20
Darana
The leather of the saddle slips through my hands as I give the girth a firm tug.
Byron, tied to the post beside me, snorts impatiently and stamps a hoof against the ground, kicking up dust. He knows full well that I’ve been in a foul mood all morning and have a knot in my stomach that not even three cups of coffee have been able to untangle.
“Hold still, you little rascal…” I growl, patting his warm neck. “I’m not in the mood for games today.”
The truth is, I’m in the mood to kill someone.
And that someone has a first name, a last name, and catlike eyes—and last night, she crossed the line.
It still gnaws at me to remember Camila playing hard to get with Maddie as if I weren’t right there in front of them.
Damn viper! And the worst part is that she seemed to be having the time of her life, light on her feet and free from the tension crushing my ribs every time she breathes near me. As if hating her weren’t enough.
A pang of jealousy—the raging kind, the kind that makes you clench your teeth—pierces my chest. No way, sweetie. I’m not going to sit idly by and watch someone else flirt with Bennet. I let go of the horse’s lead rope just as the sound of boots approaches down the stable aisle.
“You’re late, Bennet,” I say, turning my back on her as I check the latches on a toolbox with deliberate slowness.
“Good morning to you too, Calloway.”
I turn around slowly and rest a hand on my hip. She’s wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her hair loose beneath her hat, and a technical backpack slung over her shoulder. She looks me up and down and raises an eyebrow at the sight.
“To what do I owe the honor of the escort? Have you gotten bored of being in charge?” she asks, crossing her arms.
I don’t give her time to say anything else. I pat Byron and lead him out of the barn to hand him over to one of the ranch hands while I head toward my Ford Ranger.
“The roads up to the hills are a mess because of the mud from the storm. There are landslides along the trails and plenty of ruts,” I snap, giving the hood a tap. “I’m not going to let you drive up there alone only to have you force me to come get you with the tractor when you get stuck.”
Camila lets out a cheeky laugh that sets my blood racing.
“Look, I know perfectly well how to drive a vehicle over this kind of terrain. Let me remind you that Viento is my soulmate and that I’m not some helpless city girl.”
“I couldn’t care less about what you’re capable of,” I say, fixing her with a stare and taking a step forward until the brims of our hats are almost touching. “I’m not going to risk your safety for the sake of pride. So get in the car and keep quiet—I have a headache.”
Camila holds my gaze, but suddenly, a spark of mischief lights up her eyes. She knows perfectly well that this isn’t about the car. I’m sure she’s capable of reading everything between the lines.
“Are you telling me you want to be my chauffeur?” she teases in a thoroughly provocative tone, taking another step that forces me to breathe in her damn perfume.
“I’m telling you I’m going to guide you so you don’t drive off a cliff,” I correct her, yanking the driver’s door open violently to hide the heat rising up my neck. “Get in before I change my mind and make you walk. When we reach the inaccessible areas, we’ll go on foot.”
Camila walks around the front of the SUV with a smug little smile that makes me want to wipe it off her face. And not exactly with a slap. She hops into the passenger seat with an agile leap, leaving her backpack between her legs.
I start the engine with a wild roar and shift into first gear as if I were punching the gearshift.
The trip begins with the vehicle bouncing along the red dirt track.
At first, the silence inside the cabin is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
I keep my eyes glued to the road, dodging eucalyptus branches that scrape against the bodywork, while she stares out the window with her arms crossed.
But the rough ride has its fun moments. On a sharp, muddy curve, the car swerves violently, and Camila is thrown toward my side, slamming her shoulder against mine.
“Hey! Watch those shock absorbers!” she protests, grabbing the dashboard, her body pressed against mine for a second that’s incredibly awkward… and damn electrifying.
“I told you the road was rough, scientist,” I shoot back out of the corner of my eye, enjoying the sight of her hat flying into the back seat. “You’d better hold on.”
To ease the tension, I clear my throat and gesture toward her backpack.
“How are your… little mechanical birds coming along?”
Camila lets out a laugh—the kind that warms my chest even when I don’t want it to. Because here’s the truth: for as long as I can remember, that’s exactly what her smiles have done to me.
“They’re called drones. And they work like a charm—thanks for asking.
Ethan and Kira are expanding the thermal map across the valley.
We’re monitoring the concentration underground.
If the charge keeps rising… well, I don’t want to sound dramatic, but the last storm is going to seem like a joke.
We’ve already contacted the Institute to start making decisions regarding the town. ”
I nod, turning serious for a moment. The road gets steeper, and I press harder on the accelerator. The car roars, cutting through the underbrush.
“And when you’re done with this area?” I ask casually as I wrestle with the steering wheel. “What’s next on your schedule?”
Camila turns her head. I feel her eyes fixed on my profile before she answers with a half smile that feels like a kick in the stomach.
“I chase storms, Darana. I’ll go wherever the sky decides to unleash itself. If nothing changes, I’ll spend some time at my home base—my apartment in the city. It’s a place to come back to, I suppose.”
“A place to hide, you mean,” I mutter under my breath, slamming on the brakes as we reach the clearing at the summit.
The SUV comes to a screeching halt beside the old rocky lookout, kicking up a cloud of dust. I turn off the engine, and the silence of the mountain suddenly envelops us. We both get out at the same time, slamming the doors in unison.
Camila pulls the toolbox out of the trunk, but as she tugs on it, the weight gets the better of her on the slope of the clay-covered ground. Instinctively, I take two strides and grab her by the arms before she twists her ankle.
“You’re still as clumsy as ever, damn it,” I say, holding her up.
