Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
The bartender slides my fresh beer across the counter with a friendly smile. “I’m Trudi,” she says, introducing herself.
“Hi, I’m Violet,” I reply, returning her smile as I take another sip of the pilsner. The atmosphere in Atta Boy Brewery is warm, and despite everything going on in my life, the beer and the surroundings are helping to calm my nerves.
She leans her tattooed arms on the counter, her expression curious. “So, what do you do?”
“I own and run Sagebrush Ranch,” I say with pride, a little boost of confidence returning to my voice. It feels good to say that aloud, to remind myself that I’m capable of running something so significant.
“Oh,” she says, her face softening. “Your father was a great man. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Her eyes carry that familiar look of pity, the one I’ve grown accustomed to seeing since my father passed. Everyone in Magnolia Ridge knew him—respected him even. His absence still lingers, a quiet shadow over every conversation I have with anyone who knew him.
I offer a tight smile and nod. “Thank you.” But the last thing I want is to delve into that well of grief right now, especially not today of all days. The wedding band on my finger suddenly feels heavier. I’m wearing this ring because of my father wanting me married to keep the ranch.
I shift the conversation quickly. “So, what’s it like working at Atta Boy?” I ask, eager to steer things in a different direction. Anything but my father.
Trudi’s face lights up again as she straightens herself. “It’s honestly the best. Callum is an amazing boss. He really cares about the people who work here. All the Atwoods are fabulous, to be honest. They’re caring, generous… I feel unbelievably lucky to be here.” Her admiration is obvious, and I can’t help but notice how highly she speaks of Callum.
The Atwoods are beloved in this town, just as much—if not more—than my father was. A part of me has always known this, but hearing it firsthand from someone who works for them makes it all feel more real. They’ve built something strong, something lasting.
I glance down at the gold band on my finger again, the simple ring that signifies a marriage of convenience. Callum was supposed to be sitting here with me, celebrating this strange new chapter of our lives. But of course, business called. I get it. I truly do. It’s part of why I agreed to this arrangement in the first place. But knowing that doesn’t make the sting any less sharp. Sitting here alone, feeling like I’ve been stood up on my wedding day—even if it’s not a real one—hurts in ways I wasn’t prepared for.
Trudi chuckles softly before turning her back to tend to another customer. “So, I don’t know what’s going on, but good luck,” she says with a wink, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sit there for a moment, staring at the pilsner in front of me. My heart feels heavy with everything this marriage represents—saving the ranch, keeping the memory of my father alive, and now, navigating this strange, new connection to Callum.
As I take another sip of my drink, I hear the soft creak of a barstool being pulled out beside me. It feels strange since there are plenty of empty seats at the bar. I glance over, expecting to see a random customer, but instead, I’m met with a striking woman who radiates a calm confidence.
“Violet, I’m Anya Atwood, your sister-in-law, but you probably already know who I am although we’ve never been properly introduced.”
I nearly choke on my drink, coughing as I cover my mouth with my hand, my head snapping toward her in shock. Sister-in-law. The words hit me like a freight train, and it takes a moment to register what she just said. “Yeah,” I cough out.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you choke,” Anya says quickly, lightly patting my back in an attempt to help. Her touch is gentle, but I can sense the energy behind it, like she’s trying to make a point of her presence.
I clear my throat, sitting up a bit straighter, trying to shake off the embarrassment of almost spitting out my beer. “No, it’s all right. I’m fine.” My fingers wrap tightly around the cold glass of my pilsner. Callum's family. Of course, it was only a matter of time before they got involved.
“So, Callum told you?” I ask, keeping my voice as steady as I can.
Anya nods, her smile widening. “Yes, and I wanted to be the first to welcome you to the family. I’m thrilled for you guys,” she says, clapping her hands together like this is the happiest news she’s heard in years.
I freeze. Thrilled? Does she know the real reason for this marriage? I thought Callum was going to tell them the truth, but now I’m not so sure. Did he change his mind? A pit forms in my stomach. Maybe he painted a more romantic picture to keep up appearances. “Thanks,” I whisper, focusing on the wood grain of the bar, suddenly very interested in the patterns.