Chapter One
Diana
End of July.
“My client has made their demands. If you want to negotiate, we can set something up, but yelling at me over the phone isn’t going to get you anywhere,” I said, leaning back in my chair, darting my eyes up to the ceiling. The pain in the back of my skull hadn’t lessened since nine this morning, my stomach was growling, and I desperately needed some water.
I didn’t— no , I shouldn’t be dealing with this asshole on the phone.
Today was supposed to be an easy day.
Yoga at eight.
Get to the office by nine thirty.
Work until one.
Lunch.
Meeting at three.
Hallow ranch at four thirty for an in-person meeting with Valerie Langston.
That was my day, planned out in my color-coded pink Filofax.
Due to the lightness in my schedule, I’d been looking forward to this day for over month. Today, I would actually get to sit down and eat my lunch, savoring it instead of scarfing half of it down and throwing the rest away, going about the rest of the afternoon with a burnt tongue. I usually didn’t have time to eat. Between client meetings and court appearances, I barely had time to think about anything else other than my firm.
Silently, while studying the ceiling of my office, I channeled Emily Blunt’s character from The Devil Wears Prada.
I love my job.
I love my job.
I love my job.
As the ranch owner on the other end of the line carried on about things that didn’t matter to me or my client, I let out a soft sigh, closing my eyes. Today was Wednesday, which meant I’d written my to-do list in purple and my schedule in baby blue in ink—with sparkles. Wednesdays were usually, despite my hectic schedule, my only good day of the week. The mid-point. The halfway point. The lull.
Wednesdays were also cookie days, the one day of the week I allowed myself to eat the only food that brought me pure, unadulterated joy. I was set on eating said cookie after savoring my lunch, but from the looks of it, I might not be able to do that.
I don’t know which pissed me off more: the man on the phone insulting my client, or losing my cookie time.
“I’d like to speak to your supervisor,” the man snarled through the phone, derailing my train of thought about sweet treats.
The answer was A.
This man definitely pissed me off more, and now, he’d given me the opportunity to put him right where he belonged: in his place.
A slow, wonderful smile spread across my face as my eyes opened. Suddenly, that annoying throb in my skull lessened, as if my body was allowing me this one gift, and my craving for the sea salt chocolate chip cookie sitting on my counter disappeared.
Oh, how I was going to enjoy this gift.
The gift of verbally shoving my success up this man’s ass.
“Sir, this my law firm,” I told him sweetly. “The only boss here is me.”
He scoffed. “How can you claim to represent ranchers and small businesses when you treat us like this?”
I didn’t even stop my eyes from rolling. Victimizing was an old game, one I’d grown tired of playing. “ You mistreated my client. As previously stated, look over those terms, and if you would like to negotiate, we can set something up.”
The man huffed, calling me a bitch before ending the call, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
As I pulled my phone away from my ear, I muttered, “A basket of sunshine that cowboy is.”
Onto the next thing.
For the next hour, I forced all the other crap from my mind to focus on my meeting with my everything girl, Emma. She worked out of her three bedroom apartment in Denver and was the best investment I’d ever made for my business. She took care of my client schedule, booked court dates, managed the website, and funneled in new clients. She also helped me with keeping up with the books, making sure I had a vacation at least one a year. Without her, my firm would be in disarray. She took care of the little things so my paralegal and I could focus on the big things.
Emma, my Everything Girl.
“Things are looking good, Diana,” she assured me from her side of the Zoom call. “I have a possible new client wanting to meet with you.”
My ears perked up. I hadn’t taken on a new client in over a year. “Oh yeah?” I asked, picking up my pen.
Emma’s blue eyes shined with excitement on my screen as she pushed some of her purple hair back. “Yeah, small ranch outside of Colorado Springs.”
Music to my ears.
“Send over the questionnaire please,” I murmured as I jotted down a note.
“Already in your inbox.”
I looked back up, a smile stretching across my lips. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
Emma grinned. “Yes, but you can tell me again. I love to hear it.”
