Chapter 9 Juliana
JULIANA
Juliana gripped the back of the four-wheeler with her legs like her life depended on it because, in that moment, it sort of did.
“Lean left!” Gideon shouted over the roar of the wind as they crested a ridge.
She squeaked and did as instructed, heart pounding wildly as they skidded through the turn. Dust swirled behind them like a tail, and her hair—painstakingly braided that morning—was unraveling strand by strand in the wind. She should’ve been mortified. She should’ve demanded to stop.
But the sound that burst from her throat wasn’t protest. It was laughter. Unfiltered, breathless, full-bodied joy. She hadn’t let herself feel that in far too long.
Clinging to Gideon had probably helped her survive the ride, but it had also done something much more dangerous.
His back had been warm and solid beneath her hands, muscles shifting beneath his T-shirt as he leaned and steered with effortless control.
Her arms had wrapped around his waist, her cheek nearly against his shoulder, and she had felt every twist and lurch like they were moving as one.
She’d told herself it was just survival instinct, just holding on.
But her body had betrayed her and relaxed into his. Trusted him.
By the time Gideon slowed the ATV near a grove of cottonwoods, her cheeks were flushed and her hands still trembled from the ride. She swung her leg off awkwardly, boots catching the step, and nearly tumbled straight into him.
“You all right, city girl?” he teased, catching her arm as she regained her balance. His grin was all sunshine and mischief and entirely too charming.
“Remind me to never trust you when you say it’s just a casual ride.” She brushed a layer of dust from her jeans. “That was . . . illegal in some states, I’m sure.”
“But fun.” His grin widened, cocky and warm all at once. “Admit it.”
She tried to glare at him. Tried not to smile. Failed.
“Fine,” she huffed, breathless. “It was fun. Terrifying, but fun.”
Gideon's eyes were bright with laughter as they steadied on her. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. Her hands came up to brush her crazy hair down. "Don't," he commanded, something in his voice making her obey.
"What?" The word was nothing more than a whisper.
"You're really beautiful like this."
Her breath caught.
There was that same unguarded honesty he’d given her on the beach in Tealua. No charm layered over it. No teasing grin to soften the edges. Just his version of truth, handed to her like it didn’t cost him a thing.
Juliana didn’t know what to do with it. Her mom’s voice still echoed in her head from that morning—sharp and cold and cruel. Reminding her that she was too much and never enough, all at once. That she’d scared Leo off with her intensity. That she’d lost her fiancé and now, apparently, her mind.
But here was Gideon, brushing his fingers near the fraying edge of her braid, his smile quiet now.
“Like what?”
“Happy,” he said, softer this time. “Don’t hide your joy to make yourself smaller for them.”
“I’m not—” She stopped herself, the automatic protest dying on her tongue. He wasn’t accusing her. He was seeing her.
And that was more terrifying than the four-wheeler ride.
“I don’t know how,” she admitted, eyes on the dusty toes of her boots.
Gideon stepped closer, close enough that she felt the heat of him, the familiar scent of sweat and cedar clinging to his shirt.
“Well,” he murmured, “maybe I can help you remember.”
She looked up at him then, and their eyes met—real and raw and unarmored. Something shifted in her chest—a low tremble of want and warning colliding. His eyes fell to her lips and everything in her wanted a repeat of the kiss they’d shared during their wedding.
A bird called in the trees behind them, and the spell snapped. She cleared her throat and stepped back. “I should, uh, get back to the lodge.”
Gideon didn’t press. Just nodded and turned toward the trail. “C’mon, then. Hold on tight. I want to introduce you to Ethel.”
“Is that a . . . dog?”
He gave her a funny look. “You don’t name a dog Ethel. If I had a dog, he’d be named Duke or something cool like that. Come on, you’ll see.”
And even as she followed him back toward the four-wheeler, Juliana’s heart beat a little faster—not from fear this time, but from the dangerous thought that maybe . . . she didn’t want to put herself back together quite yet.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it?
This wasn’t supposed to be easy. It wasn’t supposed to feel good.
She could still hear her mother’s voice.
