Sunlight (Haven River Ranch)

There was an email pulled up on my computer screen. The words blurred together into fuzzy gray smudges. This was my third attempt at reading the message. It was from a wedding planner in Phoenix. Her bride wanted . . . something. Every time I got to the second sentence, my mind wandered.

My brain was stuck on that call from Micah.

There’d been an incident with Eddie yesterday. An “altercation,” according to Micah. Meaning another fight. They’d had to sequester him. Again.

Micah couldn’t expand on the details. Eddie’s program came with strict confidentiality protocols. But because there’d been a need for medical treatment, he hadn’t wanted me to be surprised when I saw the added charge on my upcoming invoice.

I’d asked to speak with Eddie, but Micah had told me not yet.

Just keep writing letters.

Was that going to be Micah’s answer for everything? Letters?

The last thing I wanted was to write another note. Every time I slipped one in the mailbox, it felt like sending a piece of my heart into the void, knowing I’d never get that piece back. But if that was all we had, then so be it. We’d get through this. I’d get through this. Even if it meant letters.

So after Micah had ended our call, I’d written a note to Eddie.

It wasn’t much. My letters seemed to get shorter and shorter. Maybe when Eddie replied, when we developed a dialogue through these messages, I’d have more to write. Until then, short would have to do.

After the envelope was sealed and stowed in my tote, ready to be taken to the post office on my drive home, I refocused on my email. Reading it for the fourth time was the charm. The bride wanted to do pictures on horses for their wedding shoot, but not just any horses, two black horses. Did we do that? Did we have two black horses?

Replying to that email meant asking Jax.

I didn’t want to talk to Jax, not again. Not twice in one day. If I wasn’t thinking about that call with Micah, then I was replaying every second of Jax’s visit this morning.

How good he’d looked in my office chair, his jaw stubbled and his hair unruly. Disheveled had never been my type until Jax.

He’d smelled so good too. He always smelled good, but there’d been a hint of soap, like he’d just showered. He’d been apologizing to me while I’d been picturing him naked. I bet he had great abs and a rock-hard ass. I bet he could curl a woman’s toes with a single kiss. I bet sex with Jax was—

“Focus, damn it,” I muttered. Stop thinking about sex with Jax.

“Sasha?”

My attention whipped to the doorway, where Indya was standing in the threshold. Heat bloomed across my face as I gulped. “Oh, hi.”

“You okay?”

I forced a smile. “Great. How are you?”

“Good.” She smoothed a hand over the oatmeal sweater that stretched over her belly. “I have something I wanted to show you. An idea.”

“All right.” I stood from my chair, grateful for anything that would get my mind off Jax Haven. “What’s up?”

Indya walked to the rack in the corner and lifted off my coat. “You’ll need this. And I’m going to need you to keep an open mind.”

“Okay,” I drawled. Ugh. Anytime I was told to keep an open mind, I hated the outcome.

“It’s a good thing, I promise,” she said as I put on my parka and followed her into the hall. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” I lied. I wasn’t sure I trusted anyone at the moment, not even Indya.

“Let me just grab my coat.” She ducked into her office, quickly returning with a tan canvas Carhartt jacket that was so big on her frame it must have been West’s. But it zipped up over her belly, even if the sleeves draped past her fingertips.

She covered her curly hair with a beanie, then led the way through the lodge and to the exit door that opened to the employee parking lot. Her SUV was running and ready.

“So where are we going?” I asked as we both climbed inside, the leather seats warm beneath my jeans.

“You’ll see.” She winked and pulled away from the lodge.

Rather than start down the road that would lead toward the highway, she turned past the stables and shop, weaving through the snow-covered lanes around the resort.

The road hadn’t been plowed, and if not for the path of tire tracks, I wouldn’t have even known this was a road. We were surrounded by a sea of white in every direction.

For a moment, I thought she’d take the path toward her home, but when we passed the turnoff, I glanced around, trying to figure out where we were going.

“You’ve never been out here, right?” she asked.

“I don’t think so, but honestly, with the snow, I can’t tell.” I lifted a hand to shield my eyes. I should have grabbed my sunglasses before leaving the office.

The sun was shining in a cloudless blue sky, its rays catching the blinding white and reflecting it in all directions. If it wasn’t so damn cold, I might have liked the snow. It was clean and crisp. But the temperature on the dash had a minus in front of the number.

I was withering with that minus.

Where were we going anyway? Surprises were not my favorite. At all. Part of me being uptight.

Indya had taken me on a ranch tour after I’d first started working at the resort, but those initial weeks had been a whirlwind. Maybe we’d come out here, but I couldn’t remember now. There’d been so much crammed into my brain over the past three months that it had been impossible to retain it all.

