The day I found out I was the long-lost heiress to a fortune, I was herding sheep in Montana. The fake heiress and my supposed fiancé stepped out of a helicopter, their faces screwing up at the sight of manure-dotted fields. "Cassie," she said, her voice dripping with pity. "You must have had such a hard life out here. We've come to take you back to the city." Hard? I pointed a thumb over my shoulder at the vast, rolling mountains behind me. "Ever seen this much land, city slicker?" "Ever seen herds of cattle, bison, and sheep that stretch to the horizon, city slicker?" "Ever seen a real log lodge or a working ranch, city slicker?" "This? This is all mine." I'm no charity case. I wasn't so sure who the rich one was here. The fake heiress just stared, her mouth hanging open. "City... city slicker... that's such a niche term." 1. When we heard the Prescotts were sending someone to get me, my Nana made me put on a new denim shirt she’d bought for me. "My girl," she said, her hands rough but gentle as she smoothed the collar. "You dress nice. Don't want them thinking we're some backwoods hicks." A thunderous roar echoed through the valley, and soon a sleek, black helicopter was touching down in our main pasture. A young man and woman emerged, looking wildly out of place. The woman wore a delicate white sundress and stiletto heels; the man was in a trench coat and sunglasses, like a spy on vacation. I knew who she was. The girl who had been switched with me at birth, Savannah Prescott. The first thing Savannah did was step directly into a fresh cow pie. The wet, green kind. She looked down, perplexed, then bent over, holding her dress. She smiled at me brightly. "Cassie, the soil here is so... unique." "I read online that the earth in the countryside has this wonderfully clean, fresh scent. I'm just going to see what it smells like." Before I could stop her, she dipped a perfectly manicured finger into the "soil," brought it to her nose, and took a deep whiff. Her expression curdled. "Oh. Well, that's... a very distinct aroma. Very... novel." Definitely a city slicker. She'd never seen a real cow pie. "That's manure," I said flatly. Savannah was silent for a moment. Then she let out a shriek that would startle a prairie dog, yanking her foot out of her now-ruined shoe. Forgetting the state of her hand, she hopped on one foot over to me and threw her arms around me in a hug. "Oh, Cassie, your living conditions are just dreadful!" she cried. "You've suffered for so long! I'm taking you home right now." 2. Dreadful? I thought it was pretty great. We had mountains, streams, and more livestock than you could count. In the distance, the peaks of the Rockies were capped with snow. People from big cities paid a fortune to vacation here, and they always looked like they were in heaven. Savannah took in my worn jeans and the calluses on my hands, her brow furrowing with guilt. "Cassie, our family is very wealthy. You'll never have to worry about money again." She was the first person in my entire life to call me poor. I gently turned her face towards the endless expanse of our ranch. "Ever seen this much land, city slicker?" "Ever seen herds of cattle, bison, and sheep that stretch to the horizon, city slicker?" "Ever seen a real log lodge or a working ranch, city slicker?" "This? This is all mine." "A single bison goes for ten grand, a good horse for eight, a cow for two, a sheep for a few hundred. You do the math." Savannah was speechless. A moment ago, all she'd seen was manure. Now, her eyes were taking in the whole scene. It was summer, and the high-country pasture was a sea of green grass and yellow wildflowers. The sun was starting to set. I didn't have time to entertain them; I had to get the flock into the pen for the night. "Cassie, I've never herded sheep before! Can I please try?" Weird. Never thought someone would be begging to do chores. Seeing the sparkle in her eyes, I just waved a hand. "Go for it." She dug a pair of flip-flops out of her designer handbag, carefully tiptoed around the manure patches, and charged toward the flock. With her gone, I finally turned to the boy who'd been silent this whole time. He was tall, with the kind of lean, athletic build that suggested he could handle himself. But his skin was so pale and smooth, he was clearly a city kid with no real work experience. He felt my gaze and looked down at me, his expression cool. "Hello. I'm Landon Hayes." I nodded. "I know. My so-called fiancé." His posture stiffened. "I came here to talk to you about that. Miss... er, Cassie... I don't think we're a good match. I hope you'll agree to call off the engage—" He was cut off by a scream from Savannah's direction. 