Cash (Lucky River Ranch, #1)

by Jessica Peterson

I pick up a sun-bleached photo of Mollie. She was really fucking cute as a kid. Blonde pigtails. Big smile that showed off the two front teeth she was missing. There are countless photos of her on horseback. More’n a little shocking to see City Girl cheesing it on top of a gorgeous, spotted Appaloosa. But she looks at ease in the saddle. Happy, even. Wonder if she misses it. The horses, the sunshine. The wide-open spaces of life in Hill Country. I shove that thought aside in an attempt to ease the ache in my chest.

What if I die before I have a chance to make my dreams come true? What if I’m not able to save Rivers Ranch? What if I never have a family of my own? No-strings sex suits me just fine for now. I wanna get laid, I got calls to make. Sometimes, though, I wish I had someone who slept in my bed for more than a night. I wish I had a person—the person—to talk to and take care of. Someone who’d take care of me too. Life is heavy. It’d be nice not to have to face it alone for once. Not like it matters. I’m too damn busy taking care of everyone else to even think of adding a girlfriend to the mix. Maybe that’s why Garrett stayed single after his divorce. Still, I wonder why the hell he left these pictures to me and not to Mollie or Aubrey. What is he trying to tell me? Is he trying to teach me some kind of lesson? Show me a way to avoid making the same mistakes he did? Or was this some sort of clerical error, a typo in the will that was never fixed?

She’s gotta regret not trying harder with her dad. What the fuck is wrong with her, not visiting even once? The man clearly adored her, but she couldn’t be bothered to come see him. She sure enjoyed the fruits of his labor, though. I saw the checks he sent to the University of Texas. Heard him negotiating with real estate agents to buy her the condo she wanted in a ritzy part of Dallas. Red-hot anger sweeps through me. I’d be thrilled just to see my parents again. But nothing, not even the most extravagant gifts, was ever good enough for Mollie.

“These were in the safety-deposit box.” Digging into the bag, I pull out a picture of Garrett and Aubrey line-dancing and hold it up. “Not what I was expecting, but⁠—” “Garrett was a complicated man, I know.” Goody closes the door behind her. “You all right?” I nod, swallowing. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be just fine.” “How like you to say that.” She offers me a soft smile. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“What can I help you with?” I manage. “I have some news.” My stomach dips. I place the photo in the bag and zip it up. “Good or bad?” “Depends.” I can’t read her expression. Her eyes have this funny, knowing gleam in them. Turning, I lean the backs of my legs against my desk and cross my arms. “Let’s get it over with, then.” “Mollie’s coming to the ranch.”

I run a hand over my face. “To stay?” Goody takes a sharp, short breath through her nose. “I asked her that when she called this morning, but she just said she wanted to ‘get a lay of the land.’ I don’t know for sure if that means she’s staying, but considering what’s at stake…yes, I’m guessing she’ll be at the ranch for a while.” I grit my teeth, biting down so hard my back molars light up with a flash of pain. “What the hell are we gonna do with her?” “I reckon we’ll figure it out. She owns the place, so…”

“What if she doesn’t end up staying the whole year? Who gets the trust then?” “Garrett did not leave it to you, if that’s what you’re asking.” “That’s not my question.”

“He has a plan for the money. We’ll cross that bridge if we get there.” “When. When we get there. City Girl ain’t gonna last a day. The will said she had to actively manage the ranch, right?” “Cash.” Goody’s tone is laced with warning. “I don’t need to tell you to play nice, right?” “I ...

“Why do you think Garrett told me I’d get the ranch if he never intended for me to have it?” Goody thinks on this for a minute. “I’m not sure, Cash. Who knows what he intended? It’s entirely possible he did want the ranch to go to you, but he didn’t think he’d die before he amended his will.” “Maybe.”

“Whatever the case, it will all work out.” Goody claps me on the shoulder. “Mollie arrives tomorrow, mid-afternoon. I’m going to get the New House ready.”

