Boundless Fate Read online

  Copyright © 2015 by Alicia Rae

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit my website at www.aliciaraeauthor.com

  To my sister at heart, Erin.

  Thank you for driving to the boondocks for our awesome porch dates. Whether we share stories filled with laughter, talk about the simplest things in life, or even shed tears together, there is no one else I’d rather be with.

  ♥ you, lady.

  xxx

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dear Readers

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  SOME BELIEVED FATE DETERMINED OUR HOPES AND DREAMS. Others thought they were achieved by the willpower to never give up on the journey we sought.

  My belief was that if we dug deep within ourselves, refusing to let go of our visions, we would find our inner strength and push forward. With love, faith, courage, and perseverance, I believed we could make our dreams come true.

  I OPENED MY EYES TO A BLINDING BRIGHTNESS and sighed in relief at waking after the sunrise. I didn’t want to see a single colored ray beaming in through my window. I couldn’t bear the sight of the sun rising or falling. It would only remind me of Paige with her long brown hair shimmering in the light and especially her smile as she looked over at me. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to witness that beautiful glow in her eyes one more time.

  Fuck.

  I closed my eyes and tried to keep the images of her stunning face out of my mind. She didn’t belong there anymore.

  I’d said good-bye to her the morning after my horse barn and equipment building were set on fire just days ago. I would not allow myself to be the kind of man who dragged her down into my emotional destruction after she’d just recovered from her tragic horse accident last fall. Letting her go was my way of protecting her.

  Her inner faith, strength, and happiness were finally back on track after grieving the loss of her horse and healing from an extensive leg injury, and now, I was consumed with a bottomless dark pit of hateful revenge from losing part of my ranch.

  Unable to endure thinking of her, I redirected my focus to the busy day already carved out for me. My insurance company had informed me that an insurance adjustor, Rebecca Carter, would be arriving at eight this morning. I’d have to walk her around my property, so she could take pictures of the extensive fire damage, jot down notes to process the claim, and explain what expenses my business insurance would cover. In short, my day of assessing my losses on the farm—in turn, reminding me of the tragic fire—would be comparable to someone ripping his own heart out of his chest.

  Feeling the weight of the next several hours looming over me, I forced myself to roll out of bed. I strolled over to my dresser and sought out the second drawer down from the top. I opened it, grabbed the first shirt within my reach, and slipped it on. Then, I went for an old pair of Wranglers and tucked a clean bandana into my back pocket.

  In the hallway, I flipped on the light switch, so I could make my way through the living room to the front door. There was no point in making myself breakfast. I was too sick to my stomach from just thinking about what was to come. Plus, I had a boatload of chores to tackle before Rebecca’s arrival, and since my John Deere tractor and Polaris Sportsman camo four-wheeler had been ruined in the fire, ranch tasks took a hell of a lot longer on foot. With no time to waste, I put on my old cowboy boots and hat, and I headed outside.

  The first view of the backyard always knocked the wind out of me. Vivid images of the night when two of my buildings had burned to the ground replayed in my mind. Ahead of me to my right, my horse barn was nothing but a pile of ashes with yellow caution tape outlining the perimeter. Broken boards lay astray on the ground with a few posts barely standing in the rubbish. The smell of soot was still so strong that I could nearly taste it in my mouth. A large expansion of burned grass encircled the building. Surrounding the area were deep tire marks from where the firemen had parked their trucks before gorging the building with water to put out the blazing fire.

  My eyes settled on the yellow caution tape again. An irrepressible rage consumed me as I remembered my conversation with the state fire marshal, Reid Grayson, yesterday when he’d informed me that I’d been a victim of arson. Eight empty gasoline cans had been found tossed in bushes on the far side of the equipment building. He’d taken soil samples to send off to the lab for confirmation of arson and released my property back to me. Even though I had already suspected the fire was deliberately set, having my intuition confirmed still hadn’t made hearing the words any less gruesome.

  Incapable of staring at the scattered remains in front of me, I bowed my head and marched forward. I bypassed the area altogether and went straight to the cattle pasture first. I unlatched the double-wide metal gate in front of me and pushed it open. The herd was blocked from this section by a second four-foot gate along the right side of the fence line.

  Two large blue tarps hung on the right side of the fence. I lifted the one closest to me, revealing a stack of square hay bales and bags of grain. I retrieved my yellow work gloves off the hay, put them on, and grabbed my handy metal clippers from my front pocket. Then, I began to haul each individual bale over to the silver food bins inside the pasture. After dropping each one into the container, I snipped off the two strings holding the dry grass together.

