The almost two-hour drive back to Denver was uneventful—until I got a frantic phone call from my mom. She isn't the best at delivering news, whether good or bad, so I held my breath and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Everything's okay, but something happened with the dogs," my mom, Laura, said.

I gripped the steering wheel harder. I'd just left home two days ago, and already something had gone wrong with the dogs? My heart sank, and I felt tears well up in my eyes, despite not even knowing what was happening yet. I listened as she explained, my dad looking at me expectantly, sensing something was off.

"Well, I had your dogs outside playing, when all of a sudden I heard Kona screeching. I ran over to see what was going on, and at first, I couldn't tell! Then I realized Jericho's tooth was caught in Kona's collar. While he was trying to pull away, he was twisting and suffocating Kona. I couldn't get the collars undone, so I ran to grab scissors. By the time I got back, they managed to break free. Kona seems okay... just traumatized."

I felt sick to my stomach, even after she assured me that Kona was probably fine and didn't need to see a vet. After hanging up the phone, I couldn't hold back my tears and explained the story to my dad.

"The dogs are going to be fine," my dad said, trying to calm me. "You know your mom, she loves animals and will take care of it. This is just a freak accident. Kona's okay."

We sat in silence as I drove the remaining half hour to Denver. The sun was setting, painting the Rocky Mountains in an orange glow, and the city of Denver bathed in its light. Before heading to a cheap hotel, we had an even cheaper dinner at Red Robin. Brian told me to get whatever I wanted, but I was too anxious to eat. I barely touched my appetizer sampler platter.

After the quick meal, we drove to the hotel. Earlier, I'd texted Wyatt, who handled the horse side of things at the ranch. From what I understood, I'd be reporting to him when I arrived. He'd said there was no rush to get back since we wouldn't start work until Monday. I could put off the inevitable for a little while longer.

I struggled to fall asleep, even after taking melatonin. My mind kept racing—thinking about my dogs, the predictable life I was leaving behind at home, and whether I'd made the right decision coming out here. I was excited to have been offered a job on a ranch, but what if it wasn't for me? Finally, exhaustion won, and I fell into a restless sleep, my mind troubled by the summer ahead.

Before I knew it, my dad's alarm went off at 4 a.m. He didn't have much to pack, since he'd only been on the road with me for a few days. I left my things in my hotel room, knowing I'd be back to sleep a little longer since checkout wasn't until noon. The drive to the airport was short, and I could tell my normally cool-faced dad was sad to be leaving me.

"You're only a five-hour flight away," he said, trying to reassure me. "If you want to visit home for the weekend, it's not a big deal."

"I know," I said, though I wasn't entirely convinced.

"If the ranch isn't what you expected, don't be afraid to throw your stuff in your car and leave. No one would blame you. That's why you brought the car, so you have a way out if you need it."

I nodded, but I was only half-listening. I was tired, nervous, and focused on navigating the road to Denver International Airport. We arrived at his terminal, and I pulled the car over to the shoulder, putting it in park.

"You'll have an amazing summer, Holly. Just take one day at a time," Brian told me. He grabbed his bag, and though I'm not much of a hugger, I hugged him tight. We said our goodbyes, and he stepped through the double glass doors into the airport. I watched him until he was out of sight before getting back into my car.

Now I was truly alone—in an unfamiliar state, heading toward a job at an unfamiliar place. I couldn't help the lump in my throat, and soon tears were rolling down my face. I'd never cried so much in my life. At least I had my car, I thought, patting the dash of my Fiero for reassurance. My mood lightened slightly when I passed Blucifer on my way out of the airport.

I didn't know much about Colorado, but I'd heard about the DIA being home to some bizarre art sculptures, and if you asked some people, they'd say the airport was connected to underground conspiracies. I knew about Blucifer—a 32-foot-tall, rearing blue mustang with glowing red eyes. The sculpture's creator, Luis Jimenez, had been killed when part of the piece fell on him, and his family and friends finished the project in 2008, ten years later. I watched the ominous figure disappear from my rearview mirror as I drove back to the hotel.

I was hoping to catch up on sleep when I got back to my room, but it was already 5 a.m., and the sky was beginning to lighten. I knew sleep wasn't coming. I scrolled through my phone until 7 a.m. when I could head down for the hotel's breakfast. I ate a small sandwich and yogurt, then returned to my room. A couple of hours passed, and boredom finally set in. I figured I should get moving—time to head back to the ranch and unpack.

I checked out of the hotel early, threw my overnight bag into my car, and made a quick stop for gas. I realized I'd forgotten a few essentials, like a shower towel, so I headed to Walmart. Unfortunately, I had picked the wrong side of town—everything was locked up and required an employee to unlock the cases. I couldn't even get ibuprofen without waiting for assistance. I sighed and plugged the ranch's address into my GPS, then hit the road.

