CHAPTER 9
I pull the truck into a vacant spot outside the only clothing shop in Sierra Valley. It’s family-owned and has been for generations, and while the stock is minimal, it has what people need to get by. If the folk need more, they order it or head into the city a couple of hours away.
A little bell over the door jingles as I push it open, the smell of something floral and airy meeting me inside. It’s quiet, but that’s expected on a Tuesday afternoon. The women’s section isn’t hard to find, but when I get there, I’m lost to it all.
I’ve never shopped for a woman. Ever.
I look down at the sizing on the piece of paper.
Size six in pants, and four in tops but a size eight in skirts and size six if it’s a button up. What the fuck? What’s the difference!?
Size seven shoes, bra size thirty-six D.
I’m staring at these numbers and letters with no clue where to even fucking start. Is it code? The fuck am I looking for?
The sea of clothing before me all looks the damn same.
“Knox?”
I turn to see Tess with a stack of folded clothing in her arms, her swollen stomach acting like a kind of shelf for her to rest them on.
“Oh thank fuck,” I sigh, “Help.”
Her brown eyes widen a touch, but then she places the stack of clothes down and tucks a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s wrong?”
We went to school together; she’s a few years younger than me and inherited this place when her mother retired a few years back. Her husband owns the only automotive garage in a fifty-mile radius around here, so the whole town knows who they are.
“I have–” I pause as I try to come up with some kind of excuse for why a woman is staying with me.
If I don’t give one, half the town will think I’m getting married by tomorrow morning.
That’s the thing about small towns; everyone knows your business.
You could tell your secrets to a wall, and someone will still find out.
“My cousin is staying. She had to, uh, leave where she was really quick, so needs some clothes.”
Tess scrunches up her face. “I didn’t know your parents had siblings?”
Shit.
“Oh yeah, Mom's side.” I lie.
Her eyes narrow in disbelief, and she tentatively takes the slip of paper from me, looking down at the sizes written there.
“And she needs everything?” Tess asks, looking around her store, “What’s her style?”
Expensive.
“Anything,” I tell her, “But yes, she needs everything.”
“Alright,” Tess begins to wander off, “You can just wait at the front.”
“Thanks,” I call to her, but she’s already disappeared in the racks of clothing. I head to the front and sit on the pink couch in front of the windows, resting my elbows on my knees. It’s the first time I’ve actually sat down and done nothing all day.
Tess repeatedly comes back and forth, placing items on the counter before she disappears to get more, and twenty minutes later, she places the last of it down and slips behind the register.
There are four piles of clothes plus a pile of underwear, a pair of cowboy boots, a hat and some sneakers.
“Is this enough?” She asks, eyes on the piles. I should imagine it’s plenty. “I got a bit of everything — some sweaters, shorts, a couple of dresses, you know?”
“It’s fine,” I grunt, trying not to think about how much it’s going to cost me.
“I’ll ring it up.”
A sweat breaks out on the back of my neck as the figure on the little outdated screen keeps going up and up and up.
“Total is one thousand two hundred fifty-three.”
My shoulders sag in defeat. “Do you do payment plans?”
I see pity flicker across her face. “I can for you, Knox.”
“I can pay five hundred bucks now.” I pull out my credit card, “I was planning an early summer sale on some of my livestock anyway after the drive in a couple weeks. I can pay the rest then?”
“Whenever you’re ready,” She smiles.
She begins to bag the items for me, and I place them down on the floor to free up space for her to pull out the card machine.
I’m pretty certain there’s enough on this card to cover five hundred today, but that’ll be this card done now until I can somehow pay it back.
The transaction goes through, and she hands the card back.
“Listen, you need anything, give me a call, okay?” She says as I bend to pluck up the bags.
“I’ll be fine,” I head out into the afternoon sun, the beams beating down on the glossy black paint of the Chevy my father used to drive back in the day.
It’s been looked after well, which is why I’ve never needed to replace it.
I shove all the bags into the passenger seat and back out onto the quiet street.
It’s twenty minutes to the ranch, thirty if I take the scenic route around the back and across, beneath the shadows of the mountains.
It’s an unmaintained dirt road, but fuck, it’s one of my favorite places to be, always has been.