3. City slickers. They don't even know how to act around sheep. Savannah was supposed to be herding them, but instead, a big ram was herding her, chasing her across the pasture as she shrieked. "Cassie, why is it head-butting me? It's so mean! Help!" I ignored Landon, swung myself onto my horse, and dug my heels into her flanks. We galloped towards Savannah, pulling up beside her. I gestured for her to get on. She tried a few times but couldn't even get her foot in the stirrup. "I don't know how!" So useless. I leaned down, hauled her up, and set her in the saddle in front of me. "Hold on. I've got work to do." "What? We're herding sheep on horseback?" "This is a thousand-acre pasture. You want me to do it on foot?" I held the reins with one hand, and my horse took off, kicking up dust as we expertly guided the flock back towards the pens. Riding is one of my favorite things, but the person in front of me was a non-stop chatterbox. "Cassie, the horse is so tall, I have vertigo!" "Slow down, you're going too fast, this is terrifying!" "This is crazier than any roller coaster!" "Okay, maybe it's not so scary... the wind in my face actually feels... free." Once the sheep were penned, I finally remembered Landon, abandoned in the middle of the pasture. I dropped the still-babbling Savannah at our main cabin and rode back for him. By the time I reached him, the sun had fully set. He was a lonely figure in the vast twilight, looking relieved to see me. "Get on," I said, offering him my hand. He was more agile than Savannah, managing to swing his leg over and settle behind me, albeit a bit clumsily. I told him to hold on to me, but he just sat there, stiff as a board. I glanced back impatiently and saw his cheeks were flushed. "I've... never held on to a girl before," he coughed. So dramatic. Fine, fall off then. I snapped the reins, and my horse leaped forward. Landon yelped and immediately grabbed a fistful of my jacket on either side of my waist. After a moment, he spoke, his voice close to my ear. "You're... really amazing on a horse." "What were we talking about before?" I asked, remembering our interrupted conversation. "Oh, right. You wanted to call off the engagement." The body behind me went rigid. "No! That's not what I was going to say," he said quickly. "I was going to say... we don't know each other very well. We should... get to know each other better." Liar. I heard him clear as day. But I'd heard city folk were proud and easily embarrassed, so I let it go. Savannah told me her parents—my biological parents—wanted me back in New York within a couple of days. But in two weeks, it would be time to move the herds to the fall pasture. Nana was getting older; she couldn't handle a drive that big on her own. I had to stay and help. The cell service out here is terrible. Savannah had to stand on a rock and hold her phone up to the sky to get a signal, but she managed to convince our parents to let me stay for two more weeks. Landon, having nothing better to do on his summer break, stayed too. I went out to fetch some spring water for them. When I came back, I could hear them arguing from outside the cabin. 4. On the table was a basket of something my aunt had sent over. They were green, spherical, and covered in sharp spikes. "I didn't know they grew miniature artichokes in Montana," Landon was saying thoughtfully. "That's not an artichoke," Savannah shot back. "It's obviously a baby pineapple." "I saw them on a trip to Southeast Asia," Landon insisted. "They're called 'mini-artichokes.'" They were at a stalemate, both utterly convinced they were right. When they saw me, they both asked at once: "Is this an artichoke or a pineapple?" I looked at the spiky green ball on the cutting board and sighed. "Has it ever occurred to either of you... that it might be a chestnut?" They both stared, then laughed. "Cassie, don't be ridiculous. I know what a chestnut looks like," Landon said. "Yeah, Cassie," Savannah added. "I've eaten chestnuts before. They're brown. This is green. There's no way this is a chestnut." At first, I was worried Savannah would be one of those scheming, backstabbing types you read about in books. Now, I was pretty sure she didn't have the brain capacity for it. "This is a chestnut in its bur," I explained. "The green part is the shell." Under their disbelieving gaze, I took one and cracked it open with my bare hands, revealing the familiar brown nut inside. They stared, their jaws on the floor. "Cassie, you're a genius," Savannah breathed, her eyes wide with a newfound admiration. I didn't have the heart to tell her that out here, only an idiot wouldn't recognize a chestnut. Nana decided that since we had guests, we should have a proper lamb roast. Landon offered to help. I told him to go catch a lamb. He came back fifteen minutes later, covered in dirt. "I... I can't catch one," he stammered. I sighed, got up, walked into the pen, and came back holding a fifty-pound lamb. Trying to save face, Landon offered to help butcher and prep it. I nodded and told him to hold it down. With one swift motion, I drew my knife. Blood spurted, and he just stood there, frozen, as it