We chatted for a few more minutes, going over the next month and when we were done, she closed her tablet and leaned back in her chair.
My eyes narrowed. “What?”
She shrugged, acting nonchalant. “Just wondering when I need to book that vacation for you.”
Sighing, I reminded her, “You do understand I don’t have to vacation the same time every year, right?”
“I’ve been working for you for seven years, Diana. Not once have you not booked a vacation for late summer.”
“Well, maybe I just wait until early next summer. You know, take a regular beach vacation.”
She nodded. “You can absolutely do a beach vacation—this year. I can have you on a plane on Saturday.”
I blinked and reaching for my Filofax. “Next Saturday wouldn’t work for me, Emma. You know I have the—”
“Things can be rescheduled,” she noted.
Panic balled up in my throat. My schedule was already ironed out and colored-coded. There was no way in hell I was going to drop everything and take a vacation. Emma’s eyes scanned my face, and a second later, a soft, musical giggle escaped her.
“God, you should see your face,” she said, laughing.
My lips thinned. “Goodbye, Emma.”
She was still laughing when I ending the meeting.
I should’ve never given her that dang bonus.
I rolled my neck before closing out my documents on my desktop, grabbed my laptop, planner, and pen bag, packed my bag, and swiped my key off the hook before heading out of the office.
“Good afternoon, Diana.”
I looked over my shoulder as I locked the door to my office building to find a Hayden local, Martha Shelly, passing by, walking her dog.
“Good afternoon,” I greeted, giving her a smile as I faced her, hiking my bag over my shoulder.
Martha was born and raised here, like most of the people in Hayden. She was married to the elementary school principal. In fact, they just celebrated their thirtieth anniversary. “Oh, happy late anniversary,” I added, trying to ignore the sting as thoughts of the future, uncertainties, and doubts began to flood my mind. The internal clock ticking away inside my body seemed louder than before as I took in the state of the old woman.
She was only fifty years old and had no visible gray hairs thanks to the hairstylist we shared down at the salon. Of course, there were some fine lines and wrinkles on her face, but I’d always thought they were a sign of beauty, a life well lived.
“Thank you, dear,” she sighed as her little dog came to sniff my heels. “It seems like only yesterday we were on our honeymoon, planning to buy our home.” She paused for a moment, looking down the sidewalk, a small smile teasing her lips. “Time flies by when you’re in love.”
Her words were like an arrow piercing my heart, a direct hit.
Time didn’t just fly--it all but disappeared whenever love was involved.
I nodded when she looked back at me, studying me with her kind eyes. I knew what she was thinking, the same thoughts everyone in this town had about me.
Diana, the workaholic.
Diana, the single woman in her thirties.
When is she ever going to settle down?
When was the last time she went on a date?
Would she ever fall in love?
“Will I see you at book club on Friday?” she asked shortly after I cleared my throat and shifted my weight.
If she were anyone else, I might have told her to shove off, but she was a good person down to her core.
I shook my head, grateful for the change of subject. “No, I have some work to catch up on, but I plan on being there next month.”
We were planning on reading Rage Becomes Her by Soraya Chemaly next month, and there was no way in hell I’d been missing that.
“Right, of course,” she murmured softly, smiling at me before her eyes flicked up to my law firm sign.
Ten minutes later, I was in the front seat of my pride and joy, heading to out of town as I tried to brush off the small conversation. It was easier said than done today, and it frustrated me. My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I silently reminded myself of the facts.
I was a successful lawyer.
I made a life for myself in Hayden, Colorado.
I owned my own home and car.
I had no debt, multiple healthy savings accounts, and stock investments.
I had two employees and over fifty clients across the state.
I had a job that helped the little guys, and I was damn good at it.
“Brush it off, Diana,” I pushed out through my teeth as my chest began to ache. “What’s meant for you will find you.”
For the next three minutes, I whispered my affirmations, and with each word, the ache began to fade away.
My little red Mercedes flew down the two-lane road as my playlist softly spilled from the speakers. It was a bit of a drive out to Hallow Ranch, but I didn’t mind it. In fact, I looked forward to coming out here. Denver Langston was one of my oldest clients. I’d been working with him for over a decade now, and if not for him, I didn’t think my firm would be where it was today.