Patsy and John B are like family at this point. Really, the only family we have left. I don’t want to risk losing them if Wyatt does what he always does with girls and breaks Sally’s heart. “I feel like everyone still thinks Sally’s seventeen. She’s a grown woman now. She wants to have some fun, I say let her.” Goody eyes me as she reaches for the door. “Ever thought of taking your own advice?” “Sure have.” I dig a pen out of the drawer and shove that in the back pocket of my jeans, along with the checkbook. “I’m about to have a lot of fun with City Girl.” “I’m serious, Cash. You’d be smart to make Mollie an ally, not an enemy.” Jogging to the door so I can open it for Goody, I hold out my arm. “After you, sugar.” Goody chuckles again. “Allies. Please.”

The house is cool, but not at all quiet. Voices ramble down the long, wide hallway ahead. I follow Goody toward it, taking in the house as we go. It’s huge, and it’s got Mom’s fingerprints all over it. I recognize the twelve-foot ceilings from the house she built in Dallas. The iron light fixtures, exposed stone walls, and enormous windows too. Even the furnishings look like items she would’ve picked out: antique chairs, neutral upholstery, lots of pillows. I frown. Everything is in pristine shape. No way Mom picked it all out twenty-plus years ago? Goody must read my mind, because she says, “Recognize any of this?” “I’m not sure, to be honest.” “Your dad didn’t change a thing after you and your mom left. To be fair, he didn’t live here for very long after that either. He preferred your grandparents’ place.” “He moved back to the farmhouse?” Goody dips her head. The voices get louder. “He did.”

No question he’s Cash’s brother. He’s got the same build: big shoulders and broad chest. But unlike Cash, he offers me a friendly smile. “Nice to meet ya, Mollie. Ella, can you say hi?” Ella doesn’t say anything, but she also smiles, a mirror image of her father’s, dimples and all. I wave at her. “Hi, Sawyer. Hi, Ella. How old are you?” Sawyer helps her hold up three fingers. “Just had a birthday, didn’t we?” “Ella get more presents?” the little girl replies. We all laugh.

I feel myself tilting into a death spiral of regret and grief. My eyes burn. I can barely breathe around the moon in my throat. I am in a room full of people who had a closer relationship with my father than I did. And none of them are even related to him. It makes me feel like absolute shit. But just as I’m about to actually burst into tears, the back door opens.

The men are alarmingly dirty and even more alarmingly handsome, despite the sweat and the dust and the, er, outdoorsy smell that rises off them. My heart pounds. How many Rivers boys were there? Four? Twelve? And when is Cash going to walk through that door? Is he going to walk through it? What do I say to him?

The last cowboy to enter the kitchen is the tallest. He’s wearing a T-shirt of indeterminate color that’s dotted with sweat. It’s not soaked through, so I get the impression he must’ve changed before coming to lunch. But the shirt still clings to his chest and his stomach, revealing a thickly muscled torso. His jeans—those cling to him too. Add in the cowboy boots and the wide leather belt and the way he holds his hat to his chest⁠— “Cash!” Ella shouts with delight, holding up her arms. “Ella hold you!” I watch, head spinning, as Cash aims a wide white smile at the little girl before dropping his hat on the table, crown up, and scooping her into his arms. “Ellie belly boo, I missed you! How was school?”

Lol

This cannot possibly be the same asshole cowboy I met in Goody’s office last week. “Ella loves school,” the little girl replies. Sawyer grabs a cup from across the table and takes a sip of water. “Probably because she’s the teacher’s pet.” Cash puts her on his hip, arm slung easily underneath her bottom like he’s done this hundreds, thousands of times. “How could she not be? You’re the smartest and the cutest kid in the class, aren’t you?” He tickles her tummy. “Aren’t you, Ella?” She giggles, a high, happy sound that’s so sweet, I can’t help but smile, even as I continue to stare. That’s when Cash looks up, and our gazes lock. My stomach bottoms out. His smile fades, his eyes taking on a hard glint. They flick down my body. Back up. His jaw tics, as if he doesn’t like what he sees.

Goody smiles at him. “You remember Mollie, Cash?” “How could I forget?” He says it like a joke. Like I’m a joke. “Hello, City Girl.”

Not gonna lie, my heart skips a beat at the fire that ignites in Mollie’s brown eyes at the insult. “I’d prefer you not call me names,” she clips, crossing her arms. Didn’t think it was possible, but she’s wearing an even more ridiculous outfit than the one she wore to Goody’s office last week. Today, it’s a very short, very tight dress, huge earrings, and a pair of tall purple boots.

