Chapter 3
firebird ranch
ROXANNE
Before my accident, any flight longer than two hours meant a five-star hotel, a drink, and a spa appointment.
This time, Leo and Allie have to load me up with melatonin to get me to sleep on the flight.
The only thing I am somewhat grateful for is the fact that I didn’t have more time to stew over the trip.
Once in the air, Leo holds my hand until I pass out and then gently nudges me awake as the plane begins to land. I keep my window shade pulled shut, not wanting to see the jagged peaks of Colorado taunting me on the way in.
Thankfully, we had the use of Priti’s private jet, which bounces as it lands at the Broomfield Airport. Those damn winds coming off the Rocky Mountains shake the plane, but I’m the only one who seems fazed. Once we disembark, my legs wobble, but they’re thankful to touch the ground.
The driver of the car we booked already has the door open for me and I hop in the back.
It’s a two-hour drive to Firebird Ranch.
The mountain towns we pass through on the way feel like they start and stop on the edge of a single mile.
Soon, civilization is no longer visible from the rear window.
As the road twists through the mountains, dark pines close in on either side like the jaws of a trap.
Relax. It’s just a road. Just trees. They’re not watching me.
The past isn’t waiting around the next bend, ready to swallow me whole. I’m trying to remain calm, and yet every mile taking us deeper into the forest feels like a step backward. A slow, inevitable undoing.
I lean my head on Allie’s shoulder in the back of the Tahoe and shut my eyes as the SUV rattles on the washed-out dirt road in front of us. I straighten and pull out my phone to distract me as our destination looms.
A working dude ranch in Colorado.
Priti is punishing me, that much is certain.
Thank goodness Leo and Allie are at my side.
They laugh and chat during the entire ride as they coo over the scenery passing by the window.
I’m still not ready for this all to be real.
An invisible elephant presses down on my chest as the car passes through the ornate gated entrance of Firebird Ranch.
I’m not sure whether the pressure is from returning to a state I left behind or the fact that we’re now at nine thousand feet above sea level.
“This is bananas!” Allie says, partially fogging the window from pressing her face to it. She then rolls her brown hair into a knot on her head. “Look at this place. Honestly. I’m dying to get out of this car and get started with this project. This is going to be the summer of our lives.”
“I need something to eat first,” Leo says, stuffing his ear pods back in his messenger bag. “Are you okay, Rox?”
My lips form a thin smile. “Fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Allie says.
The dust spewing from the back of the SUV dies down as we hit a paved road leading to a grand building resembling a castle made of river rock. My stomach tightens when we finally stop in front of a sign reading Emerald Lodge.
Voices calling from the lodge entrance pull my attention away from taking in the sprawling estate.
Two men step out of the lodge to greet us, both wearing actual ten-gallon hats like they’re auditioning for a country western band.
The first is younger—broad-shouldered, sun-kissed, and alarmingly attractive. His blond hair curls behind his ears, and when he gets closer, I catch a glimpse of his eyes: one green, one blue.
Behind him comes an older man with a silver beard and glacier-blue eyes that cut straight through to me. His hat looks like it’s seen a few rodeos, and he moves slower, but with authority.
“Welcome! Welcome!” the blond man says, opening our door.
“Thank you! OMG, this place is beautiful!” Allie says, almost bursting out of the car. “And you are?”
“Oh, uh, Wyatt Westin, but everyone calls me Topper, ma’am.”
Allie shakes his hand, almost pulling it out of its socket. “What’s your title here, Topper? Love the name. Leo, don’t you love that name?”
Leo rolls his eyes. “Lord, Allie, take a breath.”
Topper chuckles and tips his hat. “That’s okay, sir. We appreciate how friendly y’all are. Anyway, I’m the ranch manager, sort of a dude of all trades. My friend Rusty here is the general caretaker and co-owner.”
“Great to meet you, I’m Alison Whitlock. Production manager. Call me Allie.”
“Ma’am,” Topper bows slightly. “Nice to meet you. I’ll tend to your bags.”
“Oh yes, thank you.” Allie stretches out her arms taking in an over exaggerated gulp of air.
“Are you sure you’re going to be able to get out of the car?” Leo says, flashing me a smile.
