Chapter 13
Vivi had never been a fixer.
She was a caretaker. The kind who noticed when someone skipped lunch, remembered birthdays no one else did, and quietly made sure the world kept spinning while everyone around her unraveled.
She didn't charge in with solutions. Instead, she showed up with snacks, backup plans, and a steady presence that said you're not alone.
But this? This was way outside her comfort zone. It required action and hard lines—decisions that didn't come with a care-and-feeding manual—and that scared her more than she liked to admit.
Fixing Boone's problem wasn't about pep talks or polite emails. It meant getting her hands dirty in a world that didn't run on charm or checklists. It meant risking failure.
Worse, it meant risking him seeing her fail and that was about as far from her comfort zone as a girl could get without packing a helmet and a flare gun.
But that was today's Glow Up exercise: Break Up with Your Comfort Zone.
She was four-and-O and didn't want to ruin her winning streak. Plus, she was still riding the high from yesterday's call with Lewis. Every time she thought about the way she'd spoken her truth, the clarity in her own words, she felt a rush of pride that made her chest swell.
She had carved out a piece of her life that was hers alone and it felt like she was finally steering her own story instead of drifting along in someone else's plan.
Thanks to Beyoncé, there was a lightness to her step, a grin that kept threatening to spill across her face, and an almost ridiculous sense of giddiness at how good it felt to finally put herself first.
She realized happiness could be something she actively chose, and that decision had given her the courage to dive into something else she'd been thinking about ever since news of the ranch's money problems had gone public.
Sorry, comfort zone. It's not you, it's me.
Vivi looked at the three Callahan men staring back at her like she'd just announced she'd burned down the barn. Which, honestly, might've earned her a warmer reception.
They sat around the kitchen table like it was some kind of family tribunal.
Boone sat at the head, arms crossed and jaw set, looking two heartbeats away from walking out. Colter was half-grinning like he was watching his favorite sitcom. And Eli, well, Eli looked like he'd rather be back dodging gunfire than sitting through whatever this was.
She clasped her hands together and forced a bright, slightly-too-wide smile. "First off, thank you all for coming."
Boone's brow arched. "We didn't exactly have a choice. Rea said it was mandatory."
"Right." Vivi’s chin lifted and she tried to sound confident and not like her pulse was currently doing the cha-cha. "I may have heard around town that you're having a little cash flow problem at the ranch."
Boone groaned like he was two seconds away from killing the next person who spoke. But Vivi wasn't deterred. She had a plan—a good one—and she was going to lay it all on the table.
"What if I could help with that?" she asked.
Three pairs of Callahan eyes landed on her with equal parts suspicion and irritation. Rea's were full of amusement.
Colter leaned forward, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "This should be good."
"Good doesn't even begin to cover it," Vivi said, straightening her notes like she was pitching to investors instead of three very attractive skeptics. "Gentlemen, what if I told you Callahan Ranch could become Montana's next big vacation destination?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Boone blinked, slow and incredulous.
Finally, Eli muttered, "Oh hell, she's serious."
"What if we turned the bunkhouse into a collection of rentals? Like Airbnbs. Tourists, weekend stays, people who want the Montana ranch experience. It could bring in extra cash to help with the rising water costs."
Boone looked at her like she'd just grown antlers. "You want to invite strangers to stay on my land? Fuck no."
"An Airbnb? How would that even work?" Colter asked.
"The bunkhouse is just sitting there unused.
You could turn it into a rustic getaway for city folks.
You know, cowboy charm, horses, hay bales …
the whole shebang. I can help with the setup, the marketing, and making it look inviting.
I mean, if I can make accountants sound like a thirst trap, I can write a bio for this place that will get you booked for months. "
Boone stared at her for a long moment. "You're insane."
"Insane is paying ten grand for a month of country living and having to shovel horse shit," she countered.
Eli choked. "I still can’t believe you paid ten grand to live in this shit hole."
"I know, right? Anyway, if you get those bunkhouses up to snuff, that's six places, which could house six to ten guests at a time, easy. Charge three-hundred a night. That's five-grand a weekend during peak season."
Colter and Eli exchanged impressed looks, and Vivi grinned, feeling the rush of adrenaline.
Step outside your comfort zone. Check.
She couldn't help the little thrill that maybe, just maybe, she'd done more than survive the ranch—she might actually help save it.
