Chapter 23
aria
Ifeel like a heroine in a romcom movie.
I’m in a relationship with Maverick Kincaid!
Last night he called me to say goodnight.
This morning, I got a text message from him: Good morning, beautiful.
And now, I’m smiling like a fool as the afternoon sun stretches thin over the alfalfa fields like butter on hot toast.
It’s cool enough to be comfortable, warm enough to shed my jacket.
Nadine and I walk the furrows side by side, boots crunching on the drying earth, scanning the young stand for signs of stress or creeping weeds.
April is critical when growing alfalfa. Everything we do now determines whether we get a good first cutting come June.
Nadine’s wearing her usual: long-sleeve plaid shirt rolled to the elbows, wide-brimmed straw hat, and gloves that have seen more seasons than some of our apple trees.
“How’s it lookin’?” I ask.
“Not bad,” she replies. “Some yellowin’ near the low spots. We’ll need to fix that. But the stand’s coming in even. If we keep on schedule, this’ll be the best crop since 2017.”
I smile.
It’s good to hear that something’s going right.
Tomas is further up the row, on his knees, inspecting root development and calling out notes to Wes, who’s recording them on a clipboard.
I’ve started relying on that man more than I care to admit.
He’s sharp, fast, and respectful. Even Earl’s taken to him in a way that surprises all of us. For a man who grunts responses, he actually smiles around Wes.
Yesterday, I saw them working the fence line. Wes was swapping out a section of old barbed wire, and every now and then, I’d hear Earl curse and Wes laugh like he’s been at Longhorn forever.
Nadine leans on her hoe and wipes her brow with a bandana. “You’re smiling.”
“The farm looks good. No reason not to smile.”
“You’re smiling like a woman who’s thinking about a man, not alfalfa.”
I pretend to focus on the work at hand, but since I can’t keep my lips from twitching up, I give in. “Guilty.”
Nadine grumbles. “Hmph. Saw that comin’ from miles away. He’s been sniffin’ around here like a wolf with manners.”
“He’s been…kind.”
“And…he’s hot as sin,” she deadpans.
“Nadine!”
She chuckles. “I may be old, but I’m not blind. Man’s a damn movie poster.”
I duck my head, cheeks warm. “He’s showin’ up. No one has done that for me in a long time.”
Nadine’s face softens, her eyes creasing maternally. “Since Hudson?”
I nod.
“First time your heart’s all in again?”
I shake my head. It’s a defensive gesture. “Maverick and I barely know each other.”
But it’s already too late ‘cause I am indeed all in.
“But what you do know, you like?” she asks.
I hesitate before responding. “He…believed Celine about me, and in the beginning, he said some things. Harsh things.”
Nadine raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to finish.
“What if he believes someone else? He says it was before he knew me, but…I don’t want to compete with Celine.”
“’Cause you lost Hudson?”
“’Cause I don’t want to have to compete for a man.”
Nadine straightens the hoe as the wind combs through the field gently.
“I think he slept with her,” I blurt out.
Nadine frowns. “When?”
“I…don’t know. He says they didn’t, but….”
She doesn’t say anything for a second, just watches a hawk wheel in the sky.
“It’s understandable you’re scared. Loving someone’s not for cowards.
But, Aria, Mav doesn’t lie. I can tell you that as sure as spring follows winter out here, every damn time.
But say he did have somethin’ with Celine, he ain’t anymore, is he? ”
I look at the promise of a successful future for Longhorn, hay lush and green stretched in every direction. “Celine always wins, Nadine. I know that as sure as I know a horse’ll buck if the saddle ain’t right.”
“Rami regretted what he did.”
“He never tried to make it right.”
Nadine huffs out a sharp breath. “Your father had too much pride. All you Delgados do.”
“I’m not being proud, Nadine, I’m trying to survive the best I can.”
She pats my shoulder. “I know…but while you’re struggling to survive, don’t forget to live ‘cause no joke, life is short, Aria.”
“I am livin’,” I protest with a pout. “I’m havin’ lunch with Maverick in an hour.”
Nadine grins. “Wonder what he’s gonna eat.”
I slap her shoulder. “You’re so bad!”
Before Nadine can respond, Earl comes riding.
Something is wrong. I can feel it.
“What happened?”
“They’re here.” His face is pale. “The certifiers. Surprise organic audit.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “Damn it.”
We all trudge to the ranch house where two SUVs are parked. Three people are standing by it. My guess, two from the certification agency and one USDA liaison. As they say in these parts of the world, this isn’t my first rodeo.
The vineyard at Knight’s Tale was also certified organic, and we had our share of surprise inspections.
“Morning.” I put on a mask of calm, hiding my nerves. “I’m Aria Delgado. Ranch co-owner and manager.”
The lead inspector, a lean woman with short gray hair and mirrored sunglasses, gives me a short nod.
“Gemma Bishop. We’re conducting an unannounced inspection of your organic operations under the National Organic Program.
We’ll need full access to your storage areas, feed inventory, records, and greenhouse systems.”
“Of course,” I say smoothly. “I’ll walk with you.”
I lead them across the yard, pointing out the feed lots, the cattle rotation plan, and the south pasture where we’ve just begun spring grazing. I walk them through our soil amendment logs, show them the mineral blocks, and explain our fly control practices.
Everything’s logged, tagged, and in compliance.
I’m starting to relax.
So far, everything’s by the book.
We head toward the older storage shed by the equipment barn—the one we rarely use.