In the height of summer, when the sun beams down, it turns the leaves a vibrant, almost unreal green, and a crystal-clear spring, fed by melting snow and overflow from up the mountainside gurgles through the forest.
It brings me the type of peace the ranch used to, in the middle of the night when the skies are clear, and you can hear the owls and the crickets, but the ranch hasn’t brought me anything other than debt and stress since we started losing money.
Every day, it gets harder and harder to resist the pull of selling it.
The millions I’ve been offered will pay off the debts on the land and get me a new ranch somewhere far from here.
But the history. The memories. The generations of Carters before me who worked this land will be mowed over, torn down and forgotten.
The graves of my ancestors will become unmarked; it’ll be erased from the books and become some big factory that doesn’t care about the animals, the land or the humans that work for it.
It will lose respect.
I decide to take the back road, slowing my truck to a crawl as I turn onto the unbeaten path, gravel and dust kicking up behind me, dirtying the paint and leaving dust up the sides.
By the time I pull to a stop ahead of the main house, the ranch is gearing up for the night; the horses are being placed in the stables, the goats too while the chickens remain free to roam.
I’ve no idea what to expect to find from Elena when I enter the house. Another bottle of whiskey taken from the office? Her asleep in my bed? I’ve no doubt the rules I put in place only a couple of hours ago will be ignored.
She’s a woman who has always gotten what she wants, with no limits, no rules and no restrictions.
Except when I enter, it’s empty. Judge lies on the couch, the bottle of whiskey she robbed earlier still on the table, but I hear the subtle sound of water hitting the sides of the tub down the hall.
The door is open to the bathroom, and her long, raven black hair is down, hanging over the rim of the tub. She stares blankly at the white ceiling.
“Elena?”
She turns her chin to me, looks me over and then dismisses me again.
Okay then. I turn back around and head back to the truck, grabbing the bags to bring them inside. Behind me, I can hear Chase laughing with the guys, talking about heading to town to go to the Dive.
Ignoring them since I know he’s about to come over here to invite me out too, I go back inside, shutting the door loud enough he’ll hear it and hopefully not bother.
The bags catch Judge’s attention, and he hops down to sniff around them as Elena wanders in with a towel knotted around her chest.
Water clings to her skin, making it glisten. The wound on her arm has scabbed over, but that leg catches me off guard every time I see it. It must be fucking painful, but I barely see her wince.
I don’t know how the fuck she was raised, but it must have been tough being who she is but not showing even an ounce of pain? What kind of training makes that even possible?
“What’s all that?” She asks, tickling Judge between his ears when he comes over to lick the water off her legs.
“Yours,” I can’t take my eyes off her. She seems more reserved than she was a few hours ago, quieter. “It should all fit.”
“Thank you.” She reaches into the first bag and pulls out a lacy bra and panty set, which has my cock jerking in my pants. She pulls it apart, removing the little tags that keep them attached, and pulls the underwear up her legs before she immediately drops the towel.
There it is.
“Jesus fuck!” I grunt, spinning my head so fast I get whiplash instead of a look at her naked.
Her tinkle of laughter raises the hair on my arms.
“Don’t be so prudish, cowboy, I’m sure you’ve seen a pair of tits before.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, hanging my head. She’s trying to fucking kill me off.
“Elena, you have a bedroom; use it.”
“And miss giving you a fashion show?” She scoffs, “I think not.”
I look over my shoulder at her. She’s in her underwear now, the bra pushing up her perfect tits, but then my eyes drop to her ribs, the boot print of a bruise, and my blood boils.
I’m not supposed to like this woman. This woman is part of a deal to get this ranch back, so why the fuck do I care about the obvious kick she sustained?
“Come on.” She lifts her grey eyes to me. “Sit down.”
Against my better judgement, my boots smack against the hardwood as I carry myself to the chair and lower, my knees cracking and back twinging.
She pulls out what appears to be a little white sundress with blue flowers printed on it and holds it up, her head cocked to the side.
But as she’s examining that, I’m examining her.
The flare of her hips, the dip in at the waist — her muscles are toned yet she’s soft.
I adjust in the chair and avert my eyes, willing my cock down.
Playing any of these games with her is going to lead to trouble, and I’ve had enough of that in my lifetime.