Chapter 3

3

Melissa

T he next morning, I stand in the kitchen, flustered as I carry platters of a rich breakfast over to the table.

They’re all here, eager to eat. Darla’s got an eye on me. I wonder if she knows something or if I’m just being paranoid.

“Here you go,” I say, my voice trembling as I place the fruit platter at the center of the table. Colton moves some of the other plates to make more room. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome, Melissa.” Even my name sounds different rolling off his tongue.

I give him a slight nod and go back to the kitchen counter, loading the dishwasher with shaky hands. I can feel Ethan’s eyes on me. Mitch’s, too.

“I tell ya, that heifer is gonna be the death of me,” Sammy says with a laugh, breaking the silence.

From what I gather, they’re having trouble with some of the younger cows, but it’s to be expected. They’re new to the herd—recent acquisitions from an auction in Long Pine.

Colton keeps looking at me. Darla keeps looking at him. I think she’s picking up on the subtle signs because her gaze shifts to me, and I just want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

“Melissa, you need to eat,” she says, her tone rather commanding.

“I’ll eat after you guys are done. I still need to clean this pot,” I reply, grabbing a brush to do something a round in the dishwasher could easily fix. I just need to keep myself busy until they all leave the kitchen.

If I let enough time pass and never mention it again, Colton won’t bring it up either. If there’s one thing I cannot afford, it’s to lose this job and go back to prison. I can’t. I don’t want to squander this little slice of paradise I’ve found.

Listening to bits and pieces of the conversation, I focus on scrubbing the pot, my body slowly releasing some of the tension through deep sighs.

“What’s up with her?” Darla mutters.

“She’s conscientious. Leave the girl be,” Sammy cuts in.

“And you’ve got quite the attitude problem since Melissa came in. You got the hots for the girl?” she snaps, prompting the others to burst into a heavy round of laughter.

Sammy slaps the tabletop, doubling over. “My God, woman, I can’t believe it. You’re jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous?”

“You miss me. Admit it.”

“I’d rather be dragged by that heifer you hate so much all the way to Long Pine before I’d ever admit such a thing.”

Colton laughs. “Oh, come on, Aunt Darla. We all know you two are itching to get back together. Why don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” Darla snaps and gets up from the table and exits the kitchen, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

I glance back and notice how Kyle and Jason are quietly eating, their eyes darting from one Avery to another, while the brothers, Mitch included, keep smiling at Sammy.

The old man grumbles as he stabs his eggs with a fork. “What?”

“How long are you two gonna pretend you don’t belong together?” Mitch asks.

“It’s complicated, boys. You know that. Just leave it.”

Colton grins coolly. “You started it.”

“Yeah, well, I was stupid. Not the first time. Won’t be the last either. I should’ve known better.”

“You gotta make it up to her,” Ethan says.

“Some flowers might do the trick,” Mitch suggests.

“She’ll just shove ’em down my throat. I blew my chances with her. It’s my fault. Just leave it at that,” he says, then exits the kitchen as well.

Kyle and Jason are busy scarfing down their breakfast, while Colton, Ethan, and Mitch discuss the situation. They would very much like to see Darla and Sammy get back together, but they know it’s entirely up to their aunt. Colton keeps glancing my way, making my heart buck with each gaze.

I try to be professional and find ways to stay busy until they all leave, but the universe is not on my side. One by one, the others go to help with the cattle.

Sammy stops by the counter and leaves his empty plate. “Delicious as usual. Thank you, Melissa.”

“You’re most welcome,” I reply.

He gives me a faint smile, then heads out.

“You deserve a prize for these eggs,” Mitch says. His smile makes my shoulders drop, obliterating my defenses as I giggle softly.

“Oh, no need. It’s my pleasure. I’m glad you like them.”

“I’ll figure something out, don’t worry,” he says. He leaves me with an unspoken promise as he follows Ethan out the door.

And then I am alone with Colton.

I hold my breath as I feel Colton cautiously approaching me. His very presence is enough to scramble my thoughts, making it increasingly harder for me to focus on the dishes. But I can’t ignore the elephant in the room any longer, so, I turn the water off and dry my hands with a towel before I turn around to face him.

