for two reasons. One is that we’re in front of other people. Two is that I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my role.
“I hope all future projects will be this easy,” I joke, covering up my irritation.
“They won’t be,” Brandt responds. I keep a straight face, but on the inside I’m giving him a death glare.
We move on to other topics. Dad informs me of two more projects they’ve got going on. I nod and pretend to listen. My mind is somewhere on Hayden land, watching Wes ride Ranger. Forty-five interminable minutes later, the call wraps up.
I change once again, into jeans and boots more appropriate for the jobsite, and I’m climbing into my car when my phone rings.
It’s my dad.
“Hey, Dad, I’m just on my way to—”
“Why the hell are you wearing a ring on your finger?”
I look down at the gold band, my fingers spread out wide. How dumb of me. “Uh, well.”
“Spit it out.”
It’s amazing how I can be an adult and suddenly feel like a child again. And just like in my childhood, a flair of resentment sparks in my chest. I do not want to be told what to do. “I’m going to marry Wes.” I can’t tell him about the agreement, because that would mean coming clean about my debt.
“What? I… No… Dakota.” Shock.
“Yes, Dad.”
“You barely know him.” Indignation.
“It’s enough, Dad.”
“No, Dakota, it’s not. Can you imagine what your mother would say if she were alive?” Self-righteous.
I suck in a breath. That was low. “I need to go, Dad. I’m working.”
“Dakota, let’s talk about this.” Pleading.
“Dad, I just need you to trust me on this. I know what I’m doing.”
“It doesn’t sound like you do.”
“Bye, Dad. I love you.”
I hang up and spend the entire drive willing my blood pressure to decrease. That’s not how I wanted to tell him. When I get to the jobsite, I send him a text.
Everything is going to be okay, Dad. I know it was a shock, and trust me when I say it’s not how I wanted you to find out. I love you.
Two hours later, he responds. You’ve always marched to the beat of your own drum, Junior. If you say you know what you’re doing, I’m going to trust you mean it. I love you, too.
This time, when the HCC truck pulls up, I don’t think for even a second that it’s Wes. Before I left his place this morning, he told me he, Warner, and Ham were riding out to pasture seventeen to mend fences broken from a recent storm, and that he anticipated it would take all day.
I cover my eyes from the sun, expecting to see Jessie hop out with bare legs and short shorts. Instead, sensible boots and Wranglers are visible under the passenger door.
Juliette?
The door closes and Wes’s mom starts for me.
I sigh internally. I’m really not in the mood for Juliette after talking to my dad. I get up from my chair, ducking my head under the tent and striding out to meet Juliette. She wears a no-nonsense expression that sends a rapid tremble through me.
“Hello, Juliette.” I smile and greet her without a trace of the nerves I’m feeling. I get the feeling Juliette would see any nervousness as weakness and therefore be disgusted by it.
“Dakota,” she greets me, her tone clipped. “Can we speak privately?”
A lead ball forms in my stomach. “Certainly.” I guide her back to the tailgate of her truck. It’s not that much further from the jobsite, but at least it’s out of direct eyesight of everybody.
“What can I do for you?” I ask.
Juliette’s blue-eyed gaze is glacial. Jessie has the same eye color, but hers are warmer, more cornflower and less iceberg. “I find it awfully odd that you show up in Sierra Grande and decide to do a good deed for my son. Tell me, Dakota, why are you falling on the sword for him?”
Wow. Okay. I guess we’re just getting right to it. “I’m not falling on a sword, Juliette.”
“What are you doing then?” She cocks her head to the side, waiting for my answer.
“Marrying Wes.”
“But why?”
“Why not?”
“You don’t love him.” She emphasizes the ‘you’.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that some woman shows up in Sierra Grande and a short while later she’s got my son using marriage as a means to an end.”
I make a face. “Is that what you think happened?”
“I’ve heard how well you researched this town. I’d imagine those researching skills extended to Arizona’s