Page 36 of The Moments You Were Mine
I’d loved the sunsets on the beach in San Diego, but nothing was better than watching the splendor of a sunrise or a sunset on the ranch. White-capped mountains soared above me, fields littered with wildflowers danced in the morning light, and the lake reflected the sky, making it seem like there was no end to either.
I’d needed this—maybe more than I’d even expected.
I felt soothed and safe here. The only other place I felt the same was with Parker.
As quickly as that thought came, I shoved it aside.
Parker wasn’t mine any more than JJ had been, but this place—the land and all I could see—was.
As I urged Daisy up the final hill, the enormous river-rock wall of the estate came into view. The metal gate that arched over the road was swung open, welcoming guests to the resort. Once they passed through it, the wild valleys and forests of the Sierra Mountain foothills transformed into carefully crafted, castle-like gardens with sculpted hedges and flowering trees. Our landscapers had built a little oasis around the gold-flecked pool we’d added to the grounds with Dad’s money. A handful of sleek cabanas provided privacy for our famous guests, and a poolside bar allowed swimmers to float right up and order drinks.
Beyond the pool and gardens, the Victorian castle where I’d spent the first fifteen years of my life stood tall and proud. The curls and flourishes along the golden gables and towers mimicked those on a castle in England that my great-great-grandparents had built the mansion to resemble. They’d used the money from diamonds discovered and mined on the estate in the 1930s, which had made our family one of the wealthiest in California before it had all dried up a decade later.
The castle and grounds had started to crumble a bit just before Spencer had died. With the ranch nearly bankrupt, Dad had stepped in and agreed to help Mom and me convert the ranch into a resort, using the money and experience he’d earned in creating a five-star Vegas resort to help us. I’d talked them into building a small two-bedroom house farther up in the hills for Mom and me to live in rather than continuing to stay in the castle while it was filled with guests.
In many ways, that little house and our time there had allowed Mom and me to restore our relationship as much as I thought it would ever be. We both still had too many scars to allow the relationship to be an easy one, and we both wanted our way when it came to the ranch and the resort.
I was fairly certain she resented I’d been given the land, and I resented that she had a say in what happened to it while acting as my guardian. Sometimes, I wondered if it was because Momsaw me as one-hundred-percent Harrington, without an ounce of her Hurly blood, and because of the hundred-year animosity that had once existed between the Hurlys and the Harringtons that kept us from letting down our guards completely with each other.
It was a ridiculous notion, as if our two families were actually cursed, as Mom’s brother, my Uncle Adam, had once told me. He’d said the curse could never be broken while both families struggled to live on the land together.
Daisy’s hooves clattered along the circular drive as I rode past the centaur fountain. The four mythical creatures were quiet and still now, but they came alive with music and lights each evening, putting on a Vegas-worthy show. Mom and I had rolled our eyes when Dad had suggested it, but it remained a favorite attraction and frequently appeared in our guests’ social media posts.
The paved parking lot behind the house was quiet, but beyond it, the river rock, dark wood, and green-roofed outbuildings were coming alive. The paddocks and corrals would soon fill up with workers and the handful of guests who’d signed up for one of our ranch-hand packages.
As I dismounted, Chuck, one of our new hires, ran out of the horse barn.
“You want me to take her, Ms. Harrington?” he asked with a hopeful smile. The skinny, dark-haired teen had taken to Daisy as soon as she’d arrived from San Diego at the beginning of the month. Surprisingly, she’d taken to him too. My horse was picky about who she liked. She’d never liked JJ.
But I wouldn’t think about what that meant today, or I’d spend more hours berating myself for things I couldn’t change. Spencer used to tell me everyone made mistakes, but how we lived our lives after admitting to them showed our true character.
I was determined to do better.
I was about to decline Chuck’s offer of help with Daisy when my eyes landed on a trio of upset faces standing by one of our ranch rigs.
I handed the reins to the teen and said, “It’s Fallon, please. Every time you call me Ms. Harrington, I expect to turn and see my mom.”
“Okay…Fallon.” The teenager blushed to his roots.
I nodded toward the rig where my dad stood next to Kurt and Teddy and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Not sure,” he said with a frown. “Kurt was real upset when he came in from checking on the cattle. He hustled into the main house and got Mr. Marquess.”
Kurt was upset? What would it take to rattle one of the calmest men I knew? I strode past the corral we used for horse shows and pushed between Dad and Kurt, glancing into the truck bed. My stomach fell to my boots when I saw the bloody mess of what had once been a cow. It had been mutilated almost beyond recognition.
“What the hell happened?” I demanded.
Dad’s eyes shifted to me. “Kurt and Teddy found her out in the west field. We think a cougar must have brought her down, and the carrion birds did the rest.”
“Damn. And we don’t have any cameras that far out to know for sure,” I said.
Dad nodded in agreement. The security and privacy of our guests were of utmost importance to us, and the measures we’d put in place ensured our rich and famous clientele knew it. We had a twenty-four-hour security team who patrolled the main buildings, the lakeside beach, and pathways, and we’d installed emergency phones and cameras throughout the most traveled areas of the estate. The team monitored those phones and cameras from a hut housing a bank of computers. But in truth, it was impossible to cover all five thousand acres of the estate.
“Issue an alert to the staff and guests to be on the lookout for the cougar. Then, send a crew to ensure a mama hasn’t created a den too near the main paths,” I said, directing the order to Kurt.
He raised one bushy brow at the command but didn’t throw it in my face that, as the ranch’s foreman for going on three decades, he had years more experience than me and didn’t need me to tell him what to do. Instead, he simply said, “Already rounded up some folks. They’ll head out after breakfast. Not much salvageable from the cow now, so Teddy and I will bury her in the far field.”
I gave him a smile in apology, saying. “Thank you.”