Berthoud Pass was coming up, and I still wasn't used to the intimidating climb. But there was a pull-off at the top, so I decided to stop for a few minutes and take some pictures of my car with the snow-covered peaks behind it.

When I got back to the town near the ranch, I stopped for gas again. My car had great mileage, but the tank was small, so I liked to keep it topped off. My spirits lifted when a cute guy in a truck complimented my car. It reminded me of my goal to find a cute cowboy this summer. It wasn't a bad start, considering my Fiero had already caught someone's attention.

The Fiero certainly stood out in a mountain town filled with trucks and four-wheel-drive vehicles. It wasn't exactly inconspicuous, but it was fun to get compliments and watch people do double-takes when they saw me pass.

The ranch was just ten minutes from town, so the drive didn't take long. It was as quiet as it had been the day before. I grabbed my bag and went back to my room, unpacking for the next couple of hours. There was a shared closet, so I hung up most of my things.

Unpacking took a while since I'd brought quite a bit of stuff. For work, I had bought five new pearl snap shirts (I owned zero before), seven new pairs of jeans, one straw cowboy hat, one felt cowboy hat, and two pairs of cowboy boots. I'd been able to make the purchases affordable by working two months at Boot Barn for a 50% discount. I packed other essentials too, like some casual shirts, junk jeans, and a few nicer shirts and pants to wear when I wasn't at the ranch.

Miranda had mentioned there would be dinner for the staff around 6 p.m. I wasn't sure what to expect for meals here, but I knew staff meals were one of the perks of the job. I'd looked forward to the days when I didn't have to worry about a meal plan like back at home. When I had to be self-reliant, I skipped meals to save time and money. When I did cook, it was usually rice and some kind of meat mixed in.

Just before 6 pm, I decided to go talk to Miranda. I wanted to get to know her better, and maybe she would be heading down for dinner too so I did not have to go alone. The light was on in her room, but the door was closed, so I knocked.

"Come in!" Miranda answered.

"Hi, I just wanted to see if you were going to head down for dinner?" I asked, and opened the door but stood with my shoulder leaning against the door frame.

Miranda was reading a book on her bed, and set it down as she said "I didn't realize it was that time already!"

"Oh it's okay, we still have a few minutes," I assured her. I am a reader myself, so I asked, "what are you reading?"

"Oh it's nothing really, just something I found at a used bookstore," Miranda said as she flashed me the cover.

I shook my head, not recognizing the cover or the author. I was curious to know more about Miranda especially because she was a first-year wrangler like me.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Columbus... Ohio. I've lived there my whole life. I have not been home much since I graduated two years ago because I have been doing a lot of traveling before I settle down into a career," Miranda explained.

"Oh okay, Ohio," I rolled my eyes, hoping she caught that it was sarcastic. "I'm from Michigan, which is a better state. I mean, we have the Great Lakes after all."

"Ohio has great qualities!" Miranda laughed.

"We will have to see if we can get past this state rivalry this summer," I joked, already glad we were both bonding over being from the Midwest.

Before I could ask more questions to Miranda, a loud bell broke up our conversation. Miranda slid off of her bed, "that's the dinner bell. Well, the food bell I guess. They ring it when the food is ready," she explained.

"Oh, that's convenient," I said. I was still standing in the doorway, and I turned to leave Girl's Quarters with Miranda behind me.

I wondered what other strangers I would meet at the staff dinner.

_____________________________________________________________________

The staff room was a small, informal space, with mismatched chairs and a long wooden table that looked like it had seen its fair share of dinners and debates. As I walked in, Miranda closed behind me, I only saw a couple unfamiliar faces. There were two long tables, but three other people only sat around one. Me and Miranda passed Gene who was just wrapping up preparing us dinner. Aside from the cook, everyone in the staff room appeared to be in their twenties like me.

"Hi, I'm Holly," I said to introduce myself, "I'm a wrangler", I added.

The girl at the head of the table looked up from her plate, her braided brown hair falling over her shoulder as she smiled warmly. Her green eyes were bright, like she was genuinely glad to see someone new. Her look was simple: a faded flannel shirt, well-worn jeans, and boots that had clearly seen better days. Nothing flashy, nothing that screamed "attention," but there was a confidence in her that was hard to ignore.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Bethany, but you can call me Beth, and I'm a second-year wrangler," Beth said, offering me a friendly nod.

Her tone was warm, and I couldn't help but feel reassured. She seemed like someone who genuinely cared about making sure the new folks felt welcome. That's exactly what I needed, after all. It felt good to meet someone who wasn't going to make me feel like an outsider.

"Thanks, I hope so," I said, offering a smile of my own.

She returned the smile with an easy grin. "Don't worry, we've all been new people here. We take care of each other. Right, Ellie?"

The girl sitting on the long side of the table next to Beth gave a nod, "Definitely. Beth's one of the ones who really knows the ropes."

