Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Hawk offers me his arm and we stroll along the wide wooden deck that wraps around the back of the Bellamy parents’ estate. The air smells of pine and sunbaked grass.
“It’s a gorgeous night,” Hawk says, his voice low and rough. “I didn’t realize it was a full moon tonight. It’s lighting up the whole property.”
I lean into him ever so slightly, letting myself bask in the warmth coming off him. “It’s beautiful. I can see why you love it here.”
Hawk nods toward the expanse of fenced pastureland that rolls toward the horizon. “That’s the west range. We rotate the cattle through it in summer. It’s got good grazing and access to the stream that runs down from the ridge. Right now, the heifers are out there. You can just make out the silhouettes if you squint.”
I scan the fields, making as much sense out of the shadows as I can. “I see them. They look so peaceful.”
“They’re spoiled.” Hawk chuckles. “We raise Angus here—grass-fed, hormone-free. Top quality. We’ve always believed happy cows make better beef, and so far that seems to be the case.” He points toward the deck’s edge. “Here. Would you like to see more?”
“Okay.”
I’ll let Hawk show me the entire state of Texas if it means more time on his arm.
He escorts me to the edge of the back porch and points. “See those low buildings down there? That’s the calving barn and the chute system. Most of the baby cows are born around springtime, and it gets hectic when half the herd decides to drop calves in the same week.”
I giggle. “How sweet.”
He looks into my eyes. “Very sweet.”
I don’t think he’s talking about the baby cows.
His gaze lingers for a second too long before he breaks it and gestures again. “And that’s the feedlot, though we only use it in winter. Even then, we stick to natural supplements—barley, hay, alfalfa. Nothing synthetic.”
“I’m impressed. I didn’t know the Bellamys were so hands-on with their cattle.”
He grins. “I grew up branding, baling hay, patching fence lines. My brothers and I didn’t get off easy.” He looks off into the distance. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
As we reach the far end of the deck, the view opens up to a shallow valley where a herd moves slowly in the distance, the sound of lowing carried faintly on the breeze.
“Beyond that rise is a beautiful creek,” he says. “We run the cattle through there in early fall. That was my favorite time of year as a kid—watching the herd move in a single wave through the water and trees. Makes you feel small, in a good way.”
I look up at him as the wind teases my hair. “This place—it’s like something out of a storybook.”
He shrugs. “It’s home. And I wanted you to see it—not just because it’s beautiful, but because it’s a part of me.” He frowns. “I mean, it’s a part of the Bellamys. All of it is.”
My heart flutters. He almost admitted that he likes me. I bite my lip.
Hawk clears his throat. “Maybe we could sit for a little bit. Enjoy our coffee, the evening.” He flashes me another smile. “The good company.”
He guides me to one of the wooden benches that line the edge of the deck. The wood is cool beneath me, a contrast to Hawk’s warmth beside me. He pours coffee for each of us.
“Do you always have coffee on hand?” I ask, taking a sip.
He chuckles, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “I find it helps with late-night paperwork. I don’t do as much hands-on work these days. I do a lot of administrative stuff with my dad.” He frowns. “At least, before his…incident.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. The official story is that Austin Bellamy tried to kill himself, but I’ve overheard whispers from Raven and Vinnie that suggest there’s more to it than that.
For a while we sit in silence. The only sounds are the distant calls of the night birds and the soft rustling of leaves. The coffee is warm and rich.
Hawk reaches over and lays his hand over mine. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I don’t pull away.
“Daniela,” he finally says, his gaze on our hands rather than my face. “I’m glad you stayed.”
His words stir something inside me, a warmth that has nothing to do with the coffee or his touch.
“Me too,” I whisper, looking up at him.
His blue eyes are darker in the moonlight, but no less kind.
“Do you want to see more of the ranch?” He stands and offers his hand to help me up. “There’s a lot more than what I can point out from the deck.”
I hesitate for a moment but then take his hand. His grip is firm yet gentle. He pulls me to my feet and we descend the stairs that connect the deck to the ranch grounds. The moonlight casts long shadows on the ground, making the land seem even more vast and mysterious.