Free DEFIANT (A WESTERN BAD BOY ROMANCE) by Scarlet Pierce Page A

whether to be angry or excited; I’m just trying to play it somewhat cool and professional.
    "I'm really busy with production down here. Man, it's a lot different than I thought it would be. It's just too intense. It's a whole different world."
    "That's what it feels like here." I wonder how much Noah has heard about my goings-on in Jackson. I’ve posted a few things on Facebook. He used to check in with me so much it was almost annoying.
    "You’re in Wyoming, right? You made some waves in the city, that’s for sure. People were complaining they lost their best freelancer. So why are you flying to Colorado now? Did you meet somebody?"
    What the hell? Is he jealous? At least I now know he’s been keeping tabs on me online.
    "I'm flying down there on business. The company who contracted me wants me to help with some public relations stuff for their development down there. Among other things.”
    There's a quiet moment on the other end of the line. Then he asks, “How’s your dad?”
    My heart drops. I hate talking about him—it always makes me weepy.
    "He's doing alright, I guess," my voice heavy. "There's been some complications. He had a respiratory arrest, so he's on a ventilator now. They say his heart is so weak that it's likely to cause more complications. Maybe organ failure. There's an experimental bypass procedure they can do, but so far, the insurance company is refusing to cover it. That would be another huge bill."
    All of a sudden I don't want to be here anymore; all I want is to see my father.
    “I’m sorry to hear that, Kate.”
    “Yeah. It is what it is, I guess. How are you? What’s new on your end?”
    “Just working my butt off ten to fifteen hours a day. It’s been brutal…” Noah continues talking about all his LA work adventures, but I tune him out.
    I wish he would talk about us. I want to ask him point-blank what’s up with us, if we’re even an item anymore, if we have any chance of a future together. But I hold my tongue.
    It doesn’t matter. I just need to see this assignment to its end: Vince and Clif need Caddis Flats built, and I need a good reference and a huge paycheck at the end of the day. God knows how much an experimental procedure costs out of pocket.
    By the time we hang up, I'm trying not to cry, partly because Noah doesn’t even mention our relationship, the other part because I really just want to see my poppa. As I walk back in, I realize Clif has been sitting in his office the whole time. He could have easily overheard every word I said through his drafty old window near the balcony.
    I don't look at him as I walk by his office and into my own, closing the door behind me.
    Then I break down.
    Maybe I can't be strong enough for all this. And who knows when my father’s last breath will be—the only thing that’s certain is that I can’t be there with him when he does go.
    I go through several tissues before putting myself together again. Blowing my nose one last time, I crack open my door and sit down to work. I can see Clif on his office phone, listening to someone with a vacant expression. Then he catches my eye.
    "Hold on a minute," he says into the phone. Glancing at me he asks, ”Katie, is everything okay?"
    What does he care?
    I nod yes and look away. He’s the last person I want to deal with right now.

15

Clif
    K atie hasn’t looked too happy the past few days.
    It's a cold, gray, dreary day in Coal Butte. The threat of a snowstorm is looming. All of us—me, Katie, Vince, a crowd of local ranchers and a photographer that Katie flew in—are gathered around in a muddy field, waiting for the reporters to arrive for the press conference.
    I’m sure the weather’s not helping her mood. Katie's standing alone with her arms crossed, looking down at her muddy boots. She's from the city and probably can’t stand being out in the cold slush and cow manure.
    But I know that's not the whole story.
    Something's wrong: she's clearly unhappy and under a lot of