Chapter 1 Beau
ONE
BEAU
I’ve waited fifteen years for this day, and now it’s here.
Sitting in Jasper Reed’s office, hat in my hands, I watch the door with the patience I’ve learned over time.
I picture the ranch land that should be mine, just beyond the window—eight hundred acres my grandfather lost in a poker game.
Maybe today I’ll finally start to make things right.
The door opens. Jasper steps in first, all country lawyer in his worn suit and boots. Then she follows.
Willa Knox. Her name doesn’t fit this place. She’s small, city-small, with brown hair in a messy bun and sharp green eyes that scan the room. Her jeans are tight, her blouse too thin for Montana spring. She stands tall, chin up, refusing to back down. She doesn’t belong here.
Jasper gestures. “Beau Gamble, meet Willa Knox.”
I stand, my movements stiff from nerves and habit more than courtesy. She doesn’t offer her hand, and neither do I, both of us measuring the other, tension simmering in the air.
“Ms. Knox.” I nod once.
“Mr. Gamble.” Her voice is steady and edged.
We sit across from each other at Jasper’s oak desk, the land title between us. Jasper clears his throat.
“As we discussed, Ms. Knox has inherited the property from her great-uncle. The legal transfer is complete.”
“The property next to mine. The one lost from my family.”
Willa’s eyebrows rise. “Stolen?”
“Lost in a card game,” Jasper corrects, shooting me a warning look. “Legally transferred.”
“Fifty years ago,” I add. “My grandfather never got over it.”
She crosses her legs. “And that’s my problem?”
I lean forward. “I want to buy it from you.”
Jasper slides a folder across the desk. “Mr. Gamble has prepared an offer.”
Willa doesn’t open it. “I know what he wants.”
I study her face. She wears no makeup, has a few freckles across her nose, and a small scar above her right eyebrow. She doesn’t need anything changed—she’s striking as she is. She watches me too, her gaze steady, and I wonder what she’s searching for in me.
“The land connects to my water source,” I say. “It’s useless to you.”
“Is it?”
“You’re from Chicago, right? What are you going to do with ranch land?”
She tilts her head. “You’ve done your research.”
“I’ve been waiting for this land to become available for a long time.”
“It’s not for sale.”
I keep my voice even. “Everything’s for sale.”
“Not this.”
Jasper: “Please consider, Ms. Knox. It’s generous.”
Willa finally opens the folder. I watch her eyes move across the numbers. No reaction. She closes it.
“It’s not enough.”
“It’s fair market value,” I say. “More than fair.”
“To you.” She pushes the folder back. “I’m not selling.”
I feel my jaw tighten. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”
“Enlighten me.”
“That land needs to be managed. It’s not a city park. There’s irrigation, fencing, and grazing rotations.”
“I’m a quick learner.”
I lean back, frustration building. “You won’t last a month.”
“Is that a threat?”
“An observation.”
She smiles then, a small curve of her lips that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve survived worse than a Montana ranch, Mr. Gamble.”
The way she says my name, as if she’s testing it out, irritates me and sends a prickle across my shoulders. I stand up quickly, needing space before I lose my temper. I tell myself not to let her get to me, but she already has.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Probably.” She stands too, determination hardening her posture as she refuses to be intimidated by my height. “But it’s my mistake to make.”
We face each other across the desk, tension thick in the air. I notice things I shouldn’t: the way her hair slips from its bun, the stubborn set of her chin, how her eyes shift color in the light.
“I can offer more,” I say, voice tight.
“No.”
“Name your price.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not interested in your money.”
“What are you interested in?”
She holds my gaze a beat too long. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Jasper: “Let’s take a break. Ms. Knox is at the motel.”
“The motel?” I look at her. “You don’t even have a place to live?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You’ll need to stay there. The cabin’s been empty for years.”
“I’m aware.”
I run a hand through my hair. “You can’t just show up and expect—“
“Expect what? Does everyone need to give me what I want? No.”
She’s got fire. I’ll give her that. I remind myself not to underestimate her, but I can feel my resolve start to waver.
“The offer stands,” I say finally. “When you come to your senses.”
“When hell freezes over, Mr. Gamble.”
Jasper steps between us. “Perhaps Ms. Knox would like to see the property before making any final decisions.”
“I would.” She turns to me. “Will you show me around, Mr. Gamble? Since you know it so well?”
It’s a challenge. I recognize it for what it is, and I can feel something shifting inside me. Part of me wants to prove her wrong, part of me wonders if I even can.
“I can take you tomorrow,” I say. “Eight o’clock.”
“I’ll be ready.”
We move toward the door, the space between us charged with something I don’t want to name. I hold the door open for her, an automatic gesture.
“Thank you, Mr. Gamble.” She pauses in the doorway, close enough that I catch her scent, something clean and unfamiliar. “I look forward to seeing what all the fuss is about.”
She walks away, her steps steady and measured. I watch her go, my chest tight, frustration and curiosity battling inside me as I start planning my next move.
“You’re not going to win this one, Beau,” Jasper says behind me. “Not like that.”
“I always win, Jasper.”
“Not with a woman like that.”
I turn to face him. “What do you know about her?”
“Enough.” He gathers the papers on his desk. “Her uncle left her everything. House, land, livestock. She’s got no reason to sell.”
“She’ll change her mind.”
“You sure about that?”
I’m not sure. For the first time in years, doubt creeps up my spine. The woman who just left carries herself like she’s already won, and that unsettles me more than I want to admit. My confidence wavers as uncertainty eats at me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, heading for the door.
“Beau.”
I stop, hand on the doorknob.
“She’s not what you expected, is she?”
I don’t answer. I don’t need to. Jasper knows me too well.
I step outside into the spring air, scanning the street for any sign of her. She’s gone, disappeared into this town she doesn’t know, this land she doesn’t understand.
But I’ll find her. Tomorrow, I’ll show her exactly what she’s dealing with. The land, the work, the isolation. I’m convinced she’ll see she’s in over her head and take the money, go back to Chicago, where she belongs. I need her to see it—I need to believe it myself.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I climb into my truck, doubt flickering even though I try to act confident. But something in her eyes, the way she met my gaze without flinching, stays with me and makes me wonder for the first time if I’ve finally met my match.