I draw in a long breath and nod my head. “I can do this.”
Leo slides out while I continue to mutter I can do this to myself.
He shakes hands with Topper. “Leo McMann.”
Topper then reaches in to help me out. “Ma’am?”
“I’m all set, thanks,” I pretend to answer my phone. “Be right out.” I can only imagine how many times I’m going to have to use a fake phone call to get out of the social interactions I’m about to have.
“Oh, that’s Roxanne Denning,” Allie says to Topper. “She’s the writer.”
“Wonderful,” Topper says. “Looking forward to having y’all at the ranch this summer.”
Allie nudges Leo. “Did you hear that? Y’all. I love it.”
“It’s adorable,” Leo says. “Come on, Rox, there’s no reception out here anyway.”
Reluctantly, I get out of the car. Suddenly, my breath feels too loud in the silence. There’s no city hum, no honking taxis, no voices bleeding through paper-thin apartment walls. Just the eerie, suffocating quiet of the wilderness.
I need to pop another melatonin and head straight to my room.
Topper brings a luggage cart over to collect our bags and ushers us into the lodge lobby where more ranch staff waits to greet us.
Outside, the lodge looks rugged and weathered, but inside it opens like a cathedral to rustic luxury.
Vaulted ceilings, warm wood beams, and soft golden light spilling across leather armchairs and stone fireplaces.
Cedar and cinnamon mingle in the air. It feels so cozy, I’m almost tempted to let my guard down.
Almost.
“Roxanne?” Leo calls. “Want to come meet some of the staff?”
I pretend I don’t hear him as I wander out onto the terrace.
I’m not quite ready to meet everyone. In New York, I don’t have to smile all the time, I don’t have to shake hands and pretend I’m interested.
New York is a city full of people who want to keep their head down and not engage as they move through their day.
Coloradans are the opposite. They’re friendly, welcoming, they want to get to know you. This summer will be about writing a breakout piece that’ll put me back in World Explorer’s good graces and nothing more. Soon Allie, Leo, Rusty, and Topper join me on the terrace.
I know I’m supposed to immerse myself in the daily activities of the ranch, but I silently pray that none of those activities include going out into the woods.
“I don’t even have words for how beautiful this is,” Allie says, shoving her hands in the pockets of her baby blue jumpsuit.
“We’re excited to have y’all, ma’am,” Topper nods. “We can’t wait to show you how special Firebird Ranch is.”
“Whoa, who is that?” Allie gasps.
We all turn in unison to see a man riding in through a wooden fence from the pasture. He stops, swings a muscular leg over his horse and steps onto the ground. It’s almost as if the sun starts to follow only him.
This man looks like he was forged, not born.
He’s testosterone in its purest form. His sandy brown hair curls up from under his worn baseball cap and his dark jeans hug an ass that resembles Captain America’s.
He’s cut in a way that suggests he’s not some gym rat who grunts when he throws down his weights, but a man sculpted and muscular from chopping wood and slinging bales of hay.
“Yes,” Leo insists. “Who is that?”
Topper grins. “Oh, that’s Duke Faraday.”
“And who is he?” Allie asks.
“Nobody, he just owns the ranch.”
“Oh my!” Allie squeals. “The owner? Can we meet him?”
“Well, he’s kind of shy,” Topper says, scratching the back of his neck.
“I’m going to help get everyone’s luggage to their rooms,” Rusty says before tipping his hat to us and going back into the lodge.
“Oh, thank you!” Allie waves.
Leo slaps his sunglasses on his face like he’s filming an action movie. “Let’s go meet the owner.” He snatches Allie by the hand and she grabs my arm, tugging me with her.
My heart seizes in my chest as I wrench my arm free from Allie’s grasp. “Oh, I’m good up here.”
“No, you’re not,” Allie says with a wide grin.
“Uh, why don’t I show y’all to your rooms,” Topper says. “I’m sure you’re pretty tired.”
“Yes, please. I am tired. Thank you,” I try to glare at Allie and Leo, but they are already headed back to the lobby.
“I’m sorry about them,” I say. “They’re excited to dive into all of this.”
Topper chuckles. “I like it. C’mon, I’ll take y’all down in a golf cart.”