Chapter 2
Mallory
I’m standing in the middle of a small cabin at a dude ranch in cowboy country, Texas, seventy miles from Indigo Hills, and if you’d asked me if I ever thought I’d be here, the answer would be no. I’m not into cowboys, I’m not into trail rides, and I’m not into people.
This is basically my idea of hell.
But the best (and worst) part about being a twin is that I love being with my younger sister by fourteen minutes. So when she insisted that I come on this girls’ trip, it was hard to say no.
At 24, Kate and I live very different lives.
Part of that is because our mother raised us to be independent.
The other part is because I was in a bad car accident as a child that impacted me in ways it didn’t her.
I had to relearn how to walk post-surgery, with a scar down one hip serving as a reminder of that day.
While I don’t remember the accident itself, I remember the aftermath and all its struggles.
Art is what saved me. My mom set me up with a canvas and paints, and I lost myself in worlds of my own creation.
Kate was great and did therapy with me even though she didn’t have to.
She’s the sunshiny version of us, whereas I am definitely the shades of gray.
We both have blue eyes and blonde hair, though I dye mine black.
She loves colorful clothing while I’m always wearing something black.
It suits me. My sister makes fun of me all the time, but you don’t have to try to match things when everything in your wardrobe goes with black.
And I don’t have that kind of time with twin toddlers.
I got pregnant my senior year of college with a guy I was casually seeing.
He never misses a child support payment, but he doesn’t make any effort to see the boys, which is just as well.
It makes daily life easier for me, because they don’t know what they’re missing.
And to be honest, I don’t press the issue because you can’t make someone want to see their kids, and forcing that relationship is not what’s best for the boys in the long run.
Now I’m living with my mother until I can save money for a down payment on my own home.
“Hi, ladies.” That’s Kate’s friend Izzy, who is somewhat reserved and quiet and an all-around great human. She’s rooming with her sister, Bree in the other bedroom. “The bulb is out in our bathroom, so they’re sending someone to replace it.”
Kate stuffs her socks into the top drawer of the dresser. “Thanks for taking care of that. Mal, I left room for you.” She knows that I leave my things in packing cubes, not that it matters. She’ll take anything of mine that she wants. Same with me.
Izzy sits on the unmade bottom bunk, legs criss-crossed. “What do you ladies want to do first?”
I look at my sister and shrug. I want to be back home with my boys.
Kate looks pointedly at me. “Stop.”
I fling my palms up. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.” She tugs one of my braids lovingly while Izzy smiles empathetically.
Kate studies me, and then turns toward Izzy. “We have to go to the main office anyway to have them walk us through the app. And now that we’re settled, Mal, do you want to hang back and make up our beds? I can take your phone and get it all set up.”
I love that my sister knows I need a little bit of quiet. “Yes.” I hand her my phone with a smile. We’re in each other’s phones all the time, so giving it to her is no big deal.
I climb the ladder to the top bunk and roll out the twin mattress pad, tucking the corners around the mattress, which is surprisingly soft and luxurious.
I was expecting a two-inch prison cushion on terrible springs, but I’m pleased to find it’s well-made.
I follow with the sheets before tucking Kate’s comforter inside the bunk’s wooden frame.
After I fold the comforter back and center her pillows, I move to the bottom bunk to make mine.
Being on the bottom bunk makes it easier for me to escape outdoors when overstimulated.
Kate insisted on buying us coordinated bedding, seeing as neither one of us sleeps on a twin bed anymore.
How she found two reversible Ralph Lauren comforters at the discount store, I’ll never know.
She is a bargain hunter, that one. But I’m glad because it is so soft.
If we’re going to spend the week here, she’s right.
We need to love our blankets. The design is tiny floral, so I turn mine to the dusty blue side, which is the same color as our eyes.
Just as I fold the comforter back, I hear a male voice at the cabin door.
“Hello?” The knock is firm.
“Come on in.”
“Yes, Wild Vista staff. I’m here to change the light bulb in the bathroom.”
I step into the main cabin space, which consists of the seating area, a breakfast table, and a kitchenette. “It’s just over here.” I point to the bathroom door before looking his way. And I immediately stop mid-stride.
The most beautiful man on Earth is standing in front of me. He has medium-brown hair cut in a popular style, his scruff of beard the same color. His distressed trucker cap is faded blue with the Wild Vista Ranch logo on it, Wayfarer glasses completing his look. Not sunglasses. Just clear lenses.
To top it off, the man’s broad shoulders are muscular, his tight work tee hugging every plane and curve of his body.
The last time I had a reaction to a man like this, I ended up pregnant with twins.
So I wipe my hands on my denim shorts, swallow, and head back into my room, because I don’t need to be anywhere near someone who makes me want to do bad things.
After a few minutes, the man calls out from the hallway. “It’s working now.”
“Thank you,” I reply, refusing to turn around as I place the small rug that Kate brought right in front of the bunks.
His voice is deep and rich. “Well, my name is Cam, if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Cam.”
“Okay, yeah. See you around.”
And as soon as I hear the door shut behind Cam, I fall onto my bed, flinging my hand. over my eyes. Why on earth did I agree to come here?