Mollie’s outfit shows too much leg and not nearly enough judgment. Way too much leg. Or maybe not enough. Ignoring that thought, I hand Ella back to Sawyer. “I’d prefer you get back in your big, fancy car and go back to your big, fancy city.” “Cash.” Patsy gives me a warning glare. “You best mind your manners, cowboy, or you won’t be welcome in my kitchen.”

Despite the panic swirling in my gut, I manage to grunt, “Yes, ma’am.” “Mollie, I apologize,” Patsy continues. “Cash sometimes takes a minute to warm up to strangers. These are his brothers. Cash is the oldest, and that there is Wyatt—he’s next in the birth order. And then there’s Sawyer, who you’ve already met. Then Ryder and Duke, the twins.”

“Five of y’all? No girls ever came along?” “We felt sorry for our mama too.” Ryder shakes his head. “But if anyone could handle us, it was her.” “Your mom, she⁠—” “Passed.” Wyatt runs a hand over his face. “Twelve years ago this October. She and our dad died in a car accident.” Mollie blinks again. She looks up, her eyes catching on mine for a beat before she looks away. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Y’all must’ve been really young.” “Ryder and I were fourteen, yeah,” Duke says. “Didn’t seem young at the time, but looking back…” “I can’t imagine how awful that must’ve been,” Mollie says. “I don’t know what to say.”

Goody glances at me, then at Mollie. “Why don’t we have some lunch? I think y’all must be…hungry. Then the three of us can sit down and talk about the transition.” “Is there anyone else I can talk to?” Mollie doesn’t break eye contact with me. Girl ain’t afraid—I’ll give her that. “I get the feeling Cash won’t be exactly helpful in showing me the ropes.”

“The help you need ain’t the kind of help I can provide, Mollie.” “You can call me Miss Luck, Cash. And that’s too bad, isn’t it, considering I’m your boss now?” Wyatt rubs his hands together. “I like where this is going.” “Shut up.” I turn back to Mollie. “Miss Luck, with all due respect⁠—” “Lord save us, here it comes,” John B mutters. “I really do think it’s best you go back to Dallas. You clearly don’t belong here⁠—” “Enough.” Patsy’s voice cuts through the tension in the room like a warm knife through butter. “Goody is right; let’s eat. Maybe with a full belly, Cash will recognize that his mama—God rest her soul—raised him better than this. If he doesn’t, well…” She thwacks her wooden spoon against her palm.

I glance at Mollie and see her watching us, arms still crossed, her lips twitching. City Girl’s loving this, us acting like the idiot cowboys she assumes we are. I give Wyatt a discreet kick to the shin. Not only do I need him to behave in front of City Girl, but I also need him to cool his jets with Sally. They’ve been friends since they were kids, so I don’t mind a little flirtation. But ever since she got back from her residency, he can’t stop looking at her. I know that gleam in his eyes. It ain’t friendly—I’ll say that much.

John B claps his hands. “All right, y’all, dig in. We got a real treat today. Patsy made her famous chicken-fried steak with white gravy. The potato salad’s got eggs in it, Ryder, so you wanna stay away from that. Brownies are Sally’s recipe. No, Cash, you can’t have more than three. I think that covers it?” I extend my arm, holding my brothers back as I nod at Mollie. My eyes slip to her legs again. They’re long. Flawless. Not a freckle or scar in sight. “Ladies first.” When I look up, I see her eyes are narrowed. “Why do I get the feeling you’re insulting me?” “Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Luck. I’m just being polite. That’s how my mama raised me.” I nod at Patsy, who’s shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

Someone punches my shoulder. Duke, if I had to guess. “Excuse my brother.” Yep, it’s Duke. “He doesn’t know how to act around beautiful women. Last girl he was with⁠—” “Don’t.” I curl my right hand into a fist. Pray for the patience I need to handle my brothers without committing an act of homicide. Sally loops her arm through Mollie’s and pulls her to the food. “Ignore them. Sometimes, there’s a bit of a Seven Brides for Seven Brothers vibe going on here.” She tosses me a look over her shoulder. “Some people forget how not to be heathens. They’ll get better, I promise.” I watch Mollie pick up a plate, which she fills with a big pile of Patsy’s green beans and…nothing else. Skips the steak, the potato salad. Even the brownies, which she looks at longingly before turning away. If I didn’t hate Mollie Luck before, I despise her now. She won’t even try the brownies? Why the fuck not? Her Pilates instructor threaten to excommunicate her or something if she eats chocolate? And what about Patsy’s steak? How rude to not even put one steak on her plate.

