Redemption in Misty Mountain
1. Rosalie
CHAPTER 1
ROSALIE
“Hey, sugar. It’s me, your favorite anonymous podcaster, here to give you the lowdown on who’s doing what—or let’s be real, who—in Sagebrush Creek. Grab your boots, ‘cause it’s time to get bitching and I’ve got more than enough sweet tea to spill today.
You didn’t hear it from me. But the word around Kingridge Ranch is there’s a holy bun in the oven, and that little one just might be another in line for the Kingridge throne. Seems like those cowboys went from hard up to getting busy with half the town. Let’s see if any of the brothers want to own up to it before I go sharing the name…
Meanwhile, over at Sow Much ? —”
“The podcast again?”
“Aaah—” I yank out my earbuds, nearly dropping my phone as I spin around to find my boss hovering in the doorway.
Ella laughs and crosses her arms. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I can hear that shrill Texas accent from here.”
I press a hand to my chest, willing my pulse to slow. “You scared the hell out of me! The Boots and Bitching is basically a community service at this point. If I’m about to live my cowboy ranch dreams, I need to know what kind of mess I’m walking into.” I tilt my head. “Small-town Texas is something else. Shouldn’t you be gone already? I thought I was the last one at the inn.”
Ella shakes her head, amused. “You sound like Maggie. She’s already blowing up my phone, telling me to get home before the storm hits. Even old Hank up the road has The Rusty Elk Tavern closed up already. But this place is?—”
“Your baby, I know.” I flash her a knowing look. “But trust me, I’ve got it handled. Cancellation notices went out and everything’s locked up. I’m just making sure this place is spotless before I leave. The storm will pass and you’ll come back without having to worry about anything.”
Ella exhales and her expression softens “And that’s why I’m going to miss you.”
I shrug. “I’m pretty irreplaceable.”
“That you are.” She pulls on her coat, eyeing the door. “But I mean it. The roads are getting bad. Don’t wait too long to head out.”
I nod. “Yeah, yeah. I know better than to mess with Colorado weather.”
Ella gives me a final look before stepping out into the cold.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I slip my earbuds back in and press play.
An hour later, I’m knee-deep in organization hell. I’ve emptied every desk drawer, created a disaster zone, and promptly run out of momentum to clean it up. The podcast cuts off, and suddenly, the Hollow Tree Inn is too quiet.
A situation like this would normally creep me out. When you grow up with hellfire and brimstone, you learn a few things early. Ghosts? Real. The dark? Terrifying. And women who stick around in an empty inn with a snowstorm rolling in? They don’t make it past the opening credits.
The silence settles deep in my bones and makes everything feel heavier. I glance around the empty lobby. The familiar creak of the floorboards under my feet is a reminder that this is my last shift. And somehow, that doesn’t seem real.
When I came back to Misty Mountain, everything felt different. It was like stepping into an old life that didn’t fit anymore. But Dad got sick. Mom had been gone for two years, and someone had to come back. There were only two options, Maisie or me.
The choice was obvious.
I was the one who had already broken free and shed the weight of our suffocating religious upbringing. In the span of five years, I’d gotten married and divorced to a man who stole my heart. We shined bright and burned out just as quickly. I’d lived on a cruise ship, backpacked through Europe, and of course, spent a summer on Kingridge Ranch in Texas. It’s where I got my hands dirty in more ways than one. And where my obsession with Boots and Bitching started.
Maisie, on the other hand, had only just escaped. She was just starting to imagine a life of her own. The older sister in me couldn’t ask her to throw it all away. So, before she even knew what was happening, I packed my bags and came back to Colorado. What was supposed to be a temporary sacrifice stretched into a year and a half.
I won’t lie. I resented it at first. Coming back felt like a life sentence with no end date. Like stepping into quicksand and watching the world move on without me. But then, Dad left faster than any of us expected. And in a town where nothing ever seems to change, my whole world shifted in an instant.
Now I watch the snow settle over the trees, the mountains standing quiet and unshaken. Two truths hit me in the silence. This place will always feel like home. And there’s nothing left for me here.
