Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)(39)

At least one thing in my life isn’t a complete cluster.

Dutifully, numbly, I reach for the jar of prenatal vitamins. It feels like I’m going through the motions as I swallow one down. It sinks like a lead weight in my gut.

And then, the image creeps.

My entire body freezes.

Fire. Searing heat. Aiden screaming “help me” over and over again.

I ran. I let my bakery burn.

Coward. You fucking piece of pathetic shit.

I shake my head. Squeeze my eyes shut.

No. That’s Aiden talking. Breaking me down. Not me.

The back door opens, and I sigh.

Like clockwork, Ruby peeks inside the kitchen, a sherpa hat with furry ear flaps on her head. Her blue eyes light up when she sees me.

“Hi, Dakota!” Ruby chirps. Her genuine, happy face never ceases to amaze me. She’s like the brightest lemon meringue I’ve ever made.

I force a smile. “Hi, Ruby.”

“You want to walk to the pasture today?” she asks, like she’s done every morning for the last week. A fact that makes me think Davis has put her up to this.

I very much do not want to walk to the pasture. I want to hibernate in bed for the rest of my life. But the baby in my belly won’t let me. Neither will Ruby Montgomery.

Yesterday, we basked in the sun on the front porch. The day before, we met the horses.

I check the time and it’s only eight. I’m due at the Corner Store at eleven to help Fallon with the afternoon shift.

Back to the land of the living.

After a week at the ranch, I crave work. Someplace to get away and feel normal. In my bakery, I was up early and down late. Perfecting recipes, negotiating with vendors, mentoring my sous chefs. To be stagnant and feel out of control messes with my mojo.

I can’t hide out at the ranch forever. Besides, who’s to say Aiden’s even looking for me? He could have let it go.

Let me go.

Maybe what was left of us burned up in that fire.

But I know it’s too easy.

Too easy for Aiden.

Too kind.

“C’mon,” Ruby says, extending a hand. “Let’s go for a walk and see how it goes.”

See how it goes.

The thought calms me somehow, casting a golden glow into my chest. Like I only need to put one foot in front of the other to move. It’s that simple.

“Okay.”

We head out onto the wraparound back deck and down the steps. The morning air is crisp, and sunlight streams through the trees. Ford and Wyatt, on their horses, whistle at us as they load up the horse trailer.

“Today we should see the garden.”

I glance over at Ruby. “Garden?” I echo, casting a glance over the frozen earth. No garden has a chance of survival in this barren Montana wilderness.

At my look of confusion, Ruby laughs. “I’ll show you.”

She links an elbow through my good arm. Barely acquaintances for a week, but already, Ruby’s a friend.

Our shoes crunch frozen grass until we come to a spot in the pasture near the Runaway Ranch gates.

“You’re right.” Ruby’s light voice floats. “It’s too early for a garden, but it’s going to be right here. Sunflowers. They’re my favorite.” She sinks to the ground and tugs off a glove.

I sink beside her and watch as she scrapes back the snow with her mossy green manicure and digs down into the earth.

“Look,” she says, her fingertips stained black. In the dirt, small buds of green grow beneath the melted snow. “Baby blooms.”

“Can they grow in the dark?” I ask.

“No.” She smiles. “But no matter how dark it is, they always find light.”

My heart twists as I study the ground, tracing a finger over the small green buds.

Then we stand.

“Keep going?” Ruby asks.

A wave of dizziness washes over me. I forgot to eat, and I can feel the prenatal vitamin sitting in my stomach like a brick. Still, I force a smile and say, “Sure.”

“You run the social media at the ranch?” I ask as we continue our walk.

She nods, glancing down to study my belly. “For now. I want to open a flower shop on Main Street.”

I can’t hide my surprise. “In Resurrection?”

“There’s a shop across from the antique store,” she says. “It would be perfect.” She gives a little shrug. “Charlie and I are just waiting.”

“For what?”

“For my heart. I have a heart condition. But I had a surgery last year that’s helped a lot. Now we have the ranch and…” Her light blue eyes fall to my belly, a sadness dimming them. “And other stuff to deal with.”

Silence as we walk.

“You own a bakery.”

I shake my head. My heart hammers. “Used to.”

Every award I earned for Milk & Honey pops into my head. Pastry Chef of the Year. Best New Bakery in DC—twice over. My creations pushed the envelope, and I was the best in the business.

But I don’t say any of that.

We continue walking, our breath puffing white as we pass the lodge. We circle behind it and come to a thick grove of fir trees bordering the national forest. It’s like a protective barricade around the ranch. A solid iron fortress of frozen wild.

My breath catches. “It’s beautiful.”