Chapter 29
aria
Iignore my phone. Let it buzz like a gnat in the distance.
Speaking of gnats. I don’t want to talk to Maverick.
Not now. Not ever.
“I don’t think she’s goin’ to succeed.”
His words won’t stop echoing in my head, a sharp-edged blade slicing through everything I thought we were building.
I refuse to cry. I’ve cried enough over men who say one thing and mean another.
I went to Kincaid Farms to borrow a set of halters and sorting flags.
Ours had been chewed up, frayed to hell, or flat-out lost over the years.
We used to take pride in the condition of our gear.
Daddy used to have everything labeled and organized—like he was running a damn showroom.
But now we look held together by stubbornness and duct tape.
I thought borrowing from Maverick was a step toward partnership. Not dependence but trust.
Instead, I came back empty-handed and gut-punched.
Because I parked behind the greenhouse.
Because I went looking for Zane.
And because I heard Maverick’s voice, slow and easy, and Celine’s, syrupy and venomous.
And what I heard…God, what I heard—
“I’m doing what I said I’d do. Watching her fail. And when she does, I’ll be there to buy Longhorn, just like we planned.”
I can’t imagine a version of Maverick that said those words, but he did. I heard him. I didn’t misunderstand a damn thing.
And now, I don’t know how to superimpose that man with the one who held me like I mattered. Who kissed me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.
Pain is plaguing my insides. I can feel a migraine coming, but I’ve already taken pills to keep that at bay. Nothing will stop me from succeeding. I’m going to show Maverick and Celine what I’m made of.
I’m angry and hurt. I feel out of control. So, I do the only thing I can.
I hammer.
“Aria, I think you’ve slammed that nail in real good.” Tomas catches my wrist before I can hit the fresh board again.
We’re reinforcing the trailer gate. One of the slats had worked loose, and the last thing I need is a steer kicking free and bolting in front of a truck on Highway 50.
I blink down at the hammer, my palm aching.
“Yeah. Yeah. Okay,” I mutter, pulling back.
“You seen Wes?” I ask, since I haven’t seen my ranch hand in a while.
Tomas shakes his head. “Not since this morning. Said he was checking perimeter fencing. Didn’t come back for lunch.”
“He better show up sooner than later.”
I head toward the supply crate and start checking everything again, even though I know it’s already been done.
Halters. Grooming brushes. Spare ropes.
I need them to be perfect because I’m unraveling. And, maybe, if the gear’s in order, I can fake it for one more day.
“We got a man missin’, and my head’s not in the game,” I mutter to myself.
“What?” Tomas asks, brows raised.
He can see I’m upset, and since I’m usually calm as a fucking lake, he’s wondering what could have happened.
Well, buddy, all my nightmares came true.
I fell in love…again.
With another fuckin’ liar.
Another man who wants what I have but not me.
Maverick Kincaid is just like Hudson. Just like Celine. Only worse because I let myself believe he was different.
He held Celine. I saw. His hands were on her waist. She had hers looped around his neck. They looked real cozy.
Anger flares hot, anew, behind my ribs. “You double-checked the vet supplies?” I ask, too sharply.
Tomas doesn’t flinch. “First aid, vaccination records, boluses, mineral drench. Everything’s road-ready, boss.”
I nod, trying not to break down in front of him. I won’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart. Especially not now. Not the day before Gunnison.
“You okay?” Tomas asks, his concern palpable.
“I’m fine.” I lie so hard it makes my teeth ache.
Tomas doesn’t call me on it. He just tips his head and lets me walk away.
I circle the trailers one last time. There’s a breeze coming down off the mesa, and the sun is lower now, gold bleeding into blue.
We have forty-five head tagged, brushed, and sorted by weight.
Tomorrow, we’ll roll into Gunnison at dawn.
If we sell well, which we damn well better, we pay off the taxes and have enough to build. We can get through the summer.
We keep Longhorn.
I get another season.
And maybe that’s all life is—one season at a time.
I reach the paddock gate and rest my hands on the top rail, breathing in the quiet.
There was a time when I was fourteen or fifteen, that I’d stand in this exact spot and believe I’d grow old here. I’d raise horses. Plant more apricots. Get married and have kids running around in boots and dusty jeans.
And then everything broke.
But I’m not that girl anymore. I’m a woman who’s walked through fire and didn’t burn down.
I won’t run again.
I won’t let him or anyone take this from me.
I’ll sell this herd. I’ll save this ranch.
And Maverick Kincaid can go fuck himself.