Time seems to stand still.

He’s close. Too close and with no regard for my personal space. But honestly, I don’t mind it. If there were no repercussions, I’d get naked with him right then and there. But there would be repercussions.

“Hey,” I mumble. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” He almost laughs, the tension suddenly fizzling away between us.

“I don’t know what else to say.”

Colton gives me a warm smile, hands deep in his jeans pockets as he shifts his body weight from one leg to the other. “We need to talk about yesterday.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Don’t be afraid. I was out of line. It won’t happen again. No matter how I feel, it was completely unprofessional and disrespectful. Rest assured, your position here is in no jeopardy whatsoever.”

I give him a surprised look. “You’re not sending me back to Ridgeboro?”

“Honestly, I’ve only known you for a couple of days, but I can already tell you have no business being in that place,” he says. “So, no, I’m not sending you back. It’s my fault, anyway. You’re safe here; I just need you to know that.”

The knot in my gut begins to slowly unravel, and I let out a loud breath—the one I’d been holding since this conversation started.

“Thank you, Colton. For what it’s worth, I’m partly to blame, too. I didn’t stop you. If anything, I was an eager participant. So, if you want to deduct something from my pay, go ahead and do that.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” he says and smiles, his gaze softening as it searches my face for… something. “You’re full of surprises, I’ll give you that.”

I watch him confidently stride out of the kitchen, his broad shoulders back and his head held high. He must be pleased with how the conversation went, and frankly, so am I. It’s nice to feel safe after so long, but still, there’s that lingering anxiety about being sent back to prison. It affects my every interaction. Of course, it’s not healthy to indulge that fear, but it’s hard to control when so much is on the line.

The worst part is I that I keep thinking about Colton’s kiss, about the way his hands felt on my body, of how his fingers spread me open and explored me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been celibate the last three years, but I felt a connection there —a chemistry between us.

And then there’s Ethan’s dark gaze and intense allure. And Mitch’s boyish smile and spicy humor. Alone, each of them is irresistible. But together? Holy shit, how could any woman not fall head over heels for them.

And that is precisely what I can’t do. I can’t let my desire take over. I need to keep a professional distance—my head down, my nose clean, just like Bucky said. It’s the only way I’ll get to finish my sentence on the ranch instead back at Ridgeboro. That’s the simple truth.

Too bad it’s easier said than done.

I’m chopping carrots and sweet potatoes for a veal stew when I find my thoughts once again wandering back to yesterday’s events, and the memory of Colton’s touch triggers a variety of heated sensations throughout my body. I weigh the idea of going upstairs to finish myself off to take the edge off. But Darla comes in, and I revert to full, professional work mode, chopping away with a faint smile on my lips.

“How’s it going?” she asks, stopping by the coffee machine first.

“Good, thank you. I’m using that veal you bought yesterday for a nice stew.”

She nods while waiting for her coffee to brew. I’m starting to really enjoy the buzzing sound of the espresso machine. It’s the kind of sound that soothes my brain.

“Sounds wonderful. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve taken the liberty of using some of the frozen tomatoes you saved over the summer for the red sauce instead of the usual canned stuff. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all. That’s one of the reasons I stacked them in the freezer, to be honest,” Darla replies. “I doubt I’ll ever get to enjoy a red sauce again, but it doesn’t mean to rest of y’all can’t enjoy it for me.”

“What did the doctor say?” I ask.

Darla takes a seat in one of the tall chairs by the counter island, sipping her coffee as she watches my hands work. “We’re still waiting on a round of tests to figure out if it’s a bacterial infection. It’s a possibility, given how bountiful life on the ranch can be in that sense.”

“There’s bacteria that messes with your sense of taste?”

“And smell. Yeah. There are viruses that do the same. So, they’re testing for everything. Frankly, I’m getting tired of all the poking and prodding. All the needles and MRIs…”

“So, it’s not necessarily a neurodegenerative condition?”

Darla takes a deep breath and lets it out as slowly as possible. I know that look on her face. Its exhaustion combined with frustration. I understand the feeling perfectly, albeit under a different set of circumstances.

