mountains and fields that seem endless as I drive the last mile to the ranch.

Aside from having to be in my parents’ company for a few days, I think this—the nature and beauty of Montana—is going to be just what I need to figure out my next step, especially after everything that has happened these past few weeks back home in Seattle.

Home. It doesn’t feel much like home anymore.

Maybe Montana’s wide skies can ease the ache of uncertainty that’s been sitting on my chest recently. I can take stock and fully immerse myself in nature as I figure out what the future looks like for me.

Yes, this is going to be just what I need.

Minus having to see my parents.

My shoulders loosen for the first time in hours at the thought of being able to figure out a plan, even if I’m not quite sure where to start.

None of that matters right now. I love how peaceful it is out here, and that the only sound is the gentle rumble of the car’s engine and the low beat of the song playing on the radio.

Up ahead, I spot the wooden signage with the ranch name carved into it. I slow down, turning onto the track, following it toward the main house with a dust cloud in my wake.

For a fleeting moment, calm replaces the nerves clawing at my stomach as I spot the house up ahead.

Further on in the distance is a big, worn red barn.

There are a couple of smaller barns dotted around the place, and as I come to a stop at the bottom of the steps of the house, I notice a few ranch hands at work.

I furrow my brows, confusion giving me pause.

This isn’t the sort of place I would have thought Rachel would get married.

It’s clearly a working ranch, and it’s beautiful, but this is much more my vibe than hers.

Hell, on a rare family vacation, she told our camp neighbors that she was being held hostage by our parents.

My phone vibrates from its place in the cupholder, and I grab it up, a smile on my face when I see Maya’s name light up the screen. We might not be co-workers anymore, but she’s still my best friend.

Maya

Have you arrived? Is it as beautiful as you thought?

Chloe

Just arrived. It’s… different.

Maya

What does that mean?

Chloe

Just that it’s not exactly a wedding destination. At least not somewhere I thought my mom would let Rach get married.

I snap a picture and send it to Maya before opening the car door.

The heat of the summer day hits me almost instantly.

It’s thick with the musky scent of sun-warmed grass, dust and hay.

Maybe I can convince the owner to let me take some pictures while I’m here.

It’ll build up my portfolio, even if I do end up in a soulless fashion role again.

And if they say no, at least I can explore and take pictures of the natural beauty surrounding me.

My fingers itch for my camera; it’s the one thing that never judges me.

I’m looking around, lost in the fantasy of how I’m going to spend my time, when a shadow wide enough to swallow me falls over me.

My stomach drops before I turn, coming face-to-face with a real-life cowboy.

His face is pulled into a scowl as he stands before me.

Although he’s handsome, with his light brown hair hidden beneath his cowboy hat and his blue eyes, it’s the way they’re narrowed and hard, staring at me like he doesn’t want me here, that has me taking a step back. He’s intimidating, that’s for sure.

God, is this how they greet all their paying guests?

My smile feels pasted on, the kind you’d use when you’re dealing with a shitty customer but you can’t afford to lose your job by giving it to them straight.

I rock back on my heels, suddenly wishing I wore something else on my feet besides my sneakers.

Anything to add a few inches to my five-foot-three frame.

I’m determined to sound calm, like his presence has no effect on me, but I hear the slight wobble in my voice when I say, “Hi there, I’m here for the Reeves and Lawson wedding.”

I’ve barely got the words out before he snaps, “No, you’re not.”

I blink up at him, my head rearing back in shock, both at his tone and denial. Somewhere in the distance, a horse snorts, like it’s also unimpressed by my presence. Maybe this guy took some lessons from my mom before I arrived.

Blinking, I break away from his intense stare long enough to gather my thoughts before replying, “Yes, I am. Rachel’s my sister. She’s the bride.”

Grumpy—because that sure seems like a fitting name for him—stands taller, if that’s even possible. “No. You’re. Not. There ain’t no wedding here.”

Have I got my dates mixed up?

My attention bounces around the ranch before landing on another cowboy, one who has similar features to Grumpy, but his hair is longer and his jaw stubbled with a full mustache covering his top lip.

His gaze hooks mine, steady and assessing.

The chaos in my chest quiets for a heartbeat, like even my nervous uncertainty is pausing to listen.

But then he looks away, and the noise rushes back even louder than before. Wow.

I pull in a subtle breath before returning my attention to Grumpy, like the other guy—the quieter and more reserved one—didn’t just shake my whole foundation. What the hell was that? It felt like time paused, and the world stopped spinning for a second.

Grumpy folds his arms across the broad expanse of his chest, waiting for me to speak or leave, his impatience burning into me.

I open my mouth before snapping it shut and searching for the right words. Swallowing down the lump of frustration in my throat at feeling like a burden, I say, “I know the wedding’s here. The invite said June twenty-second. Hartlands’ Ranch.”

The cowboy scoffs, the sound a mix of disgust and annoyance. “Then you’re in the wrong place. This is Heartlands, spelt like the organ.” He stabs his finger into his chest. “Like the great state of Montana; H-e-a-r-t-lands. Not H-a-r-t-lands.”

Oh. Heat floods my cheeks, burning hotter than the sun. Perfect. Way to make a fool of yourself, Chloe.

I twist my mouth, a wry smile pulling at my lips. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got that mixed up. Do you know—” I cut myself off, the look on his face telling me he just wants me gone. Backing away, I hold my hands up. “Sorry, umm, and thank you, I guess.”

Climbing into the rental car, I buckle myself in and drive off, avoiding looking at him or the other cowboy whose silent observation is calling to me. Hopefully, I don’t see either of them again.