He was the first ranch owner to take a chance on me, the young, na?ve lawyer, fresh from the bar exam.
I smiled as the memory of our first meeting came to mind. He had to duck his head to come into my office, and he’d been covered in mud, his clothes drenched from the rain. He took one look at me, and asked if I was good lawyer. I nodded, and he hired me on the spot. He needed me to handle the Hallow Ranch accounts, including the sponsor contracts for Evergreen Feed for his younger brother, Mason, who was a professional bull rider. Denver also trusted me to handle the custody negotiation with his son’s mother, Cathy. That was years ago, and now, all those problems seemed to have faded away.
Turning on my blinker, I hummed as the Hallow Ranch sign came into view to my left, and I slowed the car. As soon as my tires hit the gravel, I felt a sense of peace. I took in the beauty of the long driveway, my eyes scanning over the healing mountain-side in the distance, thankful the trees were finally starting to bloom again. The grass was green, the sky blue, the clouds pure white, and the sun bright yellow.
So much color.
So much life.
So much beauty.
The main house come into view, the crisp white paint matching the clouds above, the black roof of the red barn poking out from down the hill.
My stomach fluttered, and before I could let myself ask the one question that, without fail, always came to mind the second I parked my car, I shook my head. “Nope,” I muttered, popping the “p” and grabbing my bag, opening my door and swinging my legs out. The sunlight hit my pencil skirt, finally letting me see the true color of it.
An extremely dark, rich purple.
I hummed in approval, getting out of the car and closing the door with my hip before walking across the gravel--smoothly. It’d taken me at least five years to get the hang of walking in pumps across Denver Langston’s gravel, but now, it was breeze. I didn’t even have to watch my feet anymore. As my heels hit the brick of the porch steps, I saw movement in the porch swing.
Caleb, Denver’s son, was sprawled across it, his hands behind his head, his cowboy hat covering his face.
I watched him for a moment, trying to wrap my mind around how fast the darn kid was growing. He was almost my height now. Last year, he only came up to my shoulder. Then again, his father and uncle were both six-foot-seven, and I knew by the time he started high school, he would be towering over me and his step-mom. I watched his chest rise and fall steadily, a soft snore echoing from underneath his head.
I shook my head.
Cowboys.
They’ll nap anywhere, anytime.
I turned and softly knocked on the screen door. Valerie didn’t make me wait long, the main door swinging open seconds later. Her forest green eyes brightened as her lips spread into a breathtaking smile. “Hey, girl,” she greeted.
I returned the smile. “Good afternoon, Val.”
She gestured for me to come inside, a high-pitched baby laugh filling the foyer as she shut the door behind me. I looked over into the kitchen to find Denver and Val’s baby girl, NJ, sitting in her high chair by the butcher block island. Her little mouth, chubby cheeks, and hands were covered in juice from her strawberries and blueberries. She clapped wildly at the sight of me.
“Di! Di!” she babbled as her mother laughed, heading into the kitchen. I followed, my heels hitting the old hardwoods, the sound providing me a comfort as I stared at the child.
“Every time I come out here, she gets bigger,” I muttered, reaching out to stroke one of her chubby little arms with the back of my finger.
Valerie snorted. “I know between her, Caleb, and their father, I’m always running out of food.”
My eyes met hers, jerking my thumb over my shoulder. “Since when does Cowboy Jr. take naps on the porch swing?”
Her eyes widened. “Caleb is out there?” she breathed, laughing slightly.
“Is he not supposed to be?”
NJ laughed again, only this time, because of her mother laughing first. “No. He’s supposed to be in pasture four with the rest of the cowboys.”
We both fell into a small fit of laugher, knowing Denver was going to be upset his son skipped out on work.
“To be fair,” Val said as the laughter died, “Caleb has been working really hard. He gets up with Denver and doesn’t go to bed until he’s finished his summer reading.”