Juliana had ended the conversation quickly, before the tears could win. Before she said something unforgivable. But the ache still lingered. The weight of not being enough. For Leo, for her mother, for anyone.
And now here she was, riding through open pastures with wind in her hair, laughing like someone she didn’t recognize.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who clung to reckless men on four-wheelers. She didn’t get dirt under her nails or let her hair go wild in the wind. She was drawer organizers and early check-ins. She was predictable and dependable.
But clinging to Gideon and letting go of her tight control for just a moment? It felt like a version of herself she didn’t remember.
And that made her feel a little bit dangerous. A little bit broken. A little bit too close to wanting more.
She glanced sideways at him as he stretched his arms overhead, taking in the view like it belonged to him. Maybe it did. Maybe this whole world—the sky, the dust, the untamed joy—was Gideon’s. And part of her wanted it, too.
Even though she shouldn’t. She was supposed to be here for one reason: to see if she could honor the vows she’d made. To confirm that Gideon was just a mistake and get on with her real life.
Whatever that was anymore. Every day away made her old life feel more like someone else’s story.
After they ditched the four-wheeler, Gideon did introduce her to Ethel. Juliana hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t a truck older than both of them. She eyed the beast warily. “You named your truck?”
“She’s got personality,” Gideon said, rubbing the dented fender with a kind of reverence. “She deserves a name.”
“Does she come with a tetanus shot?” Juliana muttered, reaching for the door handle and recoiling when it creaked like something out of a haunted house.
“She’s sensitive,” he said, opening the passenger door for her. “Show a little respect.”
Juliana raised an eyebrow but climbed in, brushing hay off the seat before settling into the cracked leather. “If I get lockjaw, you’re driving me to the hospital. And I’m picking the music.”
“You say that like Ethel has a working radio.”
“She doesn’t?”
He grinned as he slammed the driver’s side door shut with two solid hits. “You’re adorable.”
Juliana huffed, turning to the open window and letting the breeze slap her in the face.
Adorable. As if she were a kitten or a cupcake.
She wasn’t adorable. She was competent. She had packing cubes and a high credit score.
She did not belong in a dusty truck with a man who wore the same smirk whether he was scaling a mountain or calling her beautiful.
And yet . . .
As the truck rattled down the dirt road, her hand found the edge of the seat to brace herself.
The countryside opened up around them. Sunlight brushed across golden grass, the wide blue sky stretching above on one side as the red rock cliffs climbed toward the sky on their left.
Gideon hummed to himself, occasionally thumping the steering wheel in rhythm.
Something about the way he handled everything—vehicles, adventures, even her—was both infuriating and oddly grounding.
They pulled up in front of a giant, inviting house she hadn’t noticed tucked behind the trees. She knew they weren’t far from the main lodge, but it was still secluded. “This is incredible. Is this yours?”
“My parents,” he replied with a shrug. “I live on Wrangler Row in one of the small cabins.”
His parents? Perhaps she’d underestimated Gideon’s status here on the ranch. Everyone made it sound like he was just a tour guide. He certainly didn’t act like he owned the place. His siblings worked here too, though. The realization sank into her chest with dread.
“Why are we at your parents’ house?” she asked, letting her skepticism color each word.
Gideon threw the truck in park and cut the engine, his face all casual innocence. “Because they want to meet you.”
Juliana blinked. She was covered in dust and her hair was a mess. “This can’t be happening.” How had no one mentioned that his parents lived on the ranch, too? She reached for the door handle, but nothing happened. She tugged again.
“The doors only open from the outside. Just a sec.”
“You’re joking.” Juliana narrowed her eyes. “Is this how you keep your dates from running off? Lock ’em inside Ethel until Stockholm syndrome kicks in?”
“Actually, I mostly have the opposite problem.”
She arched a brow, trying to figure out what he meant.
A self-deprecating smile crossed his lips. “It would seem that you’re not the only one who thinks a vacation fling with me is a great idea. I have to say, you’re the only one who managed to put a ring on it.”
She rolled her eyes. “So, are you going to let me out of here?”
