Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Rae

M y stomach sank as the cityscape gave way to long empty country roads surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. For a while it seemed like we were the only car on the road, and with the cell signal dropping in and out, my dread slowly built. It felt like I had been tossed into a horror movie where the victim was driving along in the middle of nowhere, on some desolate backroad where a killer was waiting for a chance to disable the truck she was in so he could drag her back to his lair and use her skin to fashion some kind of coat.

I suddenly regretted making it a habit to exfoliate and moisturize regularly. I was a skin-wearing serial killer's wet dream, damn it !

"The signal will pick back up as soon as we get into town. It's not that much farther."

I looked over at the woman who had picked me up from the airport—an old friend of my mother's named Rory—and offered her a smile I was sure looked grim as hell. She must have sensed my rising panic and was trying her best to ease my fears. I didn't bother telling her it wouldn't work.

She'd been really nice so far, talking about her family, the ranch, and the town I was going to call home for the foreseeable future, but every word out of her mouth was like nails being driven into my skull, a reminder of how far I'd fallen. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to work on a ranch . I kept praying this was a nightmare and I had fallen asleep while watching an episode of Schitt's Creek that had somehow carried over into my dreams, so I'd wake up any minute now and find myself curled up in bed in my apartment. I actually had bruises on my arm from pinching myself, hoping none of this was real.

When we hit the town limits of Hope Valley, she started pointing out different things she thought I might have interest in: a salon, the local diner, the bar her family owned. I had to admit, it wasn't quite as bad as I'd been expecting. It was... quaint. The view was impressive, what with the mountains and trees and stuff, and it was nice not seeing a layer of smog painting the horizon in a dingy gray. But I was a city girl. I wasn't exactly big on nature. The small shops lining the streets were a far cry from Rodeo Drive, and there wasn't a Sephora or Starbucks in sight. I appreciated what Rory was trying to do, but I seriously doubted a place called Muffin Top was capable of making a half-decent cup of coffee.

I blinked, and just like that, we were through the small downtown area and heading toward the foothills. She made a turn a few minutes later, the faded black asphalt road giving way to gravel as we left civilization behind in the rearview mirror.

The road we were on could barely be called that. It was more of a rocky, bumpy path than an actual road, and the farther we traveled, the tighter the pressure in my chest grew until I worried the only way to release it was screaming bloody murder at the top of my lungs.

"This is it," Rory said as we drove through a wooden arch with the words Safe Haven Ranch carved into the sign hanging from the top. It was a catchy name, I'd give her that at least.

On my right, cows grazed in a field of emerald green grass, separated from the road by a barbwire fence. "This is all yours?" I asked as I leaned closer to the window, lifting my hand and placing my palm against the glass. As much as I hated to admit it, it was beautiful out here. Flat pastures gave way to forest that rose up into foothills and mountains beyond. It wasn't anything like the city I'd called home the past few years. When I looked out my window in L.A., all I saw were more buildings, some new, some rundown. The streets below were clogged with cars, and the brownish-gray pollution haze was constant.

There was none of that out here. The sky was a clear baby blue that looked like it went on endlessly, dotted with fat white cotton-candy clouds. The truck's tires crunching on the gravel was the only sound not from nature. I was sure if I rolled down my window, the air would be fresh and crisp, scented with pine instead of exhaust and the occasional whiff of urine.

"It's my family's," Rory answered. "This ranch has been in my family for generations. My son runs it now. My daughter manages the Tap Room in town. I'm sure you'll meet her soon enough. She's actually excited to have another woman her age on the ranch."

A large, rustic ranch house came into view, the sun catching off the black metal roof and drawing my attention. It was a charming house whose wooden exterior and stone accents made it fit perfectly with its surroundings. Thick wooden beams and stone pillars supported the wide porch that looked like it wrapped around the entirety of the first level, and brown wooden siding made up the rest.

