Page 10 of Live, Ranch, Love

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“Are you trying to burn this ranch down?” I holler at Aurora, hurrying towards the back deck where she’s currently wafting a burning stick around. My eyes are painfully trained on its every movement and the smoke billowing from it as I finally reach the stairs. Its familiar earthy scent hits me a second after.

Copper waves bouncing, Aurora pivots, face brightening with shock. She blinks her wide eyes at me, as if it’s too early in the morning for her to be fully awake yet, then sucks her teeth as her expression begins to tighten, taking me in.

After a moment, she lifts her chin, like it took her a second to build the courage to do so, which is mildly amusing. She grimaces. “What are you doing here?”

Well, at least she’s not pretending to be play nice this time. Maybe I’ve officially broken the positivity influencer. My bad.

“What are you doing setting sticks on fire and waving them around?” I counter, folding my arms firmly over my chest, trying to keep my heart from beating out of my chest with frustration from her proximity.

Aurora narrows her eyes at me. “It’s called sage.”

“You named your stick?” I tease, well aware of what it is and that, yet again, social media has popularised an Indigenous practice without considering its origins. But I don’t want to go there right now. Plus, I can already predict that if I show any knowledge of these wellness practices she does, she’ll start squealing or jumping about all happy. Not what I want to deal with this morning.

I can’t keep my eyes off the wad of burning sage, the way Aurora’s handling it so loosely in her delicate fingers, as if she doesn’t live in a house—on a whole ranch, actually—that’s practically made from nothing but wood. I guess at least if she burns the place down, she can’t sell it to one of the too-rich-for-their-boots companies that have been sniffing around. Maybe I’ll even get some insurance money from my own place being destroyed.

Silver linings and all that.

Aurora opens her mouth to speak, then stops to press her fingers to her chest, taking in a deep breath. Do I get a hint of pleasure at the way she has to calm herself around me? Well, it does make her distracting me from my work a little less annoying. I’d only popped back to my place to clean up a nasty cut I’d gotten while fixing a fence when I walked out to see the smoke filtering through the air.

“No, I didn’t name it. This,” she holds it out, “is a smudge stick made of herbs—sage. It helps to cleanse the energy of a space.” Hazel eyes look me up and down twice, accompanied by a smug curve of her lips. Then she waves the smudge stick towards me a few times. “Just trying to rid the house of any unwanted negativity.”

I grind my teeth, but manage to mumble out, “I should’ve used that before you turned up,” with a roll of my eyes. They’re going to end up getting strained if she sticks around for much longer.

“Though,” Aurora muses, ignoring my comment and finally plopping the smudge stick into a bowl to put it out. Thank God. When she glances back, one of her brows perk up. “I’m wondering if maybe I should take it around the whole ranch now… Where have you been working this morning?”

It takes too much force to unclench my jaw. She’s a fiery one today—and no doubt because of what I said to her yesterday. Not that I’d take any of it back, especially since it has awakened this snappier, intriguing side of her. She’s bypassed the sunshine this morning, going straight for fire.

“Whatever.” I shake my head with a sigh. “Just don’t go wafting that thing around the rest of the place. The last thing I need is a fire on my ranch. I’ve got enough to deal with today.”

“Oh.” Aurora crosses her arms and takes a step closer, angling her head at me. Flames dance behind her hazel eyes. “It’s your ranch?”

The sound that vibrates in my throat is practically a growl. “It ain’t gonna be anyone’s ranch if you burn it down.”

Another sneer is thrown my way before Aurora unfolds her arms and moves away. She swipes her phone up from where it was sat on the swing, perusing whatever is on the screen like my presence is suddenly boring her.

I guess that’s my cue to leave… but part of me kind of wants to stay for a moment longer, just to annoy her. I don’t particularly like myself for it, but I also don’t particularly like having her here. And as expected, Aurora flicks a glare up at me, hazel eyes tightening as I hold her stare, giving me a shot of satisfaction.

She finally lets out a squeaky huff, stuffing her phone into the back pocket of the denim shorts she’s wearing. Incredibly short shorts, actually, that show off almost every inch of her toned legs…

Not that I’m particularly affected by them. Even if it does take me a second longer than I’d like to admit to tear my eyes away.

“Don’t worry,” she concedes, heading towards the back door. “I’m not planning on using the smudge stick anywhere else. I was only trying to cleanse the house for when the guy from Crestland gets here.”

Alarm bells immediately blare in my head.

“No!” I basically leap in front of Aurora with my arm out to stop her without thinking. But where I was aiming to place a hand against the door, it ends up making contact with her, and before I know it my fingers are wrapping around her arm.

Face plastered with shock, Aurora gawks down at where I’m harbouring her forearm, dwarfed in my grasp. Her skin has suddenly prickled, as well as along my own arm, and the heat of her makes my palm tingle… like a warning that this girl might burn me.

She doesn’t tug away though, just stares.

As do I, watching where I’m holding her.

Because I never expected to ever really hold her.

And neither did I want to know how it felt—

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