Chapter Twelve

After getting a jump-start on my to-do list, I work through the morning, cursing and crossing things off until my eyes feel gritty and my brain feels like mush.

I toss the pen down. I need to eat, so I head to the kitchen and make myself a sandwich while sending a return text to Jen to let her know I’m fine.

I’ve spoken to her twice already today. And Shepard, who had called to confirm that the ME had ruled Dale’s death a heart attack, i.e.

, natural causes. Case closed. I thanked him, hung up before he could apologize again, and did a little jig around my kitchen.

The good feeling didn’t last long, though.

News travels fast in this town, and by the time I started making phone calls to local ranchers to see if they were interested in buying my cattle, most were more interested in spitting vile words at me for killing Dale.

I mean, sure, they’re correct, I did, but they don’t know that.

What I couldn’t get my head around was their stubborn willingness to shoot themselves in the foot.

What I offered was a good deal, better than most deserved.

Corvis Wing was still producing the strongest cattle in the county, while most others were failing to thrive.

Instead of cashing in on that, they were going to let their pride get in the way of making a profit. Well, more fool them.

I had to take my business further afield. And when the chips fell, even though they forced my hand, this would be my fault too.

Revenge is what brought me back here. But once that’s done, I’d planned to leave and start over somewhere new, like Jen suggested.

Coming back, though, and feeling what the house does, has changed my perspective.

I can’t just abandon it again. Not when it’s stronger with me here.

And the truth is, I’m stronger with my connection to the house and this land, too.

Now all my plans feel like they’re up in the air.

Somehow, I have to find a way to get my revenge and build a future in a town that fucking hates me. Ugh.

I eat my sandwich in silence, feeling annoyed at everything. The house warns me that someone is approaching. I take the last bite of my food and head to the door, hoping this isn’t Shepard. I’m in no mood to deal with the man again so soon.

When I open the door, I see a beat-up truck pulling up. The glare of the sun on the windshield makes it impossible to see who it is until they step out into the sun. Even with their face hidden under their Stetson, I know who it is from their frame and tattoos.

“Hey, cowboy. I didn’t think you’d come back.”

Riggs takes his hat off and tosses it on the driver’s seat before closing the door and walking over. “I wasn’t sure I’d come back either, but the farther away I got, the more wrong it felt. It doesn’t make sense, I know.”

“Doesn’t have to make sense.”

He stares at me for a beat before he frowns. “Are you okay?”

I huff out a laugh, bringing my hands up to rub my arms. “Let’s just say it’s been an interesting night. You have a bag?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s in the truck. About that. I think it might be best if I stay in a motel or something. I can come back each morning and leave later, but sleeping over isn’t the best idea.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “A man broke in last night. He had a gun. The only thing that stopped me from getting hurt was the fact that he had a heart attack before he could pull the trigger. If staying in a motel is the best you can offer, I’ll have to find someone else.”

“Fuck! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

I feel my face soften even though I’m grumpy and ready for the day to be over. “Could have done without being arrested, but physically I’m fine.”

His eye bugs out at me, making me laugh. I give him the basic rundown of what happened, leaving him looking pissed on my behalf.

“So what’s it gonna be, Riggs? In or out? I can’t have someone half-assing it, especially when I can’t rely on the cops to keep me safe.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…I do, but I have some issues.”

“You’ve got issues? You might as well slap my ass and call me Vogue with how many issues I’ve got at this point.”

He chuckles, running his hands through his hair, which leaves it sticking up. “I have nightmares. Well, night terrors, really. I sleepwalk and do random shit that I have no memory of doing when I wake up. Last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

I bite my lip, understanding where he’s coming from. And given my history, I can’t say I like the idea of potentially getting attacked in my sleep. As an ex-soldier who went through the horrors he did, I can only imagine what haunts him.

“What about if you sleep in the ranch hands’ quarters? They always lived separately from the main house, and as I’ve fired them all, you’ll have the place to yourself. I have someone coming out next week to wire the place up with security. Sneaking in will be much harder anyway.”

He nods. “Yeah, that will work. Alright, consider me hired.”