But none of that matters now. In two weeks, everything changes again. I’ll be back at Kingridge Ranch—this time with Maisie. She traded snowy mountains for open skies and professional athletes for ranchers, and maybe it’s time I do the same. Maybe this time, I’ll stay long enough to get a cat. Or at least a houseplant.
Buzz. Buzz.
The vibration in my pocket jolts me back to the present. I fish out my phone, glancing at the caller ID before pressing it to my ear. “Hey, I was just thinking about you out there with all those cowboys. How’s ranch life treating you?”
Maisie’s voice crackles with excitement. “Wild, Rosalie. You need to listen to the podcast. The Southern Knights football team came through, and the Kingridge guys lost their minds.”
I chuckle, already picturing the chaos. “I’m ready for the full recap. I’ve got a whole office to put back together.”
As Maisie launches into a breathless retelling, I get to work, letting her words wrap around me like a story I’ll be stepping into soon. Her laughter is contagious, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like things are falling into place.
Then I hear it. Boom. Boom. Boom. Three sharp knocks at the inn’s front door make my stomach drop.
“Maisie, I have to call you back.”
Boom. Boom.
Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I move cautiously toward the entrance. My pulse pounds in my ears. A guest arriving late? Is it someone who can’t see the obvious snowstorm rolling in? A delivery? Or something else entirely? I scan the room for a weapon. Fire poker? Kitchen knife? No, I’m being ridiculous. But then again… maybe I’m not.
In a last-minute decision, I pick up a small, cast iron frying pan as I pass through the kitchen… Just in case I have to go Rapunzel on someone.
My pulse pounds against my ribs as I grasp the doorknob, the cold metal biting into my palm. One deep breath. Then another. I tell myself it’s just some stranded traveler, someone who didn’t check the weather report before heading up the mountain. Nothing more. I’ve got to get out of my own head. I twist the knob and pull.
The storm howls outside, a rush of icy air curling around my ankles, but it’s nothing compared to the chill that races down my spine when I see who’s standing on the other side. My jaw falls open.
It’s Dawson. I blink a few times to make sure I’m not actually insane. But he’s still here. Dawson is broader now. His shoulders are cut with strength and age. His presence is commanding even in silence. But there’s no mistaking that it’s him. It doesn’t feel real. How? Why? What the hell is he doing here?
The ground shifts beneath my feet. Time stretches and snaps, twisting around me like a rubber band about to break. My body remembers him before my mind can even catch up—before it can summon the walls I spent years building brick by brick.
I see flashes of a life I’ve worked hard to forget. My first kiss. Our first reckless night together. The way he made me feel beautiful for the first time in my life. My heart slams in my chest, it's racing one million miles per minute.
Dawson’s jaw is dusted with scruff that sharpens the angles that were always devastating. His deep-set eyes lock on mine. They gleam with that same streak of rebellion that once made me lose myself until there was no going back.
“Are you going to let me in?” His voice is a grumble. The snow clings to his dark hair and then melts against the heat of his skin and drips from the line of his heavy coat. “Or are you gonna hit me with that frying pan.” He lets out a smug chuckle.
The sound of his laugh sends a flurry of rage tingling through me. I take a half step away from the door, because what else can I do? He steps into the inn and just like that, the past shoves its way between us… bold and completely uninvited.
Infuriatingly, Dawson Stone is still the most handsome man in any room. Apparently, he’s still the one who can steal my breath without trying. But he’s also the man who made me believe in forever only to prove I was nothing more than an afterthought.
He’s the man I begged to love me and the one I had no choice but to leave. He’s the other half of the divorce that forced me into putting myself first and now he’s standing in front of me and I think I might be sick.
I let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. His timing is unbelievable. I’m finally ready to move to a place where I can lay down roots. I’m at peace in my life, or at least I’m about to be… And now this. A thousand thoughts flicker through my mind, tangled and sharp. But only one finds its way past my lips as I shove the door closed.
“Perfect.”