4. Val
FOUR
VAL
I stared at the small room tucked in the back corner of the wooden lodge, and a single thought raced through my brain— This is what prison feels like.
My stomach curled at the thought of living and working at Laurel Canyon.
What the fuck was I supposed to do on a cattle ranch?
Groaning, I dragged my suitcase through the threshold and flipped my backpack onto the twin bed.
Plopping myself down, the springs squeaked beneath me and poked my ass. Awesome.
Tears pricked at my eyes.
How? How have things gotten so far off track?
Agent Walsh had struck a deal with me: live and work at Laurel Canyon Ranch until my new supervisors, Agents Brown and Brown, completed my fitness for duty investigation.
That was it. Simple enough, and it sure as hell beat desk duty.
Or so I had thought. I tapped my phone to check the time.
Fifteen minutes until my first meeting with the agents, where they would provide more specifics on the ranch and my new assignment.
I scanned the screen. Nine missed calls from my mother. I chuckled to myself. Such a low number meant she was showing a good amount of restraint.
Thinking of her, I smiled. “Gloria must be busy today.”
I made a mental note to call her back before she took it upon herself to track me down. Before I left, I spared her many of the details—it was best for everyone if she thought my time outside of Chicago was training for work and nothing more.
I tried to open Instagram, and when it refused to load, I tried again. And again.
Apparently, the rural location also meant shitty cell service.
I stared at the ceiling and felt overwhelmed by the enveloping silence.
Aside from the low moos of a distant cow or a farm vehicle crunching the gravel outside the lodge, there was .
.. nothing. It unnerved me. I hated the fact that the only sounds I could hear were my own thoughts tumbling through my head.
Sick of sitting with myself, I pulled up from the bed and headed down toward Agent Dorothea Brown’s office.
The lodge itself was very Western, with animal heads on the walls, metal accents, and more wool blankets than anyone had business owning.
It had a rustic sort of charm. It was all so very Montana .
When I came to the office door, as I lifted my fist to knock, the door swung open.
My jaw followed as the enormous, brooding stranger from the bar last night sauntered out of the office.
In the daylight, he was even more devastating than I remembered, and a warm flush of desire burned through me.
His forearms were sweaty, with flecks of dirt coating them.
The muscles bunched and flexed as he shifted sideways to prevent walking into me.
Those arresting, mysterious eyes bore into me as recognition and confusion flitted over his features .
“Val Rivera. Come in,” the woman in the office ordered.
I tore my gaze from the not-such-a-stranger stranger and stepped into the office. I’d have to find out what the hell was going on and who this delicious man was.
“Please, shut the door and sit.” With a flick of her wrist, she dismissed the man, and his features turned dark as he closed the door behind me.
“Uh.” I cleared my throat to focus on the task at hand and bury the obvious flash of lust that must have been painted across my features. “Thank you.”
As I sat, Agent Brown arranged a stack of papers into a folder and swiveled her chair to face me. “Welcome.” Her smile was warm, but the lines on her tanned face showed evidence of strength and hardness beneath it.
“Thank you, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to be here at Laurel Canyon.” Lie.
“’Round here we call it Redemption. Short for Redemption Ranch. Do you know why that is, dear?”
I pressed my lips in a line and shook my head. Because everything about this place is fucking weird?
“Agent Walsh told me about you. That you’re a hardworking beat cop. He’s got his eye on you for the ATF. Is that what you want?”
I had my canned answer at the tip of my tongue. That, yes, I dreamed of being an elite agent for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. Another lie. Something about the way the woman looked at me—like she could see the bullshit about to pour out of me, stopped me from speaking.
I took a steadying breath and smoothed my palms over my thighs. I lifted my chin and spoke the truth. “I know that I am destined to be more than a police officer. I believe I would be a stellar ATF agent, and Agent Walsh assured me that the ranch is a means to that end.”
Her eyebrow crept up her forehead once again as she took me in and considered my answers. Panic licked at the base of my skull. I should have just lied to her. Told her that I had always dreamed of becoming an ATF agent so that she could sign off on the paperwork.
“You surprise me,” she said. “Most people in your position would have fed me some bullshit answer and kissed my ass.” She smiled, and it warmed her whole face. “I think Agent Walsh may have been on to something with you. Walk with me.”
Agent Brown rose and walked out the office door without waiting for me. I jumped up and quickly got into step with her as we walked through the main lodge.