“Welcome aboard, Riggs.” I hold my hand out to him. He covers it with his much larger one and gives it a firm but gentle shake.

“Thanks for having me, Calliope.” His voice makes my brain feel like it’s going to melt out of my ear like ice cream on a hot day. I mentally bitch slap myself and walk over to his truck.

“You need help bringing your things in?”

“Only got a bag. I don’t need much. Figured I could always pick up more shit if necessary.”

I tug the door open and grab the large gym bag, along with the Stetson. “Well, welcome to Corvis Wing Ranch, cowboy. Let me show you where you’ll be staying, and then I’ll show you what I’m working on. God knows right now I’m ready to throw my laptop out the window.”

“That bad?”

“That frustrating,” I admit as he takes his Stetson from me and places it on my head, winking, then he takes his bag and throws it over his shoulder.

“How about you tell me what needs doing around here besides watching over you. Might as well make myself useful. Besides, I like to earn my keep, and I’ve never been one to sit by idly and do nothing.”

“You might regret saying that.”

He chuckles as I lead him through the house and out the back, down to the newer of the two converted barns.

“You have your pick of rooms. Honestly, I’m probably going to have these both torn down at some point, so we might have to get you an RV or something temporary until I can get something else sorted.”

“I don’t need you to go to any trouble for me.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m just not sure what I want to do with it all yet.

What I do know is that I have no desire to be a cattle rancher.

As I’m in a fortunate position not to need the money the cattle generate to keep this place, I’m likely going to convert the land into something else.

I’m not bothered that the people around here will think I am stupid. ”

“Why would they think you’re stupid?”

“They don’t really need a reason. But in this case, Corvis Wing is the most successful ranch in this county, probably in the neighboring five counties. It’s what my father always wanted, and he built it up brick by brick.”

He looks over at me with a knowing gaze. “And you can’t wait to tear it all down.”

“Heck, if you knew the size of the wrecking ball I wanted to take to this place, you’d start calling me Miley Cyrus.

In fairness, all I really care about is the house itself and some of the immediate land around it, along with the meadows and orchards.

I like to grow things. And that’s where I’m going to start. ”

“Sounds like a plan. So your first step then is to sell off the cattle, I assume?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do all morning. But news got around about Dale’s death, and somehow it’s my fault. So even those who would have jumped at the chance normally are backing off.”

“People are fucking idiots. You have a backup plan?”

“I do. I just might need some help implementing it.”

“Whatever you need. We’ll figure it out.”

I blow out a relieved sigh. “Thanks. It doesn’t seem quite so daunting knowing I’ve got company.”

Ileave Riggs to get settled and head back to the main house to shower and start dinner.

I’m not the world’s best cook. Anything I can cook, I figured out for myself when I was a kid, so most of it is basic.

But I don’t think Riggs will complain. Prison food is nothing to write home about, and from what I’ve heard, soldiers’ MREs aren’t anything to get excited about either.

I decide to go with a simple beef stew with dumplings.

Once I have everything diced, I brown the meat with the seasoning before adding the veg and stock.

I add a little more seasoning and turn it on low before I make the dumplings, so they’re ready to add later.

I wash the excess dough from my hands and turn around to find Riggs watching me.

I don’t jump. The house already let me know I wasn’t alone.

“Smells good.”

“Thanks. It’s nothing fancy but…” My words trail off as he stalks toward me. I have to fight the urge to step back.

“I don’t need fancy, Calliope. This is perfect,” he tells me as he squeezes past me so he can lean over the pot and take a deep breath. He groans, making my stomach clench at the sound. “Fuck. I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal.”

“No pressure then.” I chuckle, taking a seat at the table where I have all my shit spread out.

He turns and leans back against the counter to watch me. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.”

I pick up my discarded pencil and tap it on the paperwork I’ve partially filled out.

“What happened that night? And how did you end up serving time for killing a man who isn’t dead?”

I sigh, tossing the pencil down. “It’s a long and brutal story, and right now, I don’t have it in me to go over it. I promise I will one day, but—”

“No, I get it, that’s fair. It’s not really any of my business. It’s just…You couldn’t have been much older than eighteen. You were just a fucking baby.”

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