“They’re still testing for that, too. I reckon it’ll be a couple more months, at least, before the doctors are able to give me a clear diagnosis. In the meantime, they’re trying different treatments to see what works. I’m just grateful they’re letting me do it as an outpatient, otherwise somebody in that hospital would end up dead.”

“Oh, dear.” I giggle.

Darla changes the subject. “How are you settling in, Melissa?” I notice the subtle shift in her tone. It’s not as stern or as rough as it was the first time we met. She seems a tad softer, and I welcome the change. Maybe she’s getting used to me. “Everybody treating you okay?”

“Yes, absolutely,” I reply, struggling not to think of my session with Colton for the purpose of this conversation. “They’re all good people, kind and welcoming and patient. I like it here, to be honest. It’s peaceful, and there’s plenty of work to keep me busy.”

Darla takes another sip of her coffee, her attention focused on me. She makes me feel like I’m under a microscope lens, but I keep reminding myself it’s in her nature to be cautious, suspicious, and protective of the ranch, of her family, and her people.

“Were those your drugs you got busted for?” she asks, changing gears yet again.

“Wow.”

“I need you to tell me the truth.”

“I could lie.”

Darla flashes a cool grin. “I’d know if you were lying.”

“Fine,” I say, taking a deep breath. “No, they were not my drugs.”

“Whose, then?”

“My fiancé, Jake. I didn’t even know he was dealing,” I reply. “He told me a story about him running an independent delivery service for local pharmaceutical companies.”

Darla chuckles dryly. “Technically speaking, drugs are drugs, no matter who distributes them.”

“Yeah, but class A narcotics aren’t just any drugs,” I sigh deeply. “One night, he asked me to pick up his van from somewhere and drop it off at a different address across Lincoln. He’d been drinking, he said, and a client had called for a last-minute delivery.”

“And you believed him.”

I shake my head slowly. “I was stupid and deeply in love. Granted, I knew he was troubled. I think that’s what drew me to him. I thought I could fix him, show him what real love was.”

“Oh, Melissa. You weren’t stupid. Most of us find at least one such project to emotionally wreck us in our lifetime.” She laughs, but the bitterness in her tone is unmistakable.

“That’s right. And I’ve spent the past three years working on precisely that aspect.”

“How’d you get such a harsh sentence then?”

I lower my gaze in shame. “The cops pulled me over. I showed them my driver’s license. The van didn’t have all the necessary paperwork. I didn’t know that. Five minutes later, they got a call through the station and started going through the van. They found the drugs, and I was speechless, shocked. I couldn’t even react.”

My breathing quickens.

“Are you okay?” Darla asks, instantly noticing the change in my voice. A panic attack is hovering at the edges of my consciousness. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I mumble. “I get anxious when I think about that night and what followed.”

“So, you got arrested for possession.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What happened next?”

“You’re really digging into it here,” I say with a nervous laugh.

Darla’s expression doesn’t shift. “It’ll help you focus and avoid a panic attack. I know what that looks like. Come on, think back. Tell me about it.”

“I was arrested. Entitled to a phone call, so naturally, I called Jake. He wouldn’t pick up. I spent the night in jail,” I say, following her lead. “He didn’t show up at my arraignment either. I couldn’t reach him at all. I couldn’t afford a lawyer, so—”

“One was appointed to you, and I’m guessing he was a stooge.”

“He wanted me to agree to a plea deal,” I say and exhale sharply. Lo and behold, I soon realize Darla was right. I do feel better, calmer. My breath is even once more. “It wasn’t until I was standing in front of the judge that I realized what was going on. I insisted on my innocence. Then the prosecution brought Jake in as their witness. He told them quite the story. He even had proof, though it was circumstantial and easy to disprove if you’re a good defense attorney, but my guy...”

“Your guy was shit.” Darla curses under her breath. “Damn, girl, you really got the short end of the stick there.”

“I did, yeah. They gave me five years in a low-security facility because I didn’t have a record or a history of violence.”

“I’m sorry,” Darla says.

I give her a surprised look. “You believe me?”

“I told you. I’d know if you were lying. So don’t ever lie to me.”