  By the time I completed my fifteenth bale, the sky was beginning to brighten. All that was left to do was bring over a few bags of grain and make sure the four water troughs were full, so I completed each task before striding over to the adjoining gate to let the cattle into the pasture to eat.

  At the horse pasture, I repeated the process of carrying in a mixture of hay bales and grain as well as making sure their water supply was plentiful.

  Sweat beaded across my skin and soaked the front of my gray T-shirt. It was a damn shame for a rancher to lose his tractor, especially my sweet, domineering John Deere 6R with its six-hundred-twenty-five horsepower motor. I surely missed that today.

  Just as I finished my first round of chores, I heard gravel tires making their way up the long curve of my driveway. I let out a hefty sigh at what lay ahead of me as I turned around to jog back up to the house.

  A bright red Chevy Impala came to a stop on the side of the house, and a tall woman with a briefcase in hand stepped out of the driver’s door as I came to stand by her. She scanned what was visible of the backyard and appeared to be taking in all the damage.

  “Hi, sir.” She finally met my gaze. Wide gree
n eyes traveled up and down me.

  It dawned on me that I must be a sore sight covered in sweat.

  “You must be Colton Kingston?” she asked.

  I took off my yellow work gloves, stuck them in my back pocket, and outstretched my hand to her. “Yes, ma’am. And you are?”

  “Forgive me.” She smiled.

  I noticed her lipstick matched her car to a T.

  “I’m Rebecca Carter with HMC Insurance Company,” she said, extending her arm.

  I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Carter.”

  “You, too.” She frowned. “Though, I wish it were under better circumstances. I’m terribly sorry to hear about the loss on your farm.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled faintly, dwelling on the upcoming task of showing her around, as I let go of her hand. “Where would you like to begin?”

  “How about we start with the horse barn and make our way over to the second building?”

  “Okay.” I nodded.

  Rebecca pivoted on her shoes, opened the driver’s door, and leaned inside to set her briefcase on her seat. She dug into her briefcase and withdrew a small camera, a notebook, and a pen.

  “Can I carry anything for you?” I offered.

  “Oh, no. That’s quite all right.” She shook her head as she shut the door and turned back around. Her arms came out at either side of her to catch her balance, appearing unsteady on the gravel driveway beneath her.

  It was then I noticed the lady had on dress shoes…to walk around muddy property covered in ashes.

  “I have everything I need.”

  I pointed to her feet. “Are you sure you can walk in those? It’s pretty dirty around here at the moment.”

  She flippantly waved her hand at me. “It’ll be no trouble at all. Wearing heels is second nature to me.”

  Wanting to be respectful, I stifled my laughter. “All right then, ma’am. I’ll lead the way.”

  As we neared the front of where the horses had formerly resided at night, I gestured straight ahead. “This was the main entrance to the horse barn. There’s another door at the opposing end.” I swallowed thickly, visualizing what the inside used to look like. “Two long rows of stalls went down either side of the building with a tack row in the center on the right side.”

  Rebecca was clicking her camera in quick succession at my side, taking multiple pictures from different angles. “And what were the exact dimensions of the barn?” she queried.

  “Sixty by seventy feet.”

  “With how many stalls?” she fired off.

  “Fifteen on each side.”

  Rebecca looked over at me with a thoughtful expression and quietly asked, “And what happened to the animals that resided in this barn?”

  “They all made it out safely,” I answered before taking a deep breath.

  If it hadn’t been for Paige’s help the night of the fire, I would never have been able to rescue all the horses in time. I would forever be in her debt for helping me save every last one of the animals.

  “I’m very glad to hear that, Mr. Kingston.” She smiled. “Now, what horse equipment was lost?”

  “Several pristine Western saddles and riding gear along with sperm from seven elite horses, some belonging to a few of my own stallions and others I’d recently purchased for breeding,” I explained, naming the biggest losses. I left off most of the smaller items, such as ropes, bridles, and tools, since I could replace those on my own.

  Rebecca wrote in her notepad. “Do you have any receipts you’d be able to provide?”

  “Yes, I should have most of them filed in my office.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “We’ll need as many as you can find for reimbursement.”

  “Of course.”

  Maneuvering round the debris, she alternated between writing in her notebook and capturing photographs.

  About twenty minutes later, she finally glanced up. “I think I have everything I need here.”

  I nodded and motioned to the next set of remains. “The equipment building is this way.”

  We retraced our steps and walked around the backside of the debris. Rebecca held up her camera and snapped more pictures again. When her second wave of questions came at me, I restrained myself from clenching my fists as I told her each item that had been destroyed in this structure. Not including the building itself, over two hundred thousand dollars had been lost. Anger boiled within me at not being able to salvage even a single item inside. Everything had been burned to a crisp. What had once been a green tractor was now a hunk of metal covered in soot, and the front end of the machine had a gaping hole where the motor had been before the gas tank had caught fire and exploded.