"Is that your house?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No. My husband and I have a house about five miles from here. Still on the ranch, just a different section. But I did grow up there. That was my parents' place until they had something smaller built a few years back. We've been trying to convince Zach to move in since he's running things now, but he can be an obstinate pain in the ass when he sets his mind to it. Says it's too much house for just him." I had so many questions, the biggest being why someone wouldn't want to live in a house that looked so warm and inviting, but Rory wasn't finished pointing out different landmarks.

She pointed through the windshield. "That's the main barn there," she indicated, drawing my attention to the massive barn about two hundred yards back from the ranch house before moving her arm and tapping the glass on her driver's side window. "And if you turn left here and follow it to the end, you'll end up at Second Hope Lodge. My folks also live down that road."

I turned to face her. "A lodge?" I asked curiously. "My mom didn't say anything about a lodge." If this place was some kind of resort, that meant it had to have amenities, right? Maybe this wasn't going to be such a disaster after all.

"Yeah, we opened the lodge about four years ago." She gave me a sideways look, like she knew what was running through my head. "It's a lovely building, but I don't think it's going to be what you're expecting. You won't find any massages or facials here."

I faced forward in my seat, my hopes dashed. So much for booking spa treatments.

"You'll help around the ranch when Zach needs an extra pair of hands, but you'll also work at the lodge. My mom is in charge of everything, and we have a staff to handle all the rest. You'll float between the different departments like housekeeping and the waitstaff. Everyone is on rotation to cook dinner for the ranch hands and lodge staff every night, so you'll be added to that as well."

My heart shot up into my throat. The extent of my time in a kitchen had started and ended with that fire I'd been trying to put out the night I'd been arrested. I didn't know the first thing about cooking, but I kept that bit of information to myself. I'd already started off on the wrong foot before I even got here, no sense in tarnishing my poor reputation even further. This might not have been what I wanted, but I was still determined to do my best with what I was handed. My heart still ached at the disappointment I had seen on my parents' faces. I wanted so badly to prove to them I wasn't the screwup I'd led them to believe I was. I would suck it up and put on my bravest face, using my time here to show them I could do better. I was sure I could figure out what to do when it came time to cook. I'd watched the chef at home enough times that I had to have picked up a few skills. It couldn't be that hard, right?

"So I'll be staying there?" I asked, wondering why we were driving away from the lodge instead of toward it.

"Oh, no." Rory laughed, tiny, fine lines from a life full of humor and smiles creasing the skin around her eyes. "No, Second Hope is fully booked. But we have a few cabins around the ranch that are empty."

I'd have my own cabin. That didn't sound so bad. I could definitely work with that.

At least that was what I thought until Rory pulled her truck up in front of the building I would be living in indefinitely.

From the outside, the entire thing looked like it could fit into the living room of my old condo, and the inside wasn't any better.

I stopped just inside the door, my heart racing and my throat tightening as I took in the single room that seemed to be the living, dining, and kitchen area all in one. The kitchen consisted of four cabinets, an old-school fridge that was shorter than I was, a stovetop that was built into one side of the L-shaped countertop, and a small sink in the other. There was a tiny dining table to the right of the kitchen, sitting beneath a dingy window against the back wall. It was only big enough for two chairs and was a gross, dated yellow pine that matched the small coffee table and end table surrounding the single two-person sofa in the living area—because that was all there was room for.

The loveseat looked like it was from the eighties, with a blanket folded across the back that someone's grandmother had to have knitted by hand. There was a painting of horses hanging on the wall across from the sofa—in the spot where you'd expect to see a television.

My gaze darted around frantically, in search of the TV, but I didn't see one anywhere.

"Uh . . ."

Rory stepped up beside me, dropping, "Bedroom and bathroom are just down the hall. No one's been in here for a while, so it's a little dusty, but nothing a bit of elbow grease and a few open windows won't fix right up. There should be some cleaning supplies under the sink in the kitchen. I stocked the linen closet in the hall with towels, and the sheets on the bed are fresh. I also had one of the waitresses from the lodge stock a few staples to hold you over until you have a chance to get to town and do some shopping for yourself. You know, coffee, milk, bread, stuff like that."

Well at least there was coffee. There was zero chance I would make it through this whole ordeal without that.

There was just one problem. "I—um, I don't have a car." I would gladly take myself to town if I had the means to get there, but like my apartment, my shiny, candy apple red BMW had been sold, the cost going toward the embarrassingly large sum I still owed my parents.

Rory waved off my concern. "That's no problem. The ranch has plenty of work trucks you can borrow. We keep the keys tucked in the passenger side visor." She laughed when I looked at her like she lost her mind. "This isn't like the city. No one's coming up on the ranch to steal old, beat-up ranch trucks, trust me."

If she said so. I was just relieved I had a way to get the hell out of this place from time to time.

"I'll leave you to get settled. Work starts tomorrow," Rory stated before turning and heading the two feet to the front door of the cabin. I was finally going to be alone for the first time since this whole nightmare started. I'd been keeping a tight grip on my emotions for the past few days, not wanting to crack in front of other people, but it would be a relief to finally get it all out. Hopefully over a bottle of wine and a hot bath. I just prayed alcohol was something Rory considered a staple.

But before she left, she stopped and looked back at me, her features awash with sympathy. "And Rae, I know this may seem like you've been dropped into your worst nightmare, but if you give it a chance, I swear you'll come around. I know your parents really well, and they love you like crazy. They wouldn't toss you in the middle of some kind of unrelenting torture. Keep an open mind, yeah?"

I gave her a nod, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat, and waited until the door closed behind her to let out a wobbly breath.

With no other choice but to embrace this new world I'd been thrust into, I grabbed the handles of two of the four large suitcases in the middle of the living room and wheeled them down the hall toward the one and only bedroom in the cabin. I stopped at the first door on the right, peeking inside at the bathroom. While the space was small and there was only a single pedestal sink beneath an oval mirror, the clawfoot tub was a welcome surprise. It needed to be scrubbed like most of the surfaces in the place, but it was long, with a perfectly curved back for optimum relaxation during bubble baths. The curtain hanging from an oval rod that came down from the ceiling looked as old as the furniture in the living area, but it would do.

To the right and a little farther down was the bedroom. The queen-sized bed took up most of the tiny space, leaving room for a single bedside table and a chest of drawers that didn't look like it would hold even a third of my clothes, all in that same dated pine.

I opened the only other door in the room that led to the smallest closet I'd ever seen. It was so damn tiny you couldn't even step inside the thing. There was a wooden bar stretched from end to end for hangers, and a single shelf above where I was supposed to fit all of my shoes.

I rubbed at my temples and moved toward the bed, shocked when I sat down that the mattress felt like sinking into a pile of downy feathers. The bedding wasn't luxurious, but at least the cotton had been washed enough that it felt soft to the touch. I could sleep here. It was better than the cold metal bench of that holding cell, for damn sure.

My cellphone pinged with an incoming text, and when I pulled it out of my back pocket my stomach sank.

Kendall : Bitch, where are you? Desi's throwing a party at her parents' house in Calabasas tonight. EVERYBODY's gonna be there. Get off your ass and hit me back.

It was the first time I'd heard from my supposed best friend since she bailed on me and left me to deal with the police all by myself, and instead of checking to make sure I was alright, she was texting about another party?

How the hell had I been friends with her for so long? She didn't give a damn about me. She didn't even care enough to reach out. That text was the first time I'd heard from her in three days.

On a weary sigh, I took in my surroundings. It was no mansion in Calabasas, but it wasn't so bad. At least it had a cozy bed and a great tub. Everything else was just details.

Pulling in a fortifying breath, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. I could do this. I could make this work. I could toughen up and make the best of this like Rory suggested, and who knows? Maybe she was right and I'd end up falling in love with this ranch and this town like my parents had.

Everything was going to be just fine.