I raised my brows. “You actually convinced him to do it.”
She shot me a look. “Let’s not forget what I used to do for a living. Convincing cowboys was my job.”
Valerie used to work for a pipeline, one of the shadiest in the business. She only did it because it paid well, and she needed the money to pay for her mother’s medical bills. When Valerie came to Hallow Ranch years ago, ready to convince Denver to sell his land, everything changed. The memories, both good and bad, hovered between us as the brightness in her green eyes dimmed slightly.
I cleared my throat and set my bag on the island. “Well, you have a new career now,” I said with glee. “And I’m happy to share some good news with you.”
She chewed on her thumbnail, her nerves clearly eating at her. “Yeah?” she asked tentatively.
A smile stretched across my lips as I pulled out my laptop and her file. “I spoke with the owner this morning, and they are willing to give you the keys on Monday.”
Valerie was technically a new client. I didn’t see it that way, though, because before she’d asked me to help her with this, she had become a friend. “Are you serious?” she breathed, reaching out and grabbing my arm. “Wait—so that means—”
I beamed, my entire body humming with happiness like it always did when I closed a deal. “They agreed to the terms and signed the contract this morning. You are officially a storefront owner—”
Eyes wide, Valerie squealed and jumped for me, her arms locking around my neck. “OH MY GOD!”
I stumbled back but managed to catch myself before returning her embrace, squeezing her tightly.
“Oh my God, Diana,” she breathed after a few moments, her voice cracking with emotion.
“You did it, Val,” I whispered, looking at her daughter over my shoulder, knowing that, someday, she would be able to take over Val’s floral shop, continuing the family dream.
Valerie’s mother had owned a similar floral shop in Texas for years, and Valerie grew up helping her mom, Nancy, run it. When Nancy fell ill, they had to give it up, selling it to pay for medical bills. Now, nearly two years after Nancy’s passing, Valerie would be handed the keys to start her own shop.
“Have you decided on a name yet?” I asked softly after hearingValerie sniffle, her body starting to shake.
“I’m torn,” she answered, stepping back and wiping her eyes. “God, I’m sorry for being a sap.”
I grabbed her hand, pinning her with a look. “Don’t apologize for your grief, Valerie Langston.”
She pressed her lips together, but that didn’t stop me from seeing the bottom one start to quiver. “I just want her to be proud of me,” she rasped.
“Nancy is proud of you,” I assured her, squeezing her hand. “I am too. We all are.”
My sweet friend nodded once more and looked over to her daughter. “I just want to make sure everything is perfect and set up before—”
“Take all the time you need, Val,” I cut her off gently. “There’s no rush now. You have the store. You can open it on your own time, at your own pace.”
She nodded, brushing some of her dark hair back. “I know. I just—” She cut herself off, looking to NJ. “I just wanted it up and running before her birthday.”
“That’s doable,” I told her, opening her file and grabbing her copy of the contract, handing it to her. “Also, while I’m thinking about it, when I was in Denver last week, I ran into my contractor. His schedule isn’t too full next year, and if you would like his information, I could get you his card.”
She looked at me, blinking. “You--you have a contractor?”
I nodded, completely oblivious to the look on her face. “He did my house renovations as well as my office.”
“Why did you hire a contractor when you have cowboys at your disposal?”
Oh, crap.
I bit the inside of my bottom lip, knowing I’d made a mistake. “Well…”
“Diana,” she scolded. “When did you do renovations?”
Darn.
Darn.
Darn.
I had so many cuss words on the tip of my tongue, but I withheld them, sticking to my resolution I’d made on New Years.
Valerie set the papers down beside her little one, crossed her arms, and then it was her turn to pin me with a look. Suddenly, I felt like I was in the principal’s office, getting reprimanded. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to the punch. “Denver told you to call him if you ever needed anything,” she reminded me, her mom voice taking over.
I managed to shove down the urge to wince. “Yes, I know.”
She arched one of her perfect brows. “Anything doesn’t just mean protection, Diana. It literally means anything.”