“When I first moved to Montana and took over at the resort, West lived out here,” she said. “We lived in his house until our place was built. A few years ago, there was a massive water leak, and because we didn’t come out often, we didn’t catch it soon enough. By the time we found it, the damage was so bad that we ended up just tearing the house down.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry.”

She gave me a sad smile. “Me too. It was one of the original homes on the ranch. Broke West’s heart the day he had to demolish it.”

I knew what it meant to say goodbye to an important house.

“Curtis lives out this way,” Indya said, pointing straight ahead through the windshield. “Past his house is Alan and Sarah’s place.”

West and Jax’s grandparents were regular visitors at the lodge. While I didn’t know them well, they were always kind when we crossed paths.

Indya turned off the road and onto another. The tire tracks were thinner this way, the road narrower.

Was she planning on an expansion or something? Maybe another building out here for guests? She’d mentioned wanting more private cabins, but this seemed too far from the lodge. Our staff would have to trek out here to clean. And for anyone who arrived without a car, we’d have to provide transportation back and forth. It was too far to walk, especially as she kept driving.

But all of the reasons this wouldn’t work vanished the moment we passed a grove of trees and two stunning homes came into view. They sat in the middle of a blanketed meadow, the forest and mountains their backdrop.

The exterior of both houses was a brown so dark it was nearly black. The barnwood planks used as accents were graying and worn, like those boards had weathered a hundred Montana winters.

The largest of the two had an attached garage and was bigger than any of the other private chalets. The smaller cabin was finished in the same style, with enough space between the two buildings that guests wouldn’t be on top of each other.

While they had a rustic style, it was a bit different than those cabins by the lodge. These had a fresh, modern edge.

Indya drove to the smaller cabin and parked. “Come on.”

I followed her inside, taking off my boots as she did the same. Then we padded in our socks around the cabin. “This is adorable.”

“Isn’t it?” She ran her hand across the back of an oversize leather chair. On a cold day like this, I’d love nothing more than to curl up under a blanket in that spot and read.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read a book. I used to love to read. Maybe I’d take up reading again while Eddie and I were apart. How many books would it take to fill that void? Five? Twelve? Ninety-one?

“So this is my idea.” Indya clapped. “Your current living situation, well . . . sucks.”

I opened my mouth to argue but snapped it closed.

I’d hinted about enough problems with my rental that she knew she was right. Just this afternoon, after Jax had waltzed into my office and rattled my nerves, I’d told her about the water and power outages over the weekend.

“It’s not the best,” I admitted.

“There are still weeks of winter left. The drive back and forth to town is stressful this time of year. And while I’m on maternity leave, your hours could become unpredictable. I don’t like the idea of you on icy roads in the dead of night. So my suggestion is that you should move in here.”

“Here. Here?” I pointed to the floor. The lovely oak floor stained a chocolate brown.

“Yes.”

“What about our guests?”

“This isn’t available for guests,” she said.

“It’s not?” My eyebrows came together. Where were we? “Then what—”

“Just say yes.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Please?”

My gaze drifted to the couch. It was the same leather as the oversize chair. It could use a toss pillow or blanket, but otherwise, that was a couch for Friday-night movie marathons and Sunday-afternoon naps.

Everything was so nice and clean and fresh. Staying here would be a dream.

I couldn’t afford dreams. Literally.

“How much is rent?”

Was I really considering this? Did it matter the price? It would be at least twice the amount I paid for in town. I couldn’t afford this cabin. There was a reason I had a shitty rental. Shitty rentals came cheap. Sure, I was making a fantastic salary working for Indya, but I needed every penny at the moment.

“It’s rent-free,” she said.

I choked on my own breath, coughing for a moment. When I finally cleared my throat, I managed to eke out, “Rent-free? What?”

“I know things have been hard, and I want to make them easier. I can’t do anything about the weather. But I can make your life a bit more comfortable.”

Comfortable? Compared to my rental in town, this was as comfortable as a plush bathrobe and fuzzy slippers.

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth as I glanced into the kitchen. White cabinets with clean lines. Marble countertops. Stainless steel appliances that looked brand new.

Free. Rent-free.

“It’s too much,” I said. “This is too generous.”

“Then you can pay the same rate you’re paying for your place in town.”

“Indya,” I groaned. She wasn’t making this easy for me. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can. Just say yes. It’s easy.”

Damn it. Was it easy? I didn’t even know what easy was anymore. And this seemed too good to be true.

Indya must have read the indecision on my face. “How about you stay out here until after the party? Don’t make any decisions yet. See if you like it first.”

A one-week trial? That I could manage. I was about to agree when a knock came at the door.