Goody, being the consummate lawyer she is, takes over the conversation at the table. She fills Mollie in on things the owner of a ranch should already know: staff, seasons, equipment we own, equipment we lease. Goody goes around the table and has each of us describe what we do and the tasks we complete on a daily basis. Mollie nods politely as she chews on her green beans. She doesn’t say much. Doesn’t ask any questions. A couple of times, I catch her glaring at me over the rim of her water glass. And a couple of times, I catch myself wondering how far up her legs that little dress of hers rode up when she sat. If I looked under the table, what would I see? Christ, I need to get laid. Been too long, clearly, if I’m fantasizing about City Girl’s legs. But the fact that they’re flawless means she’s not used to manual labor. Or being outside, for that matter. My brothers and I, we’re beat up and bow-legged from spending most of our time on horseback.

“Welp, Miss Luck, since you’re here to see your ranch, let’s get to it. Sawyer, tack up an extra horse.” I bite back a laugh at the flicker of panic in Mollie’s eyes. “A horse? For me?” “Cash,” Wyatt says. “Just take the ATV. It’s too hot⁠—” I hold up a hand. “ATV can’t get where we’re goin’.” “I don’t ride,” Mollie says. “Or I haven’t ridden in…a really long time.” “You best pick it back up if you wanna run this ranch.” She stares at me, nostrils flaring. That fire. Fuck me if it don’t make my skin feel two sizes too tight⁠—

“What about taking my car?” she asks. “It’s got four-wheel drive⁠—” “Too big.” I shake my head. “Ask anyone in here. You wanna get the lay of the land, you gotta do it on horseback.” Mollie glances at Goody, who grimaces. “He’s not wrong. But the tour can wait perhaps? There’s some paperwork we should go over⁠—” “Don’t have time. We either go now or we don’t go at all.” I get up and start grabbing plates, stacking them on my forearm.

“That was delicious, Patsy. Thank you.” “You sure you got enough to eat?” Patsy asks. I step around Mollie and head for the sink. “There’s no food court on the ranch, Miss Luck. You get hungry, you’ll be SOL.” “Oh? So no Auntie Anne’s Pretzels, then?” She cocks her head, spearing me with a glare. “Never would have guessed. I’ll be fine.” Duke chuckles. “You’re a feisty one, ain’t you, Miss Luck?” “I prefer the term spirited.” “Self-possessed,” Goody adds. I turn on the faucet. “You know what we do with spirited horses here on the ranch?” Mollie lets her plate fall with a clatter beside the sink. Leaning her hip into the counter, she crosses her arms. “I’m not a horse.” “We break them.”

“And you know what happens to people who are out of a job? They go broke.” Sawyer claps his hands. “Dang, she’s clever.” “I told you to tack up the horses.” Mollie purses her lips. “You’re really doing this.” “Yes, I’m really taking time out of my day to show you around your ranch. You’re welcome.” “Fine.” I feel her looking at me for a beat as I bend down to load the dishwasher. “I’ll ride. But Goody comes with us. Whatever plan you had to ditch me or feed me to a bear or whatever isn’t going to happen.”

“We don’t have bears on the ranch. But we do have bobcats. And coyotes. And rattlers big enough to take out you and your horse.” “Won’t be the first snake in the grass I’ve encountered here.” The reply is quick, a slap just firm enough to make my skin tingle. Sally grins. “I like her.”

Lol

“You with the circus?” I ask, looking Mollie up and down as she strides into the horse barn alongside Wyatt. “Even Dolly Parton doesn’t dress like Dolly Parton all the time.” “Don’t you dare speak ill of Dolly.” Mollie slips her thumbs through the belt loops of her skinny jeans. “And the only clown I see is you.”

