Read a preview
Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The Will
Sloane Ashworth had never smelled cow shit until the day she buried her great-uncle.
The funeral had been small—just a dozen ranch hands in starched Wranglers and one bored Episcopal priest who kept checking his watch. When the lawyer finally unfolded the will in the ranch house office that smelled of leather and lemon polish, Sloane expected the usual: a check, a painting, maybe the Aspen condo.
Instead she got fifty thousand acres of frozen Montana dirt and a ticking clock.
“Miss Ashworth,” the lawyer intoned, “the Cold Creek Ranch passes to you on the condition that you reside here full-time and return it to profitability within three hundred sixty-five days. Fail, and the entire parcel is sold to Yellowstone Club Developers.”
The room went quiet enough to hear snow ticking against the windows.
Across the desk, Levi Callahan—foreman, sixth-generation Montanan, and the only reason the place hadn’t already slid into bankruptcy—leaned against the doorframe like he’d been carved from it. Dark flannel stretched over shoulders that looked capable of carrying the world, or at least one spoiled heiress if she fell off a horse.
His gray eyes flicked over her once. Dismissive. Cold.
“She won’t last a week,” he said, voice low and rough as a gravel road.
Sloane lifted her chin. “Then you’d better start praying for mild weather, Mr. Callahan.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “There’s one additional clause. To access the operating trust—approximately eleven million dollars—you must be married. The late Mr. Ashworth believed a ranch this size required… partnership.”
Levi barked a humorless laugh. “Good luck finding a man stupid enough to tie himself to that.”
Sloane met his stare. “I’m looking at him.”