One of the inspectors lags behind a moment, then calls out, “Ma’am?”
I turn.
“We’ve found something.”
What does he mean by something?
I’m already moving.
I had such hopes for today, and now the day has turned electric with panic.
The inspector is holding something in a clear zip bag.
I stop cold.
It’s a plastic container. Faded label. Bright red lid.
My stomach drops.
“What is that?” I ask, stepping up to him, though I already know.
The inspector looks at me, stern-faced. “This was discovered in a locked cabinet in your south equipment shed. It’s a synthetic pesticide. Non-organic. Not on your disclosures.”
“I’ve never seen that before.” Outwardly, I’m exuding serenity as if this happens all the time, but inside I’m freaking the fuck out. “We don’t use that. We’ve never stored chemicals like that—especially not near certified operations.”
The inspector’s expression shows his irritation. “You’re saying you didn’t know it was here?”
“I know it shouldn’t be here, and it wasn’t there when I last checked, which was just a week ago.”
None of the inspectors says a thing. They just keep taking notes.
Maverick’s truck pulls up, kicking up dust.
He climbs out and takes one look at my face, then the inspectors, and strides toward us.
“Hey, darlin’. How’s it goin’?” he asks. There’s a quiet, dangerous edge to him that I’m starting to learn.
I point to the container. “They…found that in our storage. Something I’ve never bought or used.”
Maverick frowns, leans in to look. “That’s a banned Class 2 pesticide. Gemma, there’s no way Aria would be careless enough to keep that near an organic lot.”
Of course, he knows all these people. He’s one of the wealthiest ranchers in Wildflower Canyon; they all probably pay homage to him.
Gemma purses her lips and shakes her head.
“I need to know who had access to that shed,” the inspector who found the pesticide interjects.
“Well…all of us,” I say.
“Who’s all of you?” the inspector quips.
“The people who work here, Chad,” Maverick cuts in before I can speak.
Chad makes a face.
“Anyone go in there recently? I was there last week and didn’t see that,” Earl demands bluntly, looking at all of us.
“I did,” Tomas admits. “To get a spare part for the baler yesterday. I didn’t notice anything unusual.”
I believe him, I do. But my gut is crawling.
I look at Wes and Nadine. They shake their heads, concern etched on their faces.
“We’ll be pulling your last two months of compliance logs,” Gemma informs us. “And we’re placing your file under formal review. If we find residues or evidence of misreporting, your organic status will be suspended, pending full investigation.”
“Okay.” My voice sounds thin, even to me.
“I’ll need to see your input records, storage logs, supply chain sources, and product certifications,” Gemma pushes.
Nadine steps forward. “This ain’t right. Aria runs a clean ranch. That shed’s locked for a reason.”
“And y’all have keys,” Gemma retorts.
I’m about to say something when Maverick pulls me aside, hand resting firm on my shoulder. “Let me figure this out, yeah.”
“We didn’t put that there.”
“I got this. Trust me?”
I look at him. Nod once. I do trust him.
He brushes his lips against my forehead. “Good girl.”
We leave Maverick with the inspectors and go to the ranch house, like children who’ve been given a time-out.
It’s lunch time, but we’re all a little shell-shocked as Vera takes care of us, feeding us roast chicken sandwiches that no one feels like eating.
I’d asked her to put a picnic basket together for Maverick and me, but that was before we were going to lose our organic status. That will kill our sales, which we desperately need.
“This wasn’t an accident,” Earl mutters. “Someone planted that.”
“I think someone wants you disqualified before Gunnison. And they’re getting bolder,” Nadine adds.
“People start thinking the cattle are being fed non-organic hay…,” I trail off, feeling a migraine coming on.
Maverick comes inside after fifteen minutes. He looks at all of us, smirks. “Why the long faces?”
I’m not in the mood for it. “We’re going to lose the whole damn certification if this sticks, Maverick. That’ll tank the premium we get at the sale—and if they wonder if the cattle were being fed non-organic hay…we’ll be bottom of the barrel.”
He crouches in front of me. “You’re not losing your certification.”
I look at him perturbed.
“I talked to Gemma. She’s going to clear you.”
“What?”
Everyone starts asking questions at once.
Maverick just looks at me, takes my hand in his, and kisses it.
Then, he takes a seat next to me and drinks down my iced tea.
“They got a call this morning, saying that you have pesticides in your storage closet, the locked one,” he tells us.
“What the fuck?” Earl growls.
Tomas shakes his head. “That’s loco.”
Maverick nods. “Yeah. So, she comes and there it is. She told me that they were all suspicious…not about you, Aria, but the call.”
My shoulders sag. “Someone did this on purpose?”
I guessed that was how it went down, but knowing it and thinking it are two different things.
Someone’s out to sabotage me. That much is obvious.
I know who it is.
I had wondered when Celine seemed so eager to work with me, sell the land to Maverick, and allow me to put the investment back into Longhorn.
Now I knew why.
Vera places a plate of sandwiches in front of Maverick.
Everyone digs in, except me. I can’t eat. Everyone is laughing and talking. Relieved. My nerves are knotted.
Maverick turns, glances at me, smiles.
I smile back, but it’s hollow.
My knight in shining armor saved me again. I feel bitter about it. And a small kernel of doubt begins to weave inside of me.
Could Maverick be involved?
My whole psyche violently rejects that idea. No way. This is Celine with or without Hudson.
What I thought was bad luck with the fence and the feed…all of that was on purpose.
This is guerrilla warfare—and my sister is fighting dirty.