Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
I shoved a hand through my hair. I didn’t need to be dealing with this shit right now. I was dirty, exhausted, and I still hadn’t seen Richard.
“Why don’t you ask my dad about the fence break on Mr. Hammond’s pasture out by Mob Creek?”
I glanced behind me to see Tyler striding forward. His cheeks blazed with color, and his hands clenched in fists by his side.
Walt pointed a finger at Tyler. “You stay out of this, boy.”
Tyler kept going. “You think I haven’t run enough fence with you in my life to recognize your handiwork?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Walt’s tone was menacing, his eyes narrowed.
“You twist the wire back when you cut. Same way your dad taught you, same way you taught me. It’s such a habit you probably don’t even realize you’re doing it.”
Walt frowned.
Tyler pulled his phone from his pocket. “I took pictures. I have evidence.”
“You don’t have shit,” Walt spat. His face was red with fury.
“Or why don’t you tell them that you don’t keep breeding stock out by Corrigan’s Pond? That’s where you’re saying your breeders were poisoned, right? I can attest to the fact that you’ve only ever grazed cull cows out that far. And I would know since I was the last to ride out there.” He held his phone higher. “Oh, and I have pictures of that too. I took them three weeks ago.” He looked to the sheriff. “Would you like to see them?”
“You motherfu—” Walt launched himself at Tyler, but one of Chisolm’s deputies was quick enough to get an arm around him and hold him back. That didn’t stop Walt from shouting, “Fuck you, you ungrateful shit! After everything I’ve done for your sorry ass!”
Tyler walked right up to his father until only inches separated them. “No, Dad. Fuck you,” he said evenly. Then he turned and walked away, head held high.
I glanced at Chisolm. “We good here?”
He let out a weary sigh. “Seems we are. Sorry about all this.” He held out a hand, and I shook it. Then I turned and started for the bunkhouse, my mind on only one thing: Richard.
I was practically running by the time I hit the porch, and I raced down the main hall, not even bothering to knock before bursting inside his bedroom. I pulled up short. The room was empty, the bed made and the area around the sink emptied of his usual collection of skin care products.
My heart began to hammer, an uneasy feeling taking root in my gut. There was a piece of paper folded on the bedside table, and I approached it warily. It had my name written in bold on the outside. I flipped it over.
I’m leaving—I’m sorry. Tell Oscar he won the bet.
22
RICHARD
I stared at my phone, willing it to ring. Instead, it stayed stubbornly silent. I sighed and let my head fall against the window of the town car my mother had sent to pick me up at the airport. I tried to catch a glimpse of the sky to gauge what time it was, but my view was blocked by towering glass skyscrapers.
I looked again at my phone. I’d left the ranch nearly six hours ago, and I still hadn’t heard from Boone. Not that I knew what I’d say when he did call. I couldn’t explain why I’d left without saying goodbye because I didn’t even understand it myself. And what if he asked me how I felt about him? What if he wanted to talk about our future?
The thought caused my skin to prickle and my heart to race with panic. As much as I wanted to hear Boone’s voice, I realized there was absolutely no way I could talk to him right then. Not with everything else going on. With fumbling fingers, I quickly powered down my phone. The moment the screen went blank, I felt peace wash over me. No more texts from my mother or my father’s assistant, no more emails about my father’s estate, no more worrying about what to tell Boone.
With a sigh, I went back to staring out the window. The city noise outside was muffled as we glided up Broadway toward my parents’ brownstone. Spring was turning to summer, and the sun wasn’t close to setting yet. Freshly planted flowers filled a few window boxes here and there, and men and women paraded up and down the street in fewer layers than they’d worn when I’d left.
This time of night on the ranch would have still required at least long sleeves, but in the city, it was already warmer. I spotted a gorgeous Dolce & Gabbana cherry-print halter dress I’d noticed in a recent fashion magazine, and I smiled as I watched the woman wearing it do the damned thing justice with every step she took. This city was amazing. Everything I’d ever wanted was here, and there was inspiration everywhere I looked.