I looked to my feet, not knowing what to say. Denver had said that. Multiple times. He’d also said, again, multiple times, that I was a member of the family. This, of course, felt good, considering I wasn’t close with mine anymore.
However, I couldn’t get too close with Hallow Ranch.
For the sake of my own heart and sanity, I had to keep a reasonable distance from the cowboys— one in particular.
When I met Valerie’s green eyes again, I gave her a half-truth. “I didn’t want to bother anyone. Everyone here had so much going on last year. It seemed easier to hire out.” For added measure, I gave her a half-shrug.
Her eyes narrowed.
I smiled. “Promise.”
My friend sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah, well…don’t do it again,” she told me, smiling and pointing a finger at me.
“Considering I don’t plan on purchasing anymore property in my lifetime, I won’t be doing it again,” I replied smoothly. “Anyways, I didn’t come here for me. This meeting is about you. Did you still want me to look over your business plan?”
****
An hour later, I was sitting on the living room floor, my bare feet tucked underneath me as I gently brought NJ’s hands together, playing Patty Cake. Valerie was on the couch, legs crossed, smiling at us. NJ giggled as I began another round of the game.
“Patty cake, patty cake, baker man! Bake me a cake as fast as you can,” I sang, clapping the child’s hands together. “Roll it up! Roll it up! Throw it in the pan!”
“Di! Di! Di!” she shouted, giving me a smile that showed off her three front teeth.
“She loves you,” Valerie noted softly as I picked up a toy and handed it to NJ.
“I love her,” I said honestly, brushing some of NJ’s dark hair back. “So what’s been going on in cowboy land? Have the twins been getting up to anything stupid?”
Valerie took a deep breath, blowing it out through puffed cheeks. Then, realization hit her. “Holy crap, I forgot to tell you about Abbie.”
My head snapped up. “Abbie?”
“Yeah, she’s—”
“Abbie is back?” I gaped.
Valerie leaned forward, holding her hands up. “Wait, wait. You know about Abbie?”
I scoffed. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Val. Beau has been hung up on her for years.”
Valerie hummed. “Well, she’s back, living with Beau in a cabin—”
“The one John Langston built for Jigs?” I assumed out loud.
Her face flattened as she glared at me. “How am I supposed to have any good gossip for you if you know everything already?” she deadpanned.
Laughing, I said, “I don’t know everything. I just know about Abbie—and the cabin.”
“Well, a lot went down last month, and some of it…you know.”
The air in the room shifted then as something in my head clicked, remembering hearing about the incident at the diner. A man had gone into the diner and forced a woman to leave with him at gunpoint.
“Denver told me not to worry about that,” I said cautiously. “Are you saying that was— holy crap, was that Abbie? ”
Val nodded, bringing her hands together in her lap, her gaze falling. “It wasn’t just Abbie, Diana.”
Last month, I’d been on the other side of the state, dealing with a client. I’d been wrapped up in a week-long court case that drained every ounce of mental energy I had. When I’d gotten back into Hayden, there were whispers about what happened at the diner, and I didn’t think to question it. I assumed the Hallow Ranch cowboys were on it, and if not, then Sheriff Bowen was. There were a lot of things I knew about this ranch, good and not so good. The not so good stuff, I disregarded. It protected the town. In the eyes of the justice system, it was morally wrong. However, in the eyes of humanity, the things these cowboys did was justice-- justice our own justice system could never deliver.
“Harmony and I were with her when…when that man came into the diner.”
A chill swept down my spine, and the next thing I knew, I was on my feet, leaving NJ to her toys on her blanket and moving around the coffee table to sit beside Val. I took her hands in mine as a shadow fell over her face, her eyes refusing to meet mine. Her focus was on her daughter, and I could tell she was being pulled back into the past.
“Tell me what happened,” I demanded.
“I can’t—”
“—I’m not your lawyer right now, Val. I’m your friend. Now, tell me.” I said gently--but firmly, squeezing her hands.
As my sweet friend began telling me all the horror I’d missed in the town I’d grown to love, the gaping pit of guilt in my gut widened.