The third girl sitting across from me butt in, "I'm a second-year here too. My name is Jessie and I work in the kitchen."

At first glance, I wouldn't have expected her to be one of the more complex characters in the ranch's drama. She seemed harmless. But the energy she gave off made it clear she wanted everyone to like her. Her energy was infectious, and she had a way of drawing attention to herself that made it hard not to smile. But something about her felt a little too perfect, a little too rehearsed. Jessie had this way about her—a thick southern accent that sounded exaggerated when she was excited, but it only added to her charm. She has short curly hair that was a shade of brown off enough that it appeared almost copper.

I noticed right away that Jessie had an unnatural way of shifting the dynamics in the room. She was always the center of attention, effortlessly charming everyone, but as I watched her interact with Beth, I began to see cracks in the façade. Jessie and Beth had been friends last year, I'd heard, but now there was a strange, palpable distance between them. When Jessie spoke to Beth, her voice was bright and light, but there was an undertone—something I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was like she was pretending everything was fine, but there was a tension in the air that made the conversation feel forced.

Jessie didn't seem to mind. In fact, she was the one who kept the conversation going, always smiling, always pretending like everything was just peachy. But I could see it. Jessie didn't just want to be liked—she needed it. And she was good at manipulating the situation to make sure she stayed in the spotlight.

As I listened to the three of them, it was hard to ignore the dynamic at the table. Beth was the strong, outspoken one, not afraid to challenge anyone. Ellie was the quiet, self-doubting one, always apologizing for things she didn't need to. And Jessie was the one who seemed to float through it all, carefully crafting her image while masking a deeper insecurity.

I almost forgot we came down here for dinner as I listened to the conversations being exchanged. Gene brought out plates of food and set them on the table. It looked like we would be having bratwurst and potatoes tonight, and it looked delicious so that was a good start. Gene made himself a plate, but he sat by himself at the table behind us which I thought was a bit odd.

"I've been around the ranch long enough to know what works and what doesn't. And trust me, there's a lot of what doesn't," Beth laughed as she continued her conversation I had been half-paying attention to, as if the idea of things going wrong was a shared joke between her and the world.

"The trick is just to stay on top of everything," Beth was saying. "If you let things pile up, that's when it gets crazy. And don't let anyone tell you what to do unless they've been here as long as I have. You'll see what I mean."

She had a confidence about her that made me believe she knew what she was talking about, especially being so cocky in front of one of the owners of the ranch, Gene. I couldn't yet tell if she was arrogant because she did talk like she knew what she was doing. Maybe she had a bit of a bossy streak, but it was in a way that made you want to follow her lead. As a newbie, I am going to need someone to look up to, and maybe that person is Beth.

Just as I was starting to feel comfortable, she glanced over at me, as if she'd been thinking about something for a moment. "You're from...where was it? Back east, right?"

"Yeah," I said, surprised she remembered. "I'm from Michigan."

Her expression softened a bit. "Ah, a city girl. You'll get used to the pace out here," she said, her tone warm but knowing. "It's a lot slower than what you're probably used to, but you'll come to love it. Everyone does."

I nodded, though I was a little annoyed she assumed I was from the city. While where I lived back home was far from the middle of nowhere, I still worked at a horse stable and had my fair share of time working outside on different farms.

As dinner continued, Beth kept talking, offering tips and bits of advice like she was trying to prepare me for the days ahead. The others listened to her closely, nodding along. She acted like the boss amongst this small group, even if she wasn't much older than me.

But then, as the conversation shifted toward last year's work, I noticed something in the way Beth talked about another woman who had been here before. The tone of her voice shifted ever so slightly, and there was a coldness in the way she spoke.

"Yeah, that girl... I don't know what happened with her last year," Beth said casually, the flicker of something darker in her eyes. "Some people just can't handle this kind of work. They think they want it, but they don't have the grit for it." She paused for a moment, as if reflecting. "Anyway, they didn't bring her back, so it is what it is."

The others around the table didn't say much in response, and neither did I. But I caught Jessie's quick glance toward me, a subtle warning, maybe. It was just a moment, but something about the way Beth spoke left a lingering unease in the air.

I looked back at Beth, and she smiled again, the warmth returning to her expression as if nothing had happened. But the change was enough to make me pause.

Beth was still likable, but there was an edge to her that couldn't be ignored.

As dinner settled into the usual noise of forks scraping against plates and chatter filling the space, I found myself sitting at the table with three new faces. Miranda had been kind enough to introduce me to everyone earlier, but now that we were sitting down to eat, I could observe them a little more closely.

As dinner continued, I realized that the next few months weren't going to be as simple as I thought. I was going to have to navigate not just the ranch work, but these people. Beth's drama. Ellie's self-doubt. Jessie's charm and manipulation. And maybe, just maybe, my own feelings, too.