“Here at the main lodge, there’s four rooms, like the one that you’re in. A kitchen”—her arms spread across toward the space—“living space, and rec rooms. The main lodge is for all of us to share and build our community. The rest of the property we have is roughly two thousand acres.”
She stopped and turned toward me. “This is a real, backbreaking, dust-on-your-nuts cattle ranch. We have chores and deadlines and protocols.”
My eyes flicked above her head and landed on a discreet security camera—one of many I had documented on my way to and from her office.
She noticed my glance and said, “I see you’ve also noticed that we aren’t just a cattle ranch. Very good.” Agent Brown continued walking.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Here at Redemption, we have agents, like my husband and me and a few others, to round out our security team. There are also people working here who are federally protected.”
“Like WITSEC?”
“Similar idea. Very different approaches. The current model for a witness under federal protection is to hole them up in a remote hotel, hoping they stay protected, until they’re ready to testify, which could take years.
Nothing is ever fast at the federal level.
Then they’re given a new life and dropped off.
Many struggle to find housing or work. Here, we provide both. ”
“I see.” I didn’t have a fucking clue what she was talking about, but my brain was whizzing in a thousand different directions. I worried the bottom of my lip with my teeth. “But I’m not an agent or a criminal.”
“You, my dear, are somewhat of a mystery. An in-between. Agent Walsh called in a favor to find you a place here. It’s the safest place in the country and it’s temporary. While you’re here, I will be assessing your fitness for duty.”
“But why grant him the favor if I don’t fit in?”
If she was stunned by my boldness in asking, she didn’t let it show. “I owe Agent Walsh the life of my husband.”
Agent Brown pushed open the back door to the lodge and the midmorning sunlight blinded me.
“Treat this as your home, for now.” Her eyes were kind as she tipped her head.
“But it’s also the home of many others. Some of the cabins on the property are occupied and considered private residences.
The barns, stables, and the other outbuildings are fair game for exploring. ”
“That’s it? Just . . . explore?”
She only smirked. “Welcome to Montana, Ms. Rivera. You’ll get a list of chores in the morning.
” Her tone turned dark and foreboding. “If you leak the identity of any agents or witnesses living and working at the ranch or generally cannot be trusted, you’re gone and will face federal charges of obstruction of justice. No exceptions. No second chances.”
The harshness in her tone iced my veins. She wasn’t fucking around. My voice felt tight. “Yes, ma’am.”
With a hearty laugh, she smacked me hard on the back and smiled. “Ah. You can call me Ma Brown. Evan started that some months ago, and it’s stuck.” She shrugged, any evidence of her previously stern demeanor gone. “I kind of like it. Now go off and explore. Your duties officially start tomorrow.”
Without another goodbye, the lodge door was closed behind me.
The gravel crunched under my canvas sneakers as I walked the driveway to get my bearings.
Laurel Cany—no. Redemption Ranch. It was a bustling, dynamic cattle ranch.
Even knowing there was more to it, it was difficult to see anything other than the farm operations.
Trucks and farm vehicles were hard at work, and as each passed me, the driver would offer a wave or a tip of the hat.
The general friendliness was significantly improved from the townspeople of last night.
The sounds of cattle caught my attention as I walked up to a wired fence.
Hundreds of cattle spread across the valley and dotted the grassland.
I turned in a slow circle to scan the expansive property that surrounded me.
Several buildings dotted the pastures ahead: a large red barn with peeling paint, a stable, small stone buildings with cedar shake roofs that I assumed were the cabins.
When I turned my back to the pasture, the lodge was enormous, but the wood and earth tones blended perfectly with the landscape around it.
To the left, a path of gravel wound through a copse of trees and around a small lake.
The dock jutted out into the water and reminded me of skipping rocks with my grandfather.
Beside the lodge was a large, neat garden.
The smell of nature and hay and animals hung in the air.
A bubble of laughter rose in my chest. A city girl from Chicago.
A cop. Expected to work and live on a cattle ranch in Montana.
A ranch full of criminals. The sheer absurdity of it had laughter ripping from my midsection and tears streaming down my face.
I swiped the tears and tilted my face to the warming sun.
I wasn’t afraid of a challenge. Hard work didn’t scare me.
No.
The only thing that caused a ripple of fear to dance through me was the unexpected encounter with him . I had a thousand questions. Was he an agent? A witness? A worker here?
I closed my eyes as the sun warmed my face and dried my tear-stained cheeks. Sunny warmth spread through me. I could do this. A few months, tops, and I would be back in my beloved Chicago. Hopefully, I’d even be starting my new life in the ATF.
Just a few months and nothing more.