West of Forever (Heartstone Ranch #1)
Corinne Michaels
Chapter 1
Tristan
Sadie
I’m tracking your location and see you’re almost home.
Ilaugh once at the fact that she watches where I am all the freaking time. Kids.
My thumbs tap on the wheel of the truck as I focus on the road. It’s late, it’s raining, and I’m exhausted after driving six hours back from Wyoming, where I dropped off the eight horses we sold. Of course, five minutes after passing the border into Colorado, the rain started coming down. It hasn’t stopped—if anything, it’s only come down harder. Summer storms are really ruining plans as of late.
I turn off the familiar exit, winding to the left before coming to the one traffic light that sits at the edge of the boundary into my hometown of Infinity Ridge, and I finally feel some relief.
Home.
Almost.
Usually the views of the majestic Rocky Mountains that I can see with my eyes closed are like a welcome sign, but right now all I see is rain.
Lots of freaking rain.
I voice a text back to Sadie when I see it’s past ten already. I drove up to Wyoming yesterday, thinking it would be a quick drop-off, that I’d spend the night and be back on the road.
I am. You should be in bed. You have physical therapy tomorrow.
I can picture her rolling her eyes like all twelve-year-olds do when they think they’re twenty and can do what they want.
Lord knows my three sisters were always doing that whenever Mom or Dad tried to tell them what to do.
Sadie
I was waiting for you.
I’ll be home in twenty and then it’s lights out.
Sadie
Whatever you say, Daddy.
That’s a lie. I grab my coffee and toss the rest of it back, then see lights on the side of the road.
Only the vehicle is not all the way off to the side…
It’s still partially in the road.
I’m at a tight curve, and swerving into oncoming traffic could end in disaster.
Shit.
I hit the brakes, hoping the horse trailer doesn’t swing out and cause me to slide, but thankfully I have enough time that I come to a stop about five feet before I hit the truck.
The flashers are going, but with the rain I can’t see anything. Hopefully the driver is safe. I grab my jacket and get out of my truck, pulling my hat onto my head to give me a little relief from the downpour as I go to check on the stranded motorist.
I bang on the window, and the woman inside lowers it, already talking. “I’m so sorry. I know I’m in a bad spot, but I’m stuck in the mud and my tire…”
A light inside her truck turns on, and all I see is sable hair and the greenest eyes to ever exist. For a moment my heart, that organ that hasn’t worked right in years, starts to beat again. Then, as lightning stretches across the sky and recognition dawns, I realize who it is and let my heart go back to being dormant.
If I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck.
Of course, the woman half pulled over with a flat tire is Lark Gatlin.
Lark, the most stunning, kind, and off-limits woman I know. There’s no way in hell I will ever be involved with anyone from her family. No thanks. I don’t need that kind of drama in my life. I have plenty between my daughter and my own family.
I tamp down the desire that always flows when I see her, and I glower, getting soaked. “Is flat,” I finish for her. Her wipers keep going, flicking water at me.
“It is. Thanks for stopping, Tristan, but I’ll be fine.”
Lark is the only Gatlin I am actually even willing to pause to help. If it were either of her dickhead brothers, I’d already be in my dry, warm truck. Their family has been the bane of my existence since the day I was born.
They’re selfish, arrogant, full of shit, and love nothing more than trying to make my family’s life a living hell.
Things go missing, we had instances of vandalism, and the cops show up at my farm every fucking week with some bullshit accusation that we’re targeting the Gatlins, when I’m pretty sure they’re the ones doing it themselves just to make us look like the bad guys.
Even with the generational hate between us, the idea of leaving her here doesn’t sit well with me.
“Is someone coming to help?” I ask.
“I’m sure they are as soon as they can.”
That’s a no. “I’m not going to leave you on the side of the road. Do you have any flares?”
She sighs. “No, I don’t.”
I imagine what my mother would say if she were still alive. She’d tell me to always do the right thing, especially for a lady, no matter what.
Sometimes it really sucks having parents who raised you to be a gentleman.
“Stay here. I’ll move my truck so we don’t all die, and then I’ll change your tire.”
“No! No, you don’t need to do that,” she argues, but I’m already walking away.
There’s no way I’m leaving her stranded on the side of the road.