Then Jax walked inside.

Wait. Why was he here? Where were we? Who lived in the big house next door? The questions started spinning.

“Hey.” He jerked up his chin to Indya. “All good?”

“Yes?” Indya looked to me, nodding like she was expecting me to mimic the motion.

I glanced between the two of them. No. Not good. Not good at all.

Indya frowned, the hope on her face dying a quick death. “This is Jax’s cabin. He lives in the house next door. I swear I was going to tell you. After you agreed to try it for a few days.”

“Ah.” Too good to be true. As expected.

It was smart of Indya not to tell me that at the start. I wouldn’t have gotten into her car. “Look, I really appreciate the offer. But I think for right now, I’ll stay where I’m at. I like being in town.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. It was nice to be seconds from the grocery store, even if I did my best to go there as infrequently as possible.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“I’m sure.”

She sighed. “Okay. Well, if you change your mind, it’s here.”

“Thank you,” I told her, then glanced at Jax, about to tell him the same. Except he was wearing the freaking smirk. God, I was tired of that smirk. It was condescending and arrogant and fucking hot. Damn him for being good looking.

“What?” I snapped.

“Nothing.” He held up both hands, his smirk stretching. Gah! “Like Indya said, it’s here if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.” I walked over to my boots, pulling them on. Then I waited at the door for Indya to join me.

The ride back to the lodge was quiet. Awkward. Indya didn’t ask why I had an issue with Jax. So far, I’d let her assume it was his chaotic, cavalier persona that rubbed me the wrong way.

Really, it was me.

It was always me. I was the problem.

And it all stemmed from that day at the grocery store. I couldn’t look at him without thinking of that day. About how much I’d wanted a date. Or a kiss.

Why couldn’t I forget it? Why couldn’t he be just another coworker? Why couldn’t we laugh about shopping carts?

Because I’d made it weird. Because I’d turned him down without reason. Because I’d tried to ignore him for months and keep everything strictly professional, but then I’d started thinking about him naked, and what the hell was professional about naked thoughts? Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I wanted to see Jax Haven naked, and that was the crux of my problem.

Well, one of my problems. The list was long.

God, I was a mess.

We made it back to the lodge and retreated to our respective offices. I worked for the rest of the day, and after I’d spent an hour at the front desk, greeting guests on their way to the dining room for dinner, I headed to my car.

The drive home was slow and stressful—normal. And when I walked through my front door, the state of my living room was about as depressing as the balance in my bank account.

I didn’t have a plush leather chair for reading. No couch for napping. No TV for watching. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture in any room but my bedroom. Did an inflatable mattress count as furniture?

I had a lamp. That was something, right? And I had my laptop to watch Netflix. My subscription was the biggest splurge in my monthly budget.

The state of my cupboards was also depressing, but thankfully, I loved cold cereal. Fruity Hoops? Cinnamon Crunch? Honey Nut O’s? My cupboard was stocked with store-brand knockoffs. I pulled down the box of Coco Roos, Eddie’s favorite, and ate from one of three bowls I owned. Then I left it in the sink with an inch of chocolate milk in the bottom.

I’d clean it up tomorrow.

With nothing else to do, I retreated to my room and changed into a pair of sweats. Then I snuggled under my blankets and cuddled with a pillow, watching a movie until I fell asleep.

A pounding on the wall woke me with a jolt. I gasped, sitting up and shoving the hair out of my face.

“Fuck you!” a woman screamed outside.

I crawled out of bed, blinking away sleep as I rushed for the window to peel back the vinyl blinds.

A woman I’d seen a handful of times was standing in the middle of the street, both arms and middle fingers raised as she continued to scream obscenities into the night sky. “You motherfucker! I hope you rot in hell, bitch! Fuck you, asshole! Fuck you!”

“Shut up.” I let the blinds snap into place as I banged my head against the wall. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

For one night, for just one night, I just wanted to sleep without interruption. No power outages. No howling wind. No orgies next door.

No cursing women.

“I hate Montana,” I muttered, trudging out of the room. Now that I was awake, there’d be no sleeping until the shouting stopped. Guess I’d wash my bowl from dinner.

Except I never made it to the kitchen.

Because as I was crossing through the living room, the front door burst open.

The locked front door.

A very drunk, very confused, very large man burst inside.

And vomited on the carpet.

Dear Eddie,

I miss you. I miss your cereal bowls in the kitchen sink. I miss you telling me you’ll wash the dishes tomorrow. I miss your water bottles in every room. I miss tripping over your shoes when I come through the front door. I miss your laundry scattered everywhere. I miss your laugh. I miss your smile.

I miss you.

S