Chapter 16
sarah
The last “party” I went to was at a vet conference in San Francisco. Maybe calling it a party would be an exaggeration, as it was mostly clinical lighting and people networking over stale coffee.
I haven’t been to a proper party in years.
After I left Wildflower Canyon, I couldn’t stand being around people. Crowds made my skin crawl. Even small gatherings felt like ambushes waiting to happen. It took years—and more therapy than I care to admit—before I could set foot in a room full of strangers without wanting to bolt.
Slowly, I got better. But honestly, it’s my profession that saved me. Being a vet means I spend more time with animals than humans, and that suits me just fine. Animals don’t judge. They don’t whisper lies behind your back. Humans will turn on you, but animals you can trust.
“Can I get you a drink?” Mav asks.
I shake my head.
“How about a mocktail? Bailey, our bartender from Blackwood Prime, makes excellent ones.”
Blackwood Prime is Mav’s steakhouse, and just like how luxurious that place is, so is his party. After all, Maverick Kincaid doesn’t do anything halfway.
His “casual” BBQ can feed a small army.
Smoke drifts across the wide lawn of Kincaid Farms, carrying the scent of mesquite-grilled steaks and slow-cooked brisket.
Long picnic tables are set up under strings of lights, kids chasing each other through the grass while ranch hands pile plates high.
A local band is tuning up near the barn, ready to crank out some old Johnny Cash and Hank Williams.
For a moment, I feel like I’ve stepped into a life that doesn’t belong to me but to the girl who left Wildflower Canyon in shame and pain.
The chatter is easy, the laughter rolls like summer thunder, and nobody here seems haunted by the past.
Before I can tell Mav that a mocktail would be alright, Joy’s voice breaks through. “Sarah.” She’s carrying two mason jars, one of them fizzing bright with citrus and mint. “You’re not hiding, are you? Because I’ll drag you out to dance if I have to.”
I manage a smile, taking the drink she offers.
“Bailey made you what she calls Virgin Merry.”
“Thank you.”
Cold condensation beads against my fingers as I take a sip.
The sweetness of muddled berries and lime hits my tongue.
It’s sharp and refreshing. A splash of alcohol might loosen the knots coiled tight inside me, but with just about everybody in Wildflower Canyon here, it’s also the reason I won’t touch a drop.
“This is delicious.”
Mav nods at Joy as if silently saying, “You take over now,” before he heads back to the grill, where Aria is talking to Elena.
But there are outsiders too—the kind that don’t belong in dust and denim.
Some woman dressed in designer duds is all over Cade. He doesn’t seem interested. But I could be wrong.
There is Senator Otis Jessup and his ultra-botoxed wife, whose name I don’t remember. She’s wearing a dress that probably costs more than most ranch trucks.
I watch as Cade slips out of the circle of the wealthy—the ones who wear money like a badge and make sure everyone sees it. He walks toward Mav, who’s just as rich, maybe richer, but never feels the need to flaunt it.
I stroll past some people who ignore me. Locals. To them, I’m still the Jezebel who seduced Cade’s brother while I had Cade wrapped around my little finger.
Hardly!
I don’t have to strain to hear Cade’s voice when he corners Maverick by the smoker.
“What the hell are they doing here?”
“They?” Mav asks lazily as he brings his beer bottle close to his mouth. He takes a long pull.
“Madison and that snake Jessup.”
Mav shrugs, unbothered. “I play politics, Cade, so politics don’t play me.” His tone is flat steel.
“You know what they want,” Cade remarks, his hands in his pockets.
At thirty, he’s almost a decade younger than Mav, and it shows.
Mav is patient, while Cade is fire and passion. He looks up to Mav but also seems to like challenging him. I know that Mav helps Cade and vice versa—but I get the feeling that Mav is the adult in the relationship.
I stay where I am, in the shadows, hidden.
It gives me the opportunity to look around without worrying about someone saying something rude to me. I just don’t have the bandwidth for it.
It’s been a trying week—Cade’s silent sneers hitting me like shards of glass I can’t dodge while I’ve been caring for Bandit and letting Evie visit.
He doesn’t let her go into my house when she comes. And she’s only allowed to play with Bandit in the yard. She doesn’t notice the iciness between us—we both pretend we’re just acquaintances.
But seeing him every day has taken its toll on me. But for the fact that I knew Joy would’ve dragged me feet-first to the barbecue, I’d have stayed home.
But now Bandit has moved in with Evie, so I don’t have to endure Cade’s presence on a regular basis.
Noelle, who is in a sundress that’s too short for decency, brushes up against her boyfriend.
Watching him with another woman is like a boot to the ribs.
