Page 1 of The Rancher's Runaway Bride
Chapter One
Layla
The mud sucks at my heels with every step, turning my once-pristine designer shoes into an unrecognizable mess. I grit my teeth, clutching the strap of my hastily packed bag, the lace hem of my wedding gown dragging behind me like a broken promise. What was I thinking? Bolting from the altar in Lake Tahoe yesterday, running from a wedding that wasn’t just a ceremony but an alliance. Power. Status. Wealth. Legacy. My father’s master plan.
Instead, I’m here. Devil’s Peak, Colorado. The middle of nowhere.
The Lazy Devil Ranch sprawls out before me, an expanse of weathered fences, a red barn, and fields nestled in the mountain valley. It’s beautiful, sure. But the practical side of my brain—the side screaming that I’ve made a terrible mistake—can’t stop noticing the muck and the chill in the mountain air.
A dog barks, sharp and commanding, pulling my attention to the barn.
That’s when I see him.
Broad shoulders, rough hands, and a face that looks like it’s carved from granite. Cal Walker steps out of the barn, hiscowboy hat tilted low enough to shadow piercing dark eyes that seem to size me up in an instant.
“This can’t be happening,” he mutters, the words rolling out like a low growl.
“Hello to you too,” I snap back, sarcasm my armor against the very real fact that I might’ve just landed in over my head.
A black and white cattle dog bounds toward me, tail wagging and ears flopping with excitement. Before I can stop him, his muddy paws slam into my midsection, leaving perfect prints on my dress.
I let out a strangled squeak, half laughing, half horrified. “Well, I guess this gown wasn’t salvageable anyway.”
Cal doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, just stands there watching me like I’m some alien that crash-landed on his ranch. His eyes flick up and down my form then he asks, “You lost?”
“Nope.” I square my shoulders, willing the tremor in my voice to steady. “I’m Layla Hastings. I answered your ad.”
His brows lift, just slightly, but his scowl doesn’t budge. “The ad?”
“The mail-order bride ad.”
I expect shock, maybe a barrage of questions. What I get is a low, humorless chuckle.
“Well, hell,” he says, shifting his weight to one hip. “Didn’t think anyone would actually show up, let alone…” His gaze drifts down my muddied dress, and his mouth twists into something like a smirk.
I plant a hand on my hip. “Let alone what?”
“Let alone someone who looks like she got lost on her way to a country club.”
The audacity.
“Look,” I snap, yanking my bag higher on my shoulder, “I didn’t come here to be judged. I came here for… a fresh start.”My voice falters on the last words, but I hold his gaze, refusing to let him see how vulnerable I feel.
Cal’s silent for a beat, his eyes narrowing. Then, with a sharp whistle, he calls the dog–Duke–back to his side. The dog obeys, sitting obediently but still wagging his tail, clearly enamored with me.
“Fine,” Cal says at last, his tone amused. “Let’s get one thing straight, sweetheart. I don’t need complications. If you’re here to play house, this isn’t the place for you.”
“Noted,” I say through gritted teeth. “And just so you know, I’m not here to play anything.”
He mutters something under his breath, then jerks his head toward the house. “Follow me.”
The house is rustic and practical, with wood-paneled walls and furniture that looks like it’s been around for decades. It smells faintly of pine and leather, a comforting scent that matches the man towering beside me. I shift back and forth, foreign sensations spiraling through my system at his close proximity. I’ve never been around a man so…masculine. Cal Walker takes up space, and unapologetically so. I find myself feeling somewhere between uncomfortable and intrigued.
“Guest room’s that way,” he says, nodding toward a hallway. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Don’t touch my stuff, and don’t expect me to hold your hand. Life on the ranch won’t be anything like what you’re used to–no maid, no chefs–life is hard out here. Hope you’re ready for it.”
“Charming,” I tease, brushing past him.
“Charming, huh?” His voice is laced with mockery.
