Chapter 12
Liz
I wake to the weight of Camila’s thigh over my hips, and the first thing that comes to mind is all the ways my life has been turned upside down in the last month and a half.
I trail my fingertips down her bare back, and she sighs, half asleep, half awake. It’s a new kind of morning for me. Today, the world can wait. I let my hand rest on her hip while I try to memorize this moment, to hold it forever in case it never happens again.
Camila shifts, like she’s about to say something, but all I hear is a little purr. She rolls over, smiles at me, and... the phone rings.
She tenses slightly, grumbles, and then hides her face in the crook of my neck as if she could physically escape the sound.
“Up and at ’em, time to work, Lizzie!” I hear on the other end of the line, and I have to hold the phone away so my eardrum doesn’t burst. My sister Tessa always comes in at a full gallop, no matter the hour of day or night.
“Guess who just passed Socorro and is headed to the ranch with a full tank and zero concern for speeding tickets.”
I pull the phone away and check the time. 7:05 a.m.
I want to answer, ask why she’s up so early, but she’s already hung up. Typical. She probably never went to bed, which would explain the hour.
I stare at the ceiling and let out a long sigh. My kid sister—the only person who can drive me completely up the wall—is headed to the ranch.
Camila yawns, stretches like a cat, and rests her head on my chest, waiting for an explanation.
“It was my sister Tessa. She’s on her way.”
“T-Lee? Damn, the last time I saw her, she was thirteen or fourteen. She was a little nuts,” she jokes, shaking her head, amused.
“Yeah, well, you can drop the 'half' now. She’s even worse than before,” I admit.
“What’s she doing now? I thought she’d be working the ranch with you.”
“On the ranch? Not a chance, she’d drive me up the wall,” I say, rolling my eyes. “She does rodeo professionally. September’s a little slower, so I’m guessing she’s taking a break to come out.”
“Rodeo? I remember she was a legend as a kid. My grandmother nearly had a heart attack when she climbed onto that huge bull, when she was just a little kid.”
“Damn. Colorado.”
“Huh?”
“The bull. His name was Colorado. He wasn’t a rodeo bull, but I remember he was massive.
The second he felt my sister on him, he pitched a fit, mad as hell.
It took five cowboys to pull her off, and she wound up on the ground, coated in dust and shaking, but happy.
Your grandmother grounded her from riding for a whole month, no roping, not even going near the barns.
Now she bronc rides sometimes, but mostly she runs barrel races,” I explain.
Camila gives me a gorgeous smile before bending to kiss my nipple and settling on my chest.
“I like the idea of your kid sister getting under your skin,” she teases, running her fingertips along my side.
The shower barely fits one person, but we make it work. I stand behind her, lacing my fingers over her belly as the water pours over us. Then I take the soap and start with her shoulders, later crouching to lather her legs.
She lets me wash her hair, and the intimacy is almost overwhelming. We end up with my back against the tiled wall, both of us gasping as we try not to be too loud.
***
T-Lee shows up about two hours later while we’re in the kitchen, the roar of her Harley-Davidson spooking the cattle as the dogs bark in her wake.
“Damn, I missed the ranch,” she says by way of greeting as soon as she pulls off her helmet.
She grabs a mug from the cabinet and pours herself coffee without asking.
“So what’s the plan with you two? I hope you’re treating my sister right, because she’s been obsessed with you since she was a teenager,” she adds, lifting the mug toward Camila in a toast.
I spit my orange juice, which only makes T-Lee burst out laughing. Camila stares at her, not quite sure how to respond.
“Hey, I’d like to shoot some videos while I’m here. You know, for my TikTok. Want to be my model? They’ve seen plenty of my sister already.”
“Just go with it. It won’t last long,” I assure her.
To my surprise, Camila slips into the role easily. She’s much more natural on camera than I am, and T-Lee films her while one of the cowboys walks her through some basic ranch chores.
Over lunch, the ping, ping of her cell phone never stops.
“You’re trending,” she announces suddenly. “Seriously. One of the videos I posted has gone viral.”
“Delete it, damn it,” I protest.
“You don’t get it, but I bet the lawyer does. Look, people are asking how much it would cost to spend a week out here and live your lifestyle. Well, something like it.”
“Just what I needed,” I huff, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “We’ve got enough work without dealing with influencers, city slickers, and the like.”
“Your sister’s not wrong about that,” cuts in Camila, who’s sided with her, the traitor. “By my math, the ranch loses money, but not much each year. Either way, it’s a slow drip that’ll drown it. If we find an extra revenue stream...”
I want to argue, but the truth is we’ve been scraping by for years, with no money for anything, and I know full well that the first bump we hit—a drought, a cattle sickness, whatever—could sink us. Beside me, Camila rubs her chin, thoughtful.
***
At dusk, I ride alongside my sister toward the north pastures, just for the pleasure of heading out together on horseback like when we were kids.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she sighs, stopping on a rise that overlooks a big stretch of the ranch.
“It’s always been beautiful,” I admit.
“So, did you finally land your lawyer, or what’s the deal?” she asks without preamble.
“Maybe,” I confess. “Probably. Or at least, I hope so.”
“Is she staying or going back to Chicago?”
“You working for the FBI now?” I grumble.
“You didn’t answer,” she presses.
“I don’t know,” I confess with a long sigh. “I don’t know if she wants the ranch and...”
“You’re a dumbass,” she blurts, taking off at a gallop.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yell, galloping after her.
“She doesn’t want the ranch—she wants you. Try to get a clue already. Come on, race you to the barns,” she adds, laughing her head off.