“We’ve got to get some shit done with the cattle,” he said, not seeming annoyed at the fact I was ignoring him. “Which means I’m gonna be late and not gonna be able to make good on my promise.” Some hair moved from the nape of my neck and he twirled it in his fingers.
My shiver had nothing to do with the slight bite in the air.
“Anastasia?” he said after more silence.
“This place,” I said, looking out at the sprawling landscape, at the shadows of the mountains. “It makes me feel different.” I turned my head back so I could take in this man.
Duke wasn’t looking at the view that millions of dollars couldn’t buy. Not even billions. This was a view you inherited, like brown eyes or mental illness. This was a view that couldn’t be owned.
But nonetheless, he wasn’t looking at the view that he held in his blood. He was looking at me. Like I was worth looking at. I hated that. I fucking hated that he wasn’t avoiding me, detesting me. I hated whatever I’d done to make him look at me like that, like I was the view you couldn’t buy.
“No,” he said finally. “Doesn’t make you different. It sheds everything you’ve been pretending to be.” He sighed, finally giving me a respite from his gaze. “That’s the beauty of the open skies of Montana. You can’t stand under them wearing lies.”
It was now that I turned to him, feeling more pissed off than brave. And fuck if he didn’t cut a beautiful profile. Etched out of the land, with the week’s worth of stubble quickly turning into a beard. With that fucking cowboy hat. He belonged here more than he belonged in that city of lies, protecting vapid movie stars like me.
“Why are you so sure I’m telling the truth now?” I demanded. “Why can’t you consider that the me you were so sure you didn’t like was the real me and I’m just acting now?”
Maddeningly, he paused again, either that fucking pensive or trying to rattle me. I’d bet on the latter.
But then he looked. He had the sunset and teasing in his gaze. “Because, baby, you’re just not that good of an actress.”
Then he turned on his boot and walked away, leaving me with a view I didn’t earn, would never own.
8
One Week Later
I hadn’t meant to stop.
I was on a mission to feed the horses. It was something I’d come to love to do and the ranch hands loved me for it, since it meant that they had less to do.
The work wasn’t glamorous, that was for sure, not that I was overly attached to the idea of glamor. Since that was all it was. An idea. A veneer. A thin coating of shine on top of layers of ugly.
I couldn’t remember a moment when I was truly happy, when my thoughts were quiet and my life seemed calm. Until I was feeding those horses. Doing something completely simple for another beautiful being.
So I’d been on my way to do that, find my quiet, my calm in the middle of all of this.
My leg had healed nicely, the doctor had cleared me for doing most things, though Duke was still hovering and overprotective. He’d tried to tell me I couldn’t ride. Tried, being the operative word. He couldn’t be around me constantly, and Harriet proved to be a great partner in crime.
He’d been pissed off when I got back from the ride with Tanner—at both of us. The tension between the brothers was getting thicker, with the novelty of Duke’s presence wearing off. I hadn’t asked Duke about it because I was on my mission to distance myself from him as much as possible, and avoid his sexual promises, despite what my libido craved. I’d actually managed it this entire week. In a beautiful turn of events, one of the ranch hands they’d been expecting to arrive back from college for his summer break had decided to flit off to Europe with his girlfriend. Another had an appendicitis and was currently recovering from surgery.
The ranch was down two men and they were very busy. That meant Duke was very busy—gone at dawn and not back until dinner. Every dinner we had at the homestead, mostly because I was avoiding Duke and also just because I liked it there.
If you’d told me this before I’d arrived, I would’ve laughed in your face. The thought of being alone in a stranger’s house, having to make small talk, having to be polite would’ve turned my stomach. I couldn’t keep up an act for that long. Even villains needed a moment or two to themselves to take off the mask, stretch the facial muscles.
But I didn’t need that, didn’t need the mask. Because they didn’t feel like strangers. None of them. The first few mornings, I’d pretended to be asleep when Duke left. I wasn’t sure if he realized or not, but he still held me tight, kissed my head, and brushed my hair from my face before leaving.