“What’s on the stove?” Grace asked.

She looked at me a little di erent now that she knew about my ex. Death always changed how we viewed the world and one another. I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake by mentioning it.

“My specialty. Baked beans, bacon, and hot dogs,” I said with a smile.

Her face remained in neutral. Grace was clearly not impressed with my cooking skills. If I had known how pretty my guest was, I would have picked up something a bit more civilized, but her pro le picture on the site was grainy at best.

“Do you want some?” I o ered. Food was included in her stay if she wanted it. Most of my guests only used the ranch as a place to rest their heads at night, leaving early in the morning and returning late in the evening. It was nice to have someone here for dinner.

Her nose crinkled up but she quickly relaxed it. She shook her head. “I planned on grabbing something in town, and I wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“Nonsense. You’re not an inconvenience. Besides, it’s getting a bit late to be

driving on these roads. Lots of wild animals come out at night.” I grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and lled them up.

“You’re not one of them vegetarians, are you?” I asked, placing the dish and a spoon in front of her.

Grace looked at the food and then up at me. “No, not at all. I just . . . I

don’t really eat this type of thing.”

Taking a seat beside her with my food and beer, I immediately shoveled a spoonful of it into my mouth. e sweetness of the beans, the meatiness of the hot dogs, and the saltiness of the bacon melded together with each bite.

Her eyes were wide, and she hovered the beer right in front of her mouth as if she were trying to hide her reaction from me.

“Just try it.” I smiled. “I promise you’ll love it, and if you don’t, I’ll eat yours too.”

Grace set the beer down and hesitated for a moment before picking up the

spoon. She scooped up a single bean.

“You’ve gotta get the bacon and the hot dog too.”

She glanced in my direction and then dove her spoon into the bowl.

Holding it in front of her, she stared. “Here goes nothing.”

Grace closed her eyes and pinched her nose shut with her other hand and stuck the spoon straight into her mouth. It was rather dramatic, but I’d expect that from a woman like her. While she chewed, she kept her nose plugged and her eyes closed. When the avors hit just right, just like I knew they would, her eyes burst open and her ngers let go of the sides of her nose.

“ at’s actually really good.” She happily scooped up another spoonful.

“I told ya so. You’ve gotta trust me.” I chuckled.

We ate quietly for a few minutes. e only sound was our spoons clanking against the bowls.

“So, you said you don’t eat stu like this. What do ya eat?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Normal stu .”

“Oh, so I’m not normal?” I teased.

She laughed and told me that wasn’t what she meant. “I’m just joshing ya.” I smiled.

ere was another silent period for a few minutes. It was like neither of us knew what to say, or perhaps we were both being cautious with our words.

“Tell me about yourself, Grace,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

She took a swig of her beer and looked at me, her blue, blue eyes xated on mine. It was the only way I knew how to describe those eyes of hers. Blue, blue.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything, but let’s start with, what do you do for a living?” I folded my arms in front of my chest.

“I work in banking,” she said matter-of-factly. “Impressive.” I took another drink, and she nodded.

“Your turn. What about you, Calvin Wells? What do you do for a living?”

She cocked her head.

I liked the way she said my full name. “I do a lot of things. Farming, Airbnb, gardening, odd jobs here and there. Anything to keep me busy and to keep this ranch a oat.”

She leaned back, matching my posture, and took another drink of her beer.

“Admirable.”

“Why Wyoming?” I asked. “Why not?” She shrugged.

I raised an eyebrow, letting her know I wasn’t satis ed with her answer. e corner of her lip perked up.

“It’s silly, really,” she said.

“I like silly. Hit me with it.”

Grace took a swig of her beer. When her gaze met mine again, she spoke. “Every year, I close my eyes and throw a dart at a map of the United States. Wherever it lands, that’s where I go for vacation.” Her cheeks ushed like she was embarrassed or something.

“ at’s not silly at all. It’s like fate.” I let on a small smile. “But why do it that way though? Why not pick a place you really want to go? Heck, you could be in California or Hawaii right now, lying up on a beach with a piña colada in your hand. Not here in Dubois, Wyoming, eating beans and hot dogs with me.” I chuckled.

She laughed too but then got a little serious. Her blue, blue eyes ickered,

and she let out a sigh.

“My life is very routine. Everything is planned and planned again. Every minute of my day is scheduled. is gives me freedom in a way.” Grace tilted her head.

I drank my beer and nodded. “I can relate to that. I had that freedom prior to taking over this ranch. Now everything that lives on it depends on me.”

“Why’d you give up the freedom?” she asked.

It wasn’t a question I wanted to answer. I didn’t like talking about what brought me back, but I gured Grace was the type of woman that would get the answer one way or another.

“Had to. My parents passed away so I moved back about a year and a half ago to take over the ranch.”

Grace swigged her beer. What thoughts were running through her head? In under an hour, she had learned three people close to me had died, and they all had lived on this ranch. Almost seemed as though it was cursed. At least that’s what the folks around town said. If I were her, I’d run for the hills before this land swallowed her up too.

“ at must have been tough,” she said, folding in her lips. “Yeah, it was.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes again. It seemed both Grace and I were comfortable with silence. Most people weren’t. ey had to ll it with words. What they didn’t realize is a person could say so much more by not saying anything at all. She took another drink, and when she set the bottle down, it echoed, signaling it was empty. I considered o ering her another but it was getting late, and I gured I should wrap this up before she asked me any more about my family or my past.

“I must ask: Was picking my ranch random too, or did you throw a dart at the Airbnb website?” I teased but I was serious. I wanted to know if this was fate too, or maybe not fate, maybe a part of the curse.

“No,” she said with a half smile. “I picked this place, Calvin.”

I smiled back and grabbed both our empty bowls, bringing them to the

sink. I was happy to hear it was Grace’s decision to come here. ere are so many things that are decided for us. We don’t choose where we’re born, who we’re born to, how our parents raise us, what values they instill in us, or even how long they’re a part of our lives. I hate that part of life, not having any control over it. It smacks you right in the face whenever it wants, and you’re just expected to take the hit and carry on.

I glanced over at Grace while I washed up the rest of the dishes. She look tired and was staring o at the patio door, almost as though she were in a trance or something.

I shut o the sink and dried my hands.

“Well, I gotta get up early. Cows aren’t going to milk themselves.” Grace stood and tossed her empty bottle into the trash can.

“I’ll have co ee in the pot for ya in the morning. And I’ll leave the bread and peanut butter out in case you want a little something to eat.”

“ anks, Calvin.”

“Need anything else before I turn in?” I started walking toward the hall. She leaned a little and lost her balance, stepping right into me. My arm brushed up against her, sending a small static shock. It was a spark like when you jump- start a car. e two cables. ey’re electric. My heart rate sped up, and I took a deep breath to calm it down. I wasn’t ready for anything like that, I reminded myself. No matter how drawn I was to this peculiar woman, it was too soon.

I looked to her waiting for an answer. I couldn’t go o to bed without making sure she had everything she needed.

Grace shook her head. “I’m good. anks for dinner.”

“Anytime, Miss Grace. You sleep tight.” I nodded and continued down the hall toward my bedroom. It took everything in me not to turn back.