Boone leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees, the old wood chair creaking under his weight.
He looked at her sketches like they were rattlesnakes, then cut those skeptical eyes her way.
They were intense with a cutting kind of skepticism that could flatten enthusiasm faster than a Montana windstorm.
"And where are we going to get the money or the time to fix up the bunkhouses?" he asked, voice even but laced with that rancher practicality that always sounded like doubt.
He wasn't mocking her—but he didn't have to. The measured way he rubbed his thumb along the calloused edge of his palm and the slow exhale through his nose, it all said the same thing: You're dreaming.
Vivi felt her spine stiffen and heat climbed her neck in a mix of frustration and that old, familiar ache of not being taken seriously. She'd come in full of fire, with an idea she'd genuinely believed could help, and now it was flickering under his calm, rational stare.
She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she had to admit to herself that his question wasn't cruel—it was the kind of question a man asks when he's spent too many years holding everything together with his bare hands and duct tape.
Still, she met his gaze squarely, refusing to shrink. "You just made ten grand you weren't counting on."
"She might have something here," Colter said with a wink in her direction, and Vivi felt herself blush.
The Callahan brothers were handsome—all three of them. Not just the kind of good-looking that made you glance once and forget it, but the kind that made one’s pulse hiccup and their thoughts scatter.
Boone, with that gruff, commanding presence, exuded a dangerous kind of control she couldn't ignore.
Colter had a quiet steadiness about him—soft green eyes that seemed to read her in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.
And Eli had this lethal, jagged edge that was all controlled strength, like he could see straight through every defense she had without even trying.
Even from across the room, they dominated the space. Not in a loud, showy way, but in the way men who knew exactly who they were simply carried themselves. And Vivi, trying to act casual, found herself staring anyway. Apparently, self-preservation had left the building.
"Where the hell are we going to find the time to fix the place up?" Boone asked.
"For five grand a weekend, I bet you could find the time, Grumpy Cowboy," she said.
"Grumpy Cowboy?" Colter repeated—and both brothers burst out laughing.
Boone's voice cut across the room with finality. "I'm not on board with turning the bunkhouse into some tourist trap. This isn't a theme park. It's my family's land, and I refuse to let it be turned into a sideshow."
Vivi bit her lip, trying not to flare up. She had expected resistance but the edge in his tone made her stomach tighten.
Gone was the gentle, steady man who'd bandaged her hands and made her feel seen. This version of Boone was all sharp words and dismissive tone, his voice cutting through the air like gravel. The lack of faith hit harder than it should have, knocking the breath out of her.
For a second, she just blinked at him, thrown by how quickly the warmth between them had evaporated, leaving only that cool, assessing stare she didn't know how to read.
Rea tilted her head and let out a sigh that carried the weight of decades. "Boone, darling. Sometimes the best way to protect what you love isn't by digging your heels in and refusing to move. You want to keep this land alive, don't you?"
Boone opened his mouth, but Rea held up one hand, silencing him with the authority only a grandmother could command.
"Vivi has ideas. She's smart and capable, and she isn't trying to replace you.
She's trying to help. You didn't build this place alone, your granddad and I did, then your parents took over.
This isn't only your land. It belongs to all four of us, which means all four of us have a say.
Now let us use her head to help keep it standing.
You don't have to like it, but sometimes listening is part of leading. "
Colter and Eli exchanged a glance, quiet approval written all over their faces. Boone shifted uncomfortably, jaw tight—but Rea's words had the undeniable effect of planting a seed.
A hard set stole across Boone's features and Vivi felt her chest clench as she watched him rise from his chair.
"I said no, so this isn't happening."
"Are you against this because it's a bad idea or because it's my idea?" Vivi asked.
"Both," he barked, the word leaving no room for negotiation. He gave her a long, piercing look, like she was being held accountable for daring to suggest it, then turned and strode from the room.
Vivi sank back into her chair, cheeks burning, stomach twisting.
The excitement she'd felt just moments ago was now crushed under the weight of Boone's disapproval.
She'd caused a rift. Not just with him, but with the family she'd started to feel like she belonged to.
Her hands twisted in her lap as she tried to hold back tears.
Boone's dismissiveness stung in a way that felt achingly familiar. Like she'd just traded one man who didn't believe in her for another.