When I found out he had married Jeanine, knowing she had what I once thought was mine, well, that was salt on my deep and open wounds.
We were supposed to be a couple. Evie was supposed to be ours. That dream died when Cade chose blood over love, believed his brother instead of me—but the longing never did. It lingers still, no matter how unhealthy.
Noelle drags Cade away from Mav and closer to me. I move and stand in the shadow of a tree, hiding like a crazy stalker person.
“I just spoke with Madison,” Noelle tells Cade. She’s excited about something.
Who’s Madison? The senator’s wife? Or that woman in all those designer clothes?
I’m not a regular eavesdropper, but if the conversation drops in my lap, like now, I don’t close my ears to it.
Cade pushes her hand off his arm.
Trouble in paradise?
“Good for you. I don’t want to have anything to do with that woman.”
“She says she’ll buy Dunn Ranch if you sell yours. The money they’re talking…Cade, it can change lives.”
Sell his ranch?
What the heck was this woman smoking? Didn’t she know Cade at all? He’d rather cut his arm off than sell Blue Rock.
“Cade, think about it, please. Imagine not having to work sunup to sundown—”
“Since I’m the one doin’ the work, and so is your Daddy, it’s not up to you to talk about Dunn Ranch or mine.” Cade’s tone is clipped. It sounds like they’ve had this conversation once or twice before.
Before Noelle can say a thing, Lyle Dunn walks up to them, calling his daughter’s name out. His movements are tight. He’s angry.
“You have some nerve, Noelle. Until I’m dead—and I’ve got some years on me—Dunn Ranch is not yours, so don’t you go around talking to that son of a bitch senator about selling what’s mine.”
He’s all but vibrating.
Noelle nestles against Cade, looking like a little girl.
Christ!
“Daddy,” she whines. “It’s just so much money and—”
Her father shakes his head, cutting her off. “That’s not ranching, Noelle, that’s cashin’ out.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” There’s a screech in her voice, like nails on a chalkboard.
His voice carries, and I notice the nods from nearby ranchers.
A divide has been drawn, clear as day: those who live off the land, and those who live for it.
I retreat to the edge of the garden, where a small seating area overlooks the mountains.
I’ve lived in both Colorado and California, surrounded by nature’s beauty, but this view still makes me pause.
I rest my hip against the railing and take in the expanse before me, a sight I know I’ll never grow tired of.
“Hell of a party, huh?”
Kaz Chase walks up to me, hands in his pockets, watching me with that half-smile he wears like a uniform.
“Hell being the operative word.” I tilt my head and give the crowd that we’re away from a thoughtful look. “Wildflower Canyon’s small, but it sure can fill a yard.”
“Yeah.” He studies me for a beat. “Funny thing about crowds—they’re a lot like cattle—push from the right angle, and they move where you want.”
I side-eye him. “And which way are you trying to move them, Kaz?”
He chuckles low. “Now that would be telling.”
“I hear you’re real cozy with Senator Jessup and all in on converting Wildflower Canyon into a golf course.”
His gaze hardens, the blue burning away whatever amusement lingered there. “Is that really what you think?”
I shrug. “It’s what I hear around town. You made a lot of money, and no one knows—”
“I started a tech company and sold it,” he interrupts me. “No mystery there.”
I nod once. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m being bitchy with you.”
“Maybe that’s why?” He jerks his chin toward Cade and Noelle. They look like they’re having a heated discussion.
I want to laugh and wave him off, but it catches in my throat.
It’s a lie, and I know it, and he knows it.
“Good thing Landon didn’t make it, right? Otherwise, you’d have skedaddled, I assume.”
At the mention of Landon, I turn away from Kaz and wrap my arms around myself.
I’m hurt. Joy and Aria know the truth, and yet Mav was comfortable inviting a rapist over.
It’s how the world works, isn’t it? Your morals are constantly at war with survival.
“When Aria found out that he did,” he continued almost gleefully, “she ripped him a new one, according to Bree.”
I smile at that. “I’m that obvious, huh?”
“Actually, you’re not. You have one hell of a poker face, but I read people for a living.” He leans in, his face close to mine. “Heard you had a chat with Marnie Evans.”
My pulse stutters. I take a step back from him. “Who?”
He huffs out a snort. “Like I said. Poker face. Anyone else would think you really don’t know who Marnie is.”
Is he on a first-name basis with the journalist? Or is he just fucking with me?
I hold his gaze and reveal nothing.
I don’t know Kaz well. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anyone. I trusted Joy and Aria, and now I find that Joy’s brother and Aria’s fiancé would have happily broken bread with Landon.