Chapter 6
MORGAN
It had been two days since I’d jumped into a hole in the ice in Lake Bliss, and I still felt chilled to the bone.
Even though I’d had a cup of coffee before I left home, the Merc looked too good to pass by this morning.
The warm light filtering through the front window called to me, and I pulled into a spot right in front.
I could be a few minutes late to work. Coffee wasn’t just a craving this morning. It was triage.
The scent of sugar, dark roast, and something buttery greeted me as I entered. A bell chimed softly behind me as the door swung shut, and a few heads turned to see who had come in from the cold. Folks in Mustang Mountain didn’t stare outright but they noticed everything.
Ruby stood behind the back counter, her sleeves rolled up, hair pinned back, eyes sharp as she jotted something down on a notebook. She looked up as I approached and gave me a knowing smile.
“Well,” she said, setting the pen aside. “If it isn’t the woman everyone’s pretending not to talk about.”
I paused mid-step. “Good morning to you too.”
She poured coffee without asking and slid the mug across the counter. “You look cold.”
“I am.” The heat from the mug warmed my fingers as wrapped my hands around it. “I’m pretty sure jumping into that lake ruined me. Or maybe I’ve been spending too much time out on the ridge.”
“With Slade.” Ruby’s eyes sparkled.
I took a quick sip of coffee before I answered. “Yes.”
She hummed, her eyes flicking toward the windows, like she could see the Kincaid ranch from here if she wanted to. “That explains the tension.”
“Is it really that obvious?” I huffed out a quiet laugh.
“Honey, this town can smell unresolved conflict from a mile away. Especially when it involves a Kincaid.”
I took another sip and tried not to let that name do anything to my pulse. It did anyway. Slade Kincaid had a way of lingering under my skin…part irritation, part heat, part something I didn’t know how to define yet.
“Since I’m already under examination,” I said, “maybe you can help me understand something.”
Ruby’s brows lifted. “Such as?”
“What’s the real story with the Kincaids?” I slid onto a stool at the counter. “Not the version everyone wants me to believe, but the truth.”
Ruby didn’t answer right away. She wiped the counter slowly, like she was deciding how much truth I could handle.
“They’re builders,” she said. “They put up fence lines. Grow herds. And they’ve built up quite a reputation. They don’t do anything halfway. Not even their mistakes.”
“And Slade?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Her mouth twitched. “Slade’s the one everyone decided was trouble before he ever decided anything himself.”
“I get that.” Something in my chest tightened and the urge to defend him surprised me. I barely even knew man. Didn’t mean I couldn’t empathize though. We might have more in common than I thought.
“Do you?” Ruby studied me, her gaze too sharp to miss the shift in my voice.
I hesitated. Then I nodded once. “More than you might think.”
She refilled my mug without asking. “Orville told me you lived in Denver before you came to Mustang Mountain.”
“That’s right,” I replied. “I worked on a planning team in one of the suburbs.”
“And your family?” she asked casually, like she was asking about the weather.
I’d heard people mumble about my dad buying my job in Mustang Mountain, though no one had been brave enough to ask me about it outright.
“They’re successful and ambitious,” I said. “And very involved in each other’s lives.”
Ruby waited, giving me space instead of trying to force anything out of me. “That sounds like a lot.”
I let out a quiet breath. “That’s one way to put it.”
Ruby didn’t press. She just nodded and topped off my mug again like the conversation hadn’t veered into something heavier. Her restraint told me more about her than any probing question could have.
“I was the reliable one,” I added after a long beat, surprising myself. “The one who did what was expected and didn’t rock the boat.”
Ruby’s movements slowed. “That can be its own kind of burden, sugar.”
I met her gaze then shifted to stare into my mug. “It can.”
“So why Mustang Mountain?” she asked, casual as ever.
The answer came quicker than I’d expected. “Because no one here knows me yet.”
Her mouth curved into something softer than a smile. “That cuts both ways, honey.”
She didn’t say anything else for a few seconds, and neither did I. The quiet stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt intentional, like she was letting the moment settle instead of rushing past it.
“For what it’s worth,” she said, her voice low, “Orville doesn’t make hiring decisions lightly. Folks around here like to assume shortcuts when they don’t understand why someone would choose this place.”
I nodded, even though my throat had gone tight.
She hadn’t named the rumor. She hadn’t needed to.
