Xavier had been the talk of the town since he took over the old resort. A giant of a man like that, especially disfigured as he was, taking over one of the town’s biggest properties was bound to make waves. The fact that he’d gotten it out from underneath Ned Cunningham’s fingers was just a bonus for Calla. But the town gossips really hit the roof when they learned he had a woman out there in addition to all those horses, that he’d married her and even renamed his horse rescue after her.
It all seemed so romantic. Something special in a town that was full of a whole lot of dull, hard living.
“That’s a bit of a long story.” The way her eyebrows lifted, Calla could just bet.
“I’ll take the CliffsNotes version.”
Mel flashed her a smile before moving her attention back to the road. “Let’s just say…” her voice dropped off like she was thinking of the best way to simplify something complicated. “Xavier helped my family out when we were in a rough spot. In return, I came out to help him with the rescue.”
“And then you fell in love?”
Mel laughed. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a smooth transition. We didn’t get along at first. There might have been a few days that I wanted to gouge his eyes out. But we got there in the end.”
Calla felt her own eyebrow arch at this. “Now that sounds like a story.”
Mel grinned. “No doubt. Some other time. What about you? You got someone special in your life?”
For the umpteenth time that day, Calla felt her cheeks warm. She shook her head. “Hasn’t been much space in my life for that.”
Mel’s face softened. “I was so sorry to hear about your dad.” She reached out and gave Calla’s arm a gentle squeeze. “How is he? He has Parkinson’s?”
Calla swallowed and looked out the passenger window. Rolling hills covered in scrub brush whizzed by. “Huntington’s.”
“I haven’t heard of that.”
“It’s sort of like Parkinson’s,” Calla said, fidgeting with a fingernail. “He’s constantly got the shakes and is starting to get pretty forgetful.”
“I’m so sorry, hon. I might not see my dad very often, but we were close. I can’t imagine.” Her eyes were full of sympathy when she glanced at Calla again.
Calla swallowed and looked down at her hands. “Yeah, well. That’s life. What are you gonna do?”
“Just keep going,” Mel murmured, like she’d had some experience with the punches life could throw. “One day after another.”
Calla nodded. “Pretty much.”
They didn’t say anything for a long while. Just drove in companionable silence and watched the landscape roll by.
“So, Mack and Liam?” Calla asked, her mind always circling back to the two guys no matter how much she tried not to think about them. “What’s their deal?”
Mel let out a huff and rolled her eyes. “Lord knows. They’ve been like fire and ice since they first met each other. It’s funny too, because as different as their backgrounds are, they actually remind me of each other.”
“How?” Calla asked, more than interested. She pulled her foot up into her lap as she focused on Mel.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Mel waved a hand. “Nicholas and the twins are pretty mellow. Well,” she amended, “Reece more than Jeremiah. But Liam and Mack,” she shook her head. “They’re both passionate guys. You might not think it when you first meet Mack, he’s so shut down all the time.”
Calla was surprised at that. “He hasn’t been shut down around me.” The total opposite, in fact. One of the things she liked about him was his bluntness. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.
Mel looked at her, a smile curving her lips. “That’s the other thing. They’re both these alpha tough guys on the surface. But they’ve got gooey centers. I’ve seen it.” Then she sobered, her hands shifting on the wheel. “I don’t think things have been easy for either of them in their lives. Sometimes I think about the ranch as our own little island of misfit toys, you know?”
“Well then I guess I’ll fit right in,” Calla joked.
“Welcome to the club.”
They were quiet again, just listening to the radio. Welcome to the club. Calla had felt like an outcast all her life, out of step with her classmates and peers. And that had been all right because she had her dad and the ranch.
But what had all that self-sacrifice, putting everyone else’s needs over hers, ever gotten her?
A big fat wad of nothing, that’s what. She was a twenty-four-year-old virgin. She’d never even been drunk. Couldn’t risk having a hangover when there was always so much work to be done the next day.
Screw. That. She was done with living like a nun. She was going to have sex. A lot of sex.
Live each day like it’s your last.