“Ethel just needs the right touch. Like all the best women,” he added with a wink. He pushed a button on his door and rolled down the window so he could reach his hand to open his own door.
“Mom and Dad heard I got married,” he said, unbothered, like this was the most normal sentence in the world. “And naturally, they’re curious about the woman who snagged me.”
Juliana’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. “We are not actually married.”
Gideon’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You wore a dress. We said vows. We signed a certificate. You cried.”
“I did not cry.”
He shrugged, rounding the front of the truck to open her door. “Your mascara said otherwise.”
She smacked his arm lightly but let him help her down anyway. “We barely knew each other. You were a last resort so I didn’t have to go alone. It definitely doesn’t mean I have to meet your parents.”
“You don’t have to . . . but I’d like you to.”
She stared at the wide front porch, her pulse skipping. “You’re serious.”
He nodded, all laid-back charm, but something softer flashed in his eyes. “They’re good people, Jules. They’re not gonna interrogate you or make it weird. They just want to meet the woman who has made me smile like a lunatic for the past twenty-four hours.”
Her heart did a traitorous little lurch at that, and she hated how much she liked hearing it. “I’m not ready for this.”
“You’ll be fine.”
She blew out a breath, looked toward the door, then back at him. “Do I have dirt on my face?”
“Probably.”
“Gideon.”
“You look perfect.” And this time, there was no teasing in his voice. Every resistance she was holding softened. Why did his compliments unravel something inside her?
She should’ve run. She should’ve marched back to the lodge and demanded a flight home and a refund for every ridiculous lei and symbolic certificate. But instead, she stood there on his parents’ porch with wild hair and dusty boots and let herself be seen.
“Fine,” she muttered. “But if they try to show me naked baby photos of you, I’m out.”
Gideon grinned, slipping his hand into hers like it belonged there. “Noted.”
And together, they walked toward the house like two people who weren’t faking it—at least not entirely. Gideon pushed the door open with exaggerated flair. “Mother Reynolds, may I humbly present your new daughter-in-law. Juliana Marie Emerson, of the San Francisco Emersons,” he added dramatically.
Juliana froze. Gideon didn’t. He was already laughing.
The petite, silver-haired woman beamed and crossed the room in three strides to embrace Juliana like they were old friends. “Oh, honey, I’ve been dying to meet you. You’re even prettier than Cassie said. Knock it off, Gideon. You’ll make her think we’re all stuck up or something.”
“I—thank you.” Juliana straightened, unsure what to do with her hands. Or face. Or life.
His mother took it all in stride. “I’m Connie. And this grump back here—” she motioned toward a barrel-chested man with bushy brows and a skeptical gaze “—is Barry. Don’t mind his frown. It’s permanent.”
Barry grunted. “You planning to stay long?”
“Dad,” Gideon warned.
Juliana lifted her chin, channeling every polished event-planner instinct she had. “I’m not actually sure.”
Connie’s eyes sparkled. “Well, while you’re here, we could desperately use some help planning the Christmas Barn Dance. Cassie’s up to her ears with the boys, and I’m not twenty-five anymore, no matter how young I look.”
Juliana blinked. “I—um—”
“Gideon says you’re an event planner. That’s an answer to prayer, right there.”
“Well,” she said slowly, “I suppose I could take a look at your checklist.”
Connie clapped her hands. “Marvelous. I knew I liked you. The Christmas Barn Dance is the biggest event we host at the ranch, and the whole town comes. Has Gideon taken you into town yet?”
She shook her head.
“Gideon,” his mom admonished. “You can’t just keep the girl trapped out here on the ranch.”
“She just showed up two days ago, Mom,” he replied with a good-natured smile. “I’ll take her into town soon.”
The evening with Gideon’s parents was filled with a surprising amount of laughter.
Juliana watched with rapt attention at the way Connie and Barry interacted.
They loved each other. It was obvious that there was very little Barry wouldn’t do to make Connie happy.
The two of them were affectionate in a way she’d never witnessed with her own parents, nor her mom and step-dad.
Is that what she and Gideon would be like if they stuck it out?