“Dolly is a goddamn treasure. I’d never insult her. But she’s not out here riding horses and working cattle in her big fancy getups, is she?” Mollie’s eyes go a little wide as they move over the horse. “Working cattle? That mean what I think it does?” I meet Sawyer’s gaze. It’s all I can do not to grin. She’s gonna hate this. “Means we’re handling the cows. Moving them from pasture to pasture. Takin’ care of sick cattle, finding lost ones, that kind of thing.” Wyatt leans an elbow against the stall. “For the record, Miss Luck, I like the look.” I don’t. She’s gonna be uncomfortable and hot as hell in her skintight jeans and long-sleeved denim shirt that’s unbuttoned practically to her navel. A lacy purple bra peeks through. It matches her purple boots and the ridiculous feathered band wrapped around her pristine Stetson.

She smiles. “Thank you, Wyatt. And you know, I was just kidding about the Miss Luck thing. Please call me Mollie.” I drop the mounting block on the ground by her feet. “Time to get on the horse, Mollie.” “Not you, Cash. You can still call me Miss Luck.” Rolling my eyes, I shove my hat onto my head. “Let’s get a move on.” “Where’s Goody?” “Out here!” the lawyer calls from the corral. Like a true Texan, Goody keeps spare riding gear in the trunk of her pickup. She’d changed and was in the saddle less than ten minutes after lunch wrapped up. “Y’all take your time.” Mollie dubiously looks up at the brown mare waiting for her. “Please tell me his name is Easy Rider. Or Sweetie. Or Sugar Puff.” Sawyer holds out his hand, still smiling. “This is Maria. She was your daddy’s horse.”

I remind myself that she’s here for the money. Said so herself. But what would Garrett say if he saw her right now? Can’t help but feel he’d be happy his daughter finally stepped foot on the ranch, even if she is wearing sparkly purple boots for an afternoon ride. He’d be proud as hell to see her riding Maria.

I half expect Mollie to throw up her hands and quit on us before she even gets in the saddle. Or maybe that’s just what I hope will happen. Instead, she’s taking Maria’s velvety nose in her hand and stroking the white star on her head. “Hi, Maria. I’m Mollie. I get the feeling you took good care of my dad, yeah?” Maria, being the sweetheart she is, nuzzles Mollie’s hand, tucking her head into Mollie’s chest. “Aw, hey, I like you too. Please don’t throw me off. And if you wouldn’t mind being patient with me, that’d be great. I’m a beginner. Well, I rode when I was younger, but it’s been, like, a million and a half years since I got on a horse, and I’m a little nervous.” Maria whinnies, and Mollie bites her lip. “Okay, a lot nervous.” Sawyer and I meet eyes again. He arches a brow. Garrett loved talking to Maria this way. My brothers and I would joke that the horse was our long-lost sister. Mama was so desperate for a girl, she ended up with five boys trying for one. “Thank God for Patsy,” Garrett would joke. “Sometimes, I think she’s the only thing standing between y’all and the gates of hell. Or the penitentiary.”

Glancing at Mollie, I wonder if she’s losing any sleep over her daddy passing. Looks rested enough. Then again, she didn’t see it happen. She didn’t miss the signs the way I did. Garrett complaining about shooting pains in his arm that week. How he’d kept a hand on his chest that morning, clearly hurting. He blamed it on heartburn, saying he’d overindulged in Patsy’s ribs and jalapeño cornbread the night before. She wasn’t here to see him collapse inside a working pen, calves streaming around his lifeless body like he was a boulder parting a river.

“Okay then.” Goody trots over to join us. “What’s on the agenda, Cash?” Light Mollie Luck’s hair on fire so she runs from the ranch screaming. “See a pasture or two. Take a lap down by the river. Give our honored guest here an understanding of the size and scope of our operation.” I wait for Mollie to correct me. She’s not a guest. She’s our new owner. But she doesn’t say a word. My heart skips a beat. Maybe that means she’s not planning on staying. Why come at all, then?

A hawk circles overhead, startling Maria when it swoops low to the ground. Mollie yelps. I veer to the right and grab her reins, giving them a tug. At the same time, Mollie’s hand darts out and grabs on to my forearm. “Whoa, girl. Easy. Easy,” I say. “Trust me, I’d rather die than touch you⁠—” “I was talking to the horse.” My lips twitch. Maria slows her roll. “Oh.” Mollie’s still holding my arm in a death grip. “Sorry. But I actually don’t want to die, so…” “You’re not gonna die. Not on my watch.”

Oopp!!