Before I could respond, the bell chimed again and two men stepped inside, stamping snow off their boots.
Their conversation cut off the moment they noticed me, their eyes flicking from my face to Ruby and back again.
“You’re the town planner,” one of them said.
I turned. “Yes, sir.”
He gave me a quick once over. “You really gonna put a rodeo out there?”
His tone was short but not hostile. It sounded more like wary curiosity.
“I’m reviewing options,” I said. “There’s a lot to consider.”
“What about parking?” the other guy asked from behind him.
“And noise,” a woman said from a table near the window, her arms crossed like she’d already decided she didn’t like the idea.
I set my mug down and kept my expression neutral. “Those are exactly the things I’m looking at,” I said. “Traffic pattern, drainage, emergency services, capacity. If it happens, it needs to be built to last. Not slapped together.”
A few heads nodded. A few didn’t.
“What about the land?” the woman pressed. “Where’s this rodeo gonna go?”
“The Kincaids have offered acreage for consideration,” I said. “But there are conditions and approvals that have to happen first.”
Ruby’s gaze stayed on me, steady and watchful. I could feel her weighing not only my words, but how I delivered them. Whether I flinched. Whether I tried too hard. I didn’t. I couldn’t afford to.
The bell over the door chimed again. Slade walked in.
Snow fell from his boots. Cold air clung to him like a shadow.
He stopped short when he saw me by the counter.
His gaze flicked to Ruby who was watching over me like a hawk and half a dozen townspeople suddenly invested in zoning and drainage like it was their new hobby.
His jaw tightened, and I could feel it from across the room.
“Is it true the Kincaids are offering land?” someone asked, louder now, like they wanted to hear it straight from him.
Slade opened his mouth, but I answered first.
“They are,” I said. “With conditions.”
A sharp silence followed. Then a voice came from behind me, casual and dismissive, like it was nothing more than a fun fact. “Well, I heard her daddy pulled strings to get her down here.”
The words slammed into me like a punch to the gut.
For a split second, everything went still.
I didn’t turn or give them the pleasure of a reaction.
I’d learned a long time ago that the fastest way to lose control of a room was to defend yourself emotionally.
People didn’t respect explanations. They respected composure.
Ruby set her mug down. Hard. “That’s not how this town works,” she said, her voice like steel.
The man who’d said it shifted his weight, shrugging like he hadn’t tried to cut my legs out from under me. “Just saying.”
“Then say it somewhere else,” Ruby replied.
I kept my voice level, my face calm. “My qualifications are public record,” I said. “And the hiring process was conducted through the county.”
The same man gave a half-smile. “The county likes to do favors.”
My stomach twisted, but I didn’t let it show. “If you have concerns,” I said, “you’re welcome to bring them to town hall during office hours. Otherwise, I have work to do.”
I could feel Slade watching me. Not with his usual challenge, but with something sharper. Protective irritation, maybe. Or maybe he hated the idea of anyone else taking a swing at me before he’d decided what I was worth.
The woman near the window spoke up again, breaking the tension. “So you’re saying the rodeo could happen, but not right away.”
“I’m saying it could happen,” I said, grateful for the change of subject, “if the land is suitable and the town is willing to invest in doing it right.”
That answer gave them something to chew on besides my reputation. The room slowly came back into focus. People shifted in their chairs and went back to their coffee and pastries like nothing had happened. But it had.
Ruby leaned toward me, and her voice dropped. “You handled that well.”
I let out a long exhale. “I didn’t come here to fight.”
“People here don’t always pick the right fights,” Ruby murmured. “And they don’t always fight fair.”
I nodded, my throat tight.
Then her gaze shifted past me, focusing on Slade. He hadn’t moved much since he’d walked in. He’d bought coffee, but he looked like he was holding something back. His shoulders were tight, his jaw clenched hard enough I could see the muscle jump.
I picked up my mug and forced myself to take another sip. The coffee was suddenly too hot and not hot enough at the same time.
Ruby refilled a sugar jar, then said lightly, “So. Denver.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You miss it?”
I surprised myself by answering honestly. “Not really.”
Ruby smiled like she’d known that already. “Then why’d you leave?”
It wasn’t the same question as why I came here. It was deeper. I hesitated long enough to be honest without bleeding out in public.
“I was tired of being the person who did the work and watched someone else take the credit,” I said.
Ruby’s expression softened. “Yeah.”