Page 11 of The Runaway and the Rugged
“That was totally uncalled for, and I’m so sorry.” With utmost sincerity, I shot him a sympathetic look.
“Don’t worry about it, ’cause you’re spot-on with your assumption, sunshine.” He sent me a wink, but beneath that wink, I noticed a sadness lingering in those eyes.
Heartbreak?
Whatever it was, I had no business asking.
That’s why the rest of the ride was spent in silence. I was too embarrassed, he felt too exposed, so the next twenty or so minutes dragged on painfully slow until something came into view.
“Home sweet home.” Beau grinned, his head slightly nodding toward the left side of the road, causing my eyes to follow.
It was the first sign of life that I had seen in miles since we drove through the small town of Dusty Meadows. And by life, I meant an archlike gateway that resembled something out of the Wild West.
As we approached the wide entrance of a driveway, I inclined my body forward to get a better look. The only word that I could use to describe what I was looking at was impressive. An entrance crafted of tall stone pillars, dark wood, and rustic metals, it exuded rugged beauty.
Above the gate, a weathered sign with fancy carved words hung from the center of the arch. “Hideaway Haven Ranch…” I read under my breath just before we had passed underneath it and headed down the long, dusty driveway.
As the terrain became rough and uneven, Clarke was quickly jolted awake when her head thumped against the passenger side window.
“Ow, fuck!” she shouted, her hand now cradling her head as she blinked her eyes into focus. Both Beau and I turned in her direction.
“Shit, sorry about that. Told Greta that we need to get a skid steer out on this driveway.”
Clarke groaned in response.
“Where are we?” she grumbled before peering out the window.
“Hideaway Haven Ranch.” Beau beamed as he tore down the road, sending dirt and whatever other particles into the air around the truck.
Never in my life had I seen so much gravel and dirt in one place. I don’t even think we're on the same continent anymore. Maybe even a planet, as I absorbed the scenery surrounding us through clouded windows.
“A ranch?” Clarke scoffed in disbelief. “Like, with horses and cowboys?”
“Lot more to it than that, but you’re on the right track.”
What the hell?
I shot Clarke an incredulous look, and almost instantly she was mirroring my reaction. Ending up in the heart of Texas, I couldn’t shake the skepticism. Yet, I chose to give Nathaniel the benefit of the doubt, imagining something entirely different for what he had planned. Somewhere elegant and refined that complemented the Bettencourt name. But instead, here we were, riding down a gravel-covered driveway with a herd of cattle on one side of the truck, while the other was obscured by Beau’s cowboy hat.
None of this made sense. Not even the made-to-measure, fancy entrance was enough to make it believable for me to think my fiancé had come here.
“So, you’re telling me, Nathaniel Bettencourt, my very polished, pristine, can’t stand the smell of animals, fiancé came here? To a ranch?” I stared disbelievingly into the side of Beau’s head while trying to formulate in my head how he would have even come across a place like this.
To make matters worse, the smell of horse shit was beginning to permeate the air in the truck, making this situation even more outlandish.
“Stayed over an hour too.” He chuckled, but I couldn’t find the humor in his words. With my expression blank, I waited for a more believable answer.
His eyes darted to mine in a synchronized set of three, each gaze softening with understanding.
“Yes, he came here.” His tone was authentic, free of any flippancy. “Greta should be at the lodge waiting for us and will explain everything.”
“Who’s Greta?”
His mouth lifted into a relaxed grin.
“Boss lady. She runs the ranch with her brothers,” he explained while gassing the truck up an incline before slowly descending us farther down the driveway.
Boss lady? Brothers? It was an onslaught of information, but before I could even digest it, a compulsion to look ahead seized all my thinking. With a swift swivel of my head, I had captured the tail end of Beau’s wiper blades cleaning off the windshield. And with one final swipe, I had caught sight of one of the most beautiful scenes I had ever laid my eyes on.