“So I’m going to die in an accident then? That how you’re going to get rid of me?” “Nah, Miss Luck. I was gonna let the land do the dirty work.” I nod at the pasture ahead of us. “Like I said, plenty of things out there that’ll get the job done for me.” She laughs again. It strikes me that maybe I made her do it on purpose this time. “Ah, manslaughter. Isn’t it hilarious?” Mollie squeezes my arm before letting me go. “You’re a funny guy, Cash.” “Manslaughter is, in fact, quite the opposite of hilarious,” Goody says. My heart dips at the loss of Mollie’s touch. “Y’all keep up. We got a good ride ahead of us.”

I let Goody do most of the talking. She knows the ins and outs of Lucky Ranch’s operations almost as well as I do. The way she and Garrett worked so closely together over the years, I’d have thought for sure the two of them had a thing going on if Goody wasn’t married to Tallulah Smith, Hartsville’s largest landlord. Tallulah also moonlights as a bartender at The Rattler, which she owns.

I point in the other direction. “The river was Garrett’s favorite part of the ranch. You should see it.”

I catch her looking at me a couple of times. Maybe because she knows I’m looking at her? But I don’t see ire or annoyance in her eyes when they catch on my face. Or more often, my body. She checking me out? Or is she watching me ride, trying to pick up some pointers? I’m sweating bullets by the time we crest the final ridge that rises above the mighty Colorado River. I can smell the water before I see it: earthy petrichor, the smell of rain on land that’s gone too long without it. Glancing at Mollie, I wonder what she’d do if I pulled off my shirt and went for a swim to cool down. Would she fire me on the spot? Or would she just keep staring?

Oh my!!

I stop a little before the edge of the cliff and dismount. “Safer to walk the horses. There’s a twenty-foot drop at the edge there.” “Um, okay.” Mollie glances at the ground. Glances at me. “You made getting off your horse look easy, but somehow, I don’t think it is.” Goody dismounts, too, pulling off her gloves. “You need help, Mollie?” “I got her.” Sidling up beside Maria, I loosen my grip on my reins but keep them in hand. I hold up my arms. “Come on, then.” Mollie turns her head to look at me from the corner of her eye. “I keep thinking about manslaughter.” The heat presses down on my neck and back as I squint up at her. “I’m not gonna drop you. Even if I did, at worst, you’d break an arm.” “I don’t trust you.” “You don’t have a choice. Put your hands on my shoulders, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Ignoring the twist of heat in my center, I keep my eyes level with the saddle and circle her waist with my hands. I lift at the same time that she drops, pressing her weight into my torso. I glance up to make sure she’s okay. Our eyes lock. Another twist of heat. Now that her face is inches from mine, I can see just how pretty she is. There’s a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, constellations of tiny brown dots that are a shade lighter than her eyes. Straight nose, full at the tip. And lips that are expressive and soft-looking. I hate that I’m noticing all this shit. I fucking hate that I can’t stop staring. “Oh!” Mollie gasps, her eyes going wide as she lurches forward all at once.

She lands with a small thud on the ground, her hands still on my shoulders as she breathes, “My boot slipped. I’m so sorry.” I’m out of breath, too, when I say, “Those boots aren’t doing you any favors.” “Yeah, well, I didn’t make them for riding.” I meet eyes with her again. “You really own a boot company?” “I really own a boot company, yes.” Her gaze flicks to her hands, and she blinks, dropping them. “My friend and I came up with the idea back in college.”

“What?” she asks. I shake my head. “Nothing. Didn’t believe you were actually employed.” Her eyes narrow to slits. “Because you thought I spent my time getting tan and going shopping?” “And playing pickleball. Don’t forget that.” Her lips twitch. Am I flirting with Mollie? Why the fuck am I flirting with Mollie? “Y’all—oh! Oh, my goodness.” I turn at the sound of Goody’s voice, just in time to see Maria take off at a gallop, back the way we came. “You didn’t hold the reins?” I bite out, looking at Mollie. She throws up her hands. “You didn’t tell me to!” “Jesus Christ.” I take off running. “Maria! Come here, girl. Maria!”

“I got Maria.” Goody gets back up on her horse. “Y’all stay here. I’ll be back in a jiff.” “Goody—” “Y’all stay, really. Don’t let a little mishap interrupt the tour.” Before I can protest, Goody digs her heels into her horse’s sides and sets off after Maria. I’m left stranded at the edge of a cliff with only one horse and the city girl from hell.