Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I crossed my arms in front of me, nodding over at Mr. Marsden, the elderly owner who’d just given me a tour of the place. He stood under a mature maple tree with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, peering at me hesitantly as if he was waiting for me to back out of the sale.
A lot of people had passed on the house before, apparently. He’d told me three times that it was a “hard sell.”
“It’s what I need,” I told him now.
Because it was a house.
With land.
That wasn’t in Montana.
Technically I wasn’t running from the law, because there were no warrants out for my arrest yet.
I was escaping. From the potential of jail time, yes. Also from worse things.
“Definitely is a fixer-upper,” Mr. Marsden said.
“I can see that.”
I pushed my hat back from my brow, wiping away sweat. I’d only been in Tennessee for a day but as far as I could tell, the air was always humid and way too fucking warm here.
Mr. Marsden dropped the cigarette and put it out on the dirt. He started his slow walk over toward the far corner, waving for me to follow him.
My boots crunched on gravel.
I’d found the for-sale listing for this place online a few days ago, before Lily and I had arrived in town.
“Yep. She needs a little TLC,” Mr. Marsden said now, slapping one of the rust-red wood panels on the corner. Dust motes flew off into the sunlight, and I squinted down, noticing another half-dozen broken off pieces of siding.
The place could have been halfway burnt to the ground and I wouldn’t have cared, though.
It wasn’t even just about the house.
It was about the land.
One thing was true of me and true of my entire family, too: I needed land.
Back in Montana, that was the Lyons family’s biggest jewel of wealth. Land that stretched on for miles. Acres and acres, in Big Sky and all other parts north of it in Gallatin County, and a portfolio of smaller ranches around Rollins, too.
The air was so clear up there.
Bracingly cool. Cold, even, compared to the warmth here.
I craved the chill in that air fucking badly, right now.
On the back of Veil’s saddle, riding at dusk on my property up north, there was nothing closer to feeling like a king.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, my chest tightening at the thought of my favorite Friesian mare. I’d rescued her three years back from a failed breeding operation out East. Right now, it was late afternoon, so Veil would be in her stall, probably listening for wild turkey as they crossed the ridge outside the stables.
I clenched my jaw. Veil was safe and well cared for back in Montana. But I couldn’t fucking stand being away from my animals and my land.
And I will destroy every person who’s come between me and that land.
Every lost ride with Veil.
Every day spent down here in the heat, forced to flee my own world?
I’ll ruin their lives because of it.
No matter what bloodline they’re from.
Mr. Marsden coughed as another dust plume floated off from the exterior of the house.
He could have been anywhere between 80 and 200 years old, as far as I could tell, but he tried to move around like he was still 18. His denim was covered in dust now after the tour, where he’d been sure to kneel down and show me the exact places in the kitchen that needed the most repairs, and he’d even shimmied up into the attic for a minute to warn me about insulation.
“Your son was going to fix this place up?” I asked him.
He gave me a wry smile, his wrinkles rearranging in the afternoon sun. “Was going to. Until he ended up U-hauling down to Texas to marry his third wife.”
I hummed. “And now all of this could be mine.”
“Said you’re from Montana?” Mr. Marsden asked as he leaned over to pluck a few weeds by the foundation of the house.
“Born and raised,” I told him.
“What’s bringing you out to Bestens?”
I glanced at the gravel path that led to the dirt driveway. “Also for a girl.”
“Ahh, movin’ in together?”
Not exactly.
“This house will be just for me,” I said.
I set my jaw. I wasn’t going to explain that Lily and I weren’t together. Not in that way.
The more complicated answer was that Lily deserved some peace and quiet, and time away from me. I didn’t know if she’d ever truly loved me, but after she finally ended things with me right when we got to town, there were many reasons I knew she certainly didn’t love me now.
“If you want it,” he said, giving me a wide shrug. “In about a month it should be ready. Got to let the wife come by and take what she wants off the walls, do a walkthrough or two. But it’s about ready.”