Our hands meet on the metal box. Her fingers intertwine with mine, and we freeze. That damn static sparks between us again—wild, alive, so very alive. Camila stares at me intently, her breathing slightly quickened.
“Thanks,” she whispers, and I swear her eyes drop a fraction toward my mouth.
I release my grip as if I’ve gotten a cramp, even though inside, I’m dying to slam her against the car’s metal panel.
“It’s nothing. Bring that over.” I snatch the box from her and walk toward the repeater pole to cover up my reaction. “I can’t believe this thing is still standing after last night’s wind.”
“It’s tougher than it looks,” she says, following in my footsteps as she pulls a multimeter out of her backpack. “Just like the owner of Birdsong Hills.”
I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and see that she’s genuinely smiling.
“I remember when we used to come up here to get away from everyone else,” I blurt out before my pride can stop me. “We’d spend the afternoons badmouthing everyone and laughing until our stomachs hurt.”
“I remember it perfectly,” Camila says, taking a step toward me and leaning her shoulder against the pole. “You were the only one who made this town feel like anything other than a prison to me. Even more so than… Elijah.”
The mention of my brother still hurts. But the silence that follows isn’t the kind that comes after an argument; it’s the kind that weighs heavily, the kind that brings back memories that burn deep inside.
“You know what?” I add, gazing toward the valley on the horizon. “Now that some time has passed… I understand why you left. Between your family’s expectations, Elijah, the future of this place, and the pressure from the town, we were suffocating you. And I was probably the first one to do it.”
Saying it nearly kills me. It’s like swallowing a handful of shards of glass, but it was time to be honest. Camila turns fully toward me, surprised, and her eyes grow softer than cotton.
“It wasn’t just because of the town, Darana…
” she confesses in a whisper that makes my skin prickle.
“I was drowning. I was drowning because I didn’t know who I was, or what I was doing in this damn desert, or why…
” She stops short, swallowing her final words.
She fixes me with a gaze so full of wild confusion that it takes my breath away.
We look each other straight in the eye, unguarded, with the half-spoken truth staring us in the face.
Camila takes another step—the last one she needs to bridge the distance—and I swear I can smell the sun on her skin, see the freckles on her nose, and feel the warmth of her body mingling with mine.
I feel that if I move just one more inch forward, I’ll grab her by the shirt and pin her against the pole to satisfy the hunger and rage built up over years of silence.
Camila blinks, glances sideways at my lips, swallows hard, and—in a fit of shyness that doesn’t suit her at all—clears her throat with tremendous awkwardness. She breaks the magnetic tension by taking a step back and raises the Phillips-head screwdriver as if it were a protective shield.
“Well… Calloway,” she says hesitantly, trying to regain control. “Are you going to help me, or are you just going to stand there reminding me of my youthful indiscretions?”
I burst out laughing, breaking the spell, and snatch the screwdriver from her.
“Pass me the wires, scientist. Let’s see what’s broken around here.”
We get to work side by side. Camila asks me for tools and patiently explains the procedure.
“Hold this wire, Darana,” she says, guiding my hand. “Keep it tight.”
“Like this?” I tease her, squeezing my fingers exactly where she tells me to.
“Perfect. Just like that,” she replies.
The sun beats down on us, the wind rustles through the treetops, and the only thing we can hear is our steady breathing.
“Do you remember that mess you got us into right behind those rocks when we were seventeen?” I tease her suddenly, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye with a smile.
Camila stops dead in her tracks, her hands resting on the equipment panel, and turns as red as a tomato in an instant. She lets out a stifled laugh and gives me a light nudge in the ribs.
“Don’t even remind me, Darana—how embarrassing. Please.”
“Embarrassing, she says!” I burst out laughing, enjoying seeing her like this. “My dad almost fainted when he came up to look for us and saw you hiding that bottle of cheap rum behind the bushes and me trying to patch up the hole we’d made in the water tank.”
“Hey, it was your horse’s fault—he got spooked!
” she defends herself, turning completely around and pointing the screwdriver at me as she laughs her head off.
“And your aim—you wanted to show off how well you could use a lasso, and you ended up getting tangled in the pipe and tearing down half the fence. What a sight!”
“Yeah, yeah, but you sure drank that rum to get over the scare,” I retort, giving her a light tap on the tip of her nose with my finger. “And you sure begged me to take the blame in front of the foreman so they wouldn’t send you back to your parents’ house early.”
Camila stares at me, a smile etched on her lips and her eyes shining with a nostalgia that takes my breath away.
“And you did,” she recalls, and her playful tone suddenly turns into something much more intimate. “You always saved my skin. Even when I acted all high and mighty and pretended I could handle everything on my own.”
“Well, you were just hiding your pain, Bennet,” I fire back, feeling my own heart race.
We keep working until the repeater is fixed.
“You’re a machine.”
She turns, takes off her hat to shake out her hair, and gives me a beautiful smile. This is still a private war between her and me. It always has been. And I don’t care that Maddie Strong is trying to get in the way.
I take a deep breath.
“We should probably head back,” I suggest, even though my boots feel glued to the ground.
“Yeah, I need to catch up with the others.”
But neither of us moves toward the car. Because we know full well that as soon as we go down this hill and return to the ranch, the ranch hands, the problems, and that damn past will all be back.
Finally, I’m the one who takes a step toward the SUV’s door and pulls the handle.
“Well, get your ass moving, Bennet.”
She nods with a smile, but before getting in, she gives me one last look. One of those silent, intense glances that promises a storm—and one hell of a storm at that.
And as I shift into gear to begin the descent down the muddy trail, I’m absolutely certain that the tables have turned.