“Wouldn’t even think of it,” I say. “Thank you, Darla. Thank you for believing me.”

While we chat, I transfer the chopped vegetables into a bowl, leaving them to soak in cold salted water for a while, then open the cans of pre-cooked peas and beans and strain them in the sink.

“You should get another lawyer and appeal the verdict,” Darla concludes after sipping her coffee. “It’s not too late. You could get the sentence vacated and sue the state. You’d be entitled to quite the settlement. They’ll never take it to court if the evidence is compelling enough to throw out the original verdict.”

“I’ve got two years left. Might as well get it over with.”

“That record will haunt you forever,” she replies.

All I can do is shrug. “I don’t know, Darla. Lawyers are expensive. Right now, I’m dirt poor. All the money I make here goes into an escrow account until I’m released.”

“There are plenty of lawyers who do this sort of thing pro bono.”

“Why are you pushing this?” I ask her.

Darla thinks about it for a moment, her eyes darting across the counter as she seems to search for the right response. “You don’t deserve to pay for a man’s crimes. I think you should fight this with everything you’ve got. It’ll be better for you in the future. Your employment opportunities will be different. You may feel like you deserve this, somewhere deep down, like you deserve to be punished for having believed in and loved that prick. But it wasn’t your fault. And ruining your life over this just doesn’t feel right.”

“You’re way nicer than I originally thought.” I chuckle lightly, trying to ease the tone of the conversation because I’m uncomfortable with the truth she just delivered. At least I’m able to recognize a hard truth when I hear it. If that’s not a sign of growth, I don’t know what is.

“The guys would agree, too,” Darla insists.

“The guys?”

“Colton, Ethan, Mitch. Hell, they’ve got some great lawyers working for the ranch. They’re close friends with them, too. I could—”

“Maybe it’s best if I keep my head down and just finish what I started here.”

Darla offers a wry smile and finishes her coffee. “For what it’s worth, Ethan almost got court martialed while they were serving with the Rangers. He was accused of something another member of their platoon had done. Colton and Mitch went to hell and back to prove his innocence.”

“Where are you going with this?” I ask.

“You need a smidge of faith, Melissa. It’ll take you far; trust me.”

“What crime was Ethan accused of?” I ask, more curious about their history than I am eager to revisit mine.

Darla lowers her gaze for a moment. “Murdering a fellow Ranger, not that he doesn’t have a dark side and not that he hasn’t killed, but never outside of duty.”

“Oh…”

A different kind of shiver travels down my spine. What Darla is telling me about Ethan pretty much tracks with his overall attitude. That darkness I see within him—it makes sense now. The man carries deep shadows with him everywhere. Yes, he’s handsome as hell, but he’s also demonstrably deadly. Something must’ve changed in my brain chemistry at one point in the past three years because I now I find that combination downright enticing: a man who makes my body sizzle who is also capable of obliterating anybody who tries to hurt me.

I was never a fan of such extremes before, but after everything I’ve seen and lived through, I don’t know…

“Ethan is a good man,” Darla reiterates, as if she can somehow read my mind. “He just has a dark side that needs to be fed.”

“How does he feed that dark side?”

“He’s figured out healthier ways. The ranch keeps him busy: the company of animals, the clean air, the starry nights,” Darla says. “Colton is a good influence on his brother as well. They stuck together from the moment they were born. Then Mitch came along, raggedy and covered in soot, crying his heart out… I’ll never forget that night. They’ve been inseparable ever since, picking each other up all the time.”

“Covered in soot?” I ask.

Darla’s eyes widen, and she looks away. “Forget about it. It’s personal. A slip of my tongue and not my story to tell,” she says. “Point is, I think you should have a little more faith in yourself. You’re entitled to real freedom and a clean record, especially since you didn’t commit the crime you were imprisoned for. It’s just a damn shame.”

“I appreciate it, Darla. I really do.”

“Just think about it. I can put you in touch with our lawyers. If they won’t take the case pro bono, they’ll gladly refer you to one of the charities who do,” Darla replies, then leaves me to my lunch prep work.

She also leaves me with a hefty new thought to mull over.