splattered across his face. "You know what," I said, seeing his trembling hands, "I've got this." He backed away, looking pale. "You're... amazing," he whispered. "You're not even afraid to do that." "I can butcher a steer, too. But bison are more expensive, so you're not getting that." Two hours later, the lamb was roasted to a perfect golden-brown. The mountain air gets cold at night, so I had them sit by the fire while I carved off two legs and handed them one each. Landon was hesitant at first. "I'm not a big fan of lamb, it's usually too gamy for—" He took a tentative bite, and didn't speak again until he had stripped the bone clean. Savannah was even less refined, talking with her mouth full. "Cassie, this is the best lamb I've ever had! How did you do it? It's not gamy at all!" "Our sheep are free-range. They eat wild grasses and drink spring water. And my roasting technique is the best in the valley. You're lucky." I don't know if it was my imagination, but they were both looking at me with something like hero-worship in their eyes. Nana sat with us. She doesn't speak much English, so she spoke to me in the mix of languages we use. "That boy," she said, nodding at Landon, "he keeps sneaking looks at you." I glanced over. Landon immediately looked away, a blush creeping up his neck. "Looks like your fiancé likes you, my girl." "Nana, stop," I whispered, gesturing to Savannah. "They've been pretending to be engaged for a decade. They're obviously the real couple. I'm not going to be the homewrecker who comes between them." Nana gnawed on a rib. "Makes sense." Our cabin has three rooms. Nana's, mine, and a spare that used to be my parents'. I led Savannah and Landon to the spare. "You two can sleep in here." Savannah blinked. "Together?" Landon stared at me. I nodded. "You're a couple, right? What's the big deal? Is it different in the city?" "Oh, no, that's not it," Savannah said quickly. "Good. See you in the morning." I turned to leave, but felt a tug on my sleeve. It was Landon. "We're not a couple," he said, his expression serious. 5. They both insisted. Savannah said that while they grew up together, they were just like brother and sister. Landon said he hated the idea of an arranged marriage and had been dreading this trip. "Cassie, can I sleep with you tonight?" Savannah asked, clinging to my arm. "I'm scared to be alone out here." Fine. I gave the spare room to Landon. As I was leaving, I turned back to him. "So, you're against arranged marriages, right?" He nodded firmly. "Good. When I get back to New York, I'll tell my parents to call it off." He froze. "Well... I'm not... completely against it." I looked him up and down. "Don't tell me you're starting to like me." He looked like I'd just slapped him. His face went red. "I..." "Don't. You've known me for less than a day. And besides, we don't do arranged marriages out here. I'm sure as hell not starting now." I took Savannah back to my room, leaving him standing there. In bed, Savannah was full of questions. "Landon is so handsome, Cassie. Half the girls at our school had a crush on him. You're really not interested?" "Why weren't you interested? You've known him your whole life." She winked at me. "Oh, I was. I asked him out in middle school, and again in high school. He turned me down both times. Said I wasn't his type. I moved on. What about you? Not even a little spark?" I pulled the covers over her head. "Go to sleep." City slickers. Always in such a rush. Who falls for someone that fast? The next few days, I showed them the ranch. We had new lambs, and Savannah was obsessed, carrying one around with her all day. I taught Landon how to ride. He was a natural, smart and agile, and within a few days, he was galloping across the fields. Soon, it was time for the drive. We had to move the herds from the summer pasture down to the fall one. I tagged the new lambs' ears and checked the hooves and coats of the adults. Landon helped Nana pack up the cabin essentials. The route to the new pasture wasn't long, but there were no roads. At three in the morning, we set out. The herds knew the way, but they were mischievous, constantly trying to sneak bites of tasty-looking grass on the side of the trail until a whistle from me sent them scurrying back into line. The path grew steeper. At the top of a ridge, the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies suddenly filled the view. "Cassie, it's so beautiful," Savannah said, cuddling the lamb in her arms. "I don't think I ever want to go back to the city." At dusk, we made camp. Nana watched the herd while I gathered dried bison dung for the fire. Savannah, curious as ever, was exploring. I told her specifically not to wander off, especially after dark. But by the time I got back with a basket of fuel, I heard her screaming.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "385535", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel