Page 1

Chapter 1

Addison

I’m notexactly aranchgirl. Country, rural, farm life—whatever you want to call it. It’s not the life I lead. Or aspire to. In any capacity.

That’s the main reason why I haven’t stepped foot on Thatcher Ranch since I was a little kid, despite the family connection. The only reason I’m here now is because my mother insisted—read,ordered—I spend the summer here. For reasons that … well, let’s just say that I don’t exactly agree.

The Uber pulls to a stop, and it takes me a minute to realize that he isn’t just simply at a stop sign or taking a slow turn. He’s stopped. As in, my destinationhas arrived.

I look up from my phone, glancing out the window in curiosity. Spread out before me is absolutely nothing. And I mean nothing. Not a building in sight. Simply sprawling fields in every direction. I even see a couple cows.

I clear my throat. “Um … is this it?” I ask.

The driver nods.

“Shouldn’t there be a … house or something? I’m supposed to be staying with my aunt,” I clarify, as if he cares.

He points to a small sign beside the road. It reads,Thatcher Ranch.

I huff. “There’s gotta be another entrance.”

The driver shrugs. “This is where the map is taking me.” He holds up his phone for proof.

I glance at it. He’s right. But the map can’t be. “There has to be somewhere else you can take me. Maybe just down the road a bit.” I wave vaguely in that direction.

The driver shakes his head. “This is where the map tells me to stop. Besides, this is private property.”

“Private property owned by my family,” I say.

He shrugs again, and I can feel my irritation growing. After a few heartbeats of tense silence, I ask, “You want me to just get out … here?”

The driver shrugs. Again.

“But … there’s nowhere for me to go.”

“Unless you have a different address you’d like me to take you to …” The driver shrugs.

I look down at my phone, pulling up my aunt’s number and dialing. After a few tense seconds of waiting, it goes to voicemail. “Shit,” I mutter. I dial my cousin’s number. Voicemail as well.

Frustration getting the better of me, I swing the car door open and stomp out. “Fine,” I mutter, grabbing my purse and slinging it over my shoulder. The driver gets out, popping the trunk and pulling out my suitcase for me. The least he could do, I suppose.

I take the handle fromhim silently.

“Have a good one,” he says cheerily before sliding back into his seat.

I don’t respond, simply turn in the direction of the Thatcher Ranch sign and begin pulling my suitcase down the dirt road. It scrapes against the gravel, throwing up a small cloud of dust in my wake, but I refuse to be slowed down. The Uber drives off, leaving me alone in the absolute middle of nowhere.

I trudge down the road, fields on either side of me, a nearby cow looking up from its grazing to take me in. “What?” I snap at it. “You trying to make my life miserable too?”

It blinks.

I sigh. I’m yelling at a cow, for God’s sake.

I continue on my way, hoping against hope that I’ll see some kind of building around here soon. The cows become more and more plentiful the farther I go. They’re everywhere. Which makes sense for a cattle ranch, I suppose. My gaze zeroes in on one of them. Large, tall … and heading straight toward me.

No. It’s not a cow at all.

It’s a … cowboy?