  Needing air, I stepped out of the building and turned my head back to what had once been my livelihood, a thriving business. Rage and revenge were two evil emotions that consumed me. No matter how hard I’d tried to bury the resentment coursing through me, it only increased further. I felt as though an unshakable disease of hatred plagued me.

  I forced myself to breathe…in and out and over again. Revenge pumped through me at an all-time high. Whoever had done this to me was going to pay for his or her actions. There was no forgiveness for those who willingly set out to hurt others or innocent animals. I wanted a name, but I was pretty sure I already knew who it was. All I needed was confirmation.

  Every fiber of my being told me that Hank Ulrich was the man responsible for taking my ranch from me. I also believed he had broken the water spigot that had flooded my barn only weeks before the fire had swept across my buildings and almost taken the lives of my horses. I just had to find proof to take him down.

  He’d had a personal vendetta against me for weeks. After witnessing he didn’t have a humane bone in his body, I’d refused to sell him my five-year-old stallion, Rusty. I would never sell one of my horses for a quick buck. I always put my heart and soul into training my animals, and I prided myself on finding them the good homes they deserved.

  As the hours ticked by while waiting for the law to take action, my patience was running thin. Soon, it would be time to take matters into my own hands and bring Hank Ulrich to justice. I just needed to find a piece of solid evidence to link him to the incident.

  It was time to do some investigating of my own.

  IT WAS NEARLY HALF PAST SIX when the sun began to rise above the thick tree line of my parents’ backyard. The morning air was cool and crisp, and the grass was damp with dew, causing the light to glisten across it.

  Balancing my coffee mug in one hand, I used my free one to pull my navy-blue throw blanket closer around my waist and legs as I leaned back into the wooden rocking swing.

  While studying the energetic, bold colors of the sky sparkling in front of me, I was reminded of Colton and how we used to share moments like these. Whether the sun was rising to its peak high in the sky or falling toward the horizon, Colton was always by my side. He had been my best friend since the tender age of five, and we shared an endless number of precious memories together. Most of our days of growing up in Shelbyville, Tennessee, had been spent galloping on our horses through the open fields while seeking out our next outdoor adventure, or sometimes, we would just enjoy one another’s company at our tree fort that Colton had built for us when we were ten years old.

  Suddenly, my precious memories dimmed, taking my good spirit with them. My heart throbbed a painful ache for him. I placed my hand over my chest in hopes of soothing the discomfort, but it was useless.

  Here I was, watching a sunrise, without Colton by my side.

  The overwhelming ache in my heart was far more painful than any other physical pain I’d ever endured before. I was bleeding from a raw open wound.

  It had only been two days since the day after the fire when Colton said good-bye to me without so much as a single explanation. Luckily, Colton and I had been able to remove all the horses before the building burned to ashes that night. Colton had not only lost the shelter for his animals, but also every last piece
of farm equipment to care for them.

  It was an unthinkable loss.

  I wanted nothing more than to be with Colton during his profound time of need, so I could wrap my arms around him and comfort him in any way possible. Instead, he’d done a one-eighty turn on me by completely shutting me out and pushing me away.

  The past forty-eight hours of being away from him had seemed like a lifetime. Colton saying good-bye had felt official, as if there were no room for a change of heart.

  The reality of the situation and the space he put between us hurt. It hurt like hell, and it left me reeling in confusion.

  But after my horse accident last fall where I had lost my sweet saddlebred horse, Missy, and broken my right femur due to my poor judgment in crossing the river, I had run away to my closest friend, Ashlee Davis, to work at her bakery, Lovin’ Sweets in Murfreesboro. I’d left Colton behind without any answers, so I couldn’t blame him for doing the same thing to me.

  Still gazing straight ahead, I brought my cup to my lips to take a sip of coffee and prayed the beautiful morning lights held the power to lift my spirits and soothe me. But the minutes ticked by, and it didn’t help.

  Tears ran down my cheeks at realizing Colton was right about what he’d said to me that awful morning. I had given up on our fate when I allowed my grief over losing Missy to create a drift between our love for one another.

  My doubt in myself back then had given me reason to believe that Colton doubted my strength to aid him through his own current hardship.

  I sighed heavily. In truth, I didn’t have the slightest clue as to what Colton’s thoughts were at this moment because he hadn’t let me in since the fire.

  The patio door squeaked on its hinges. I spun around to see my dad walking outside, and a soft clink sounded behind him. He bent forward to pick up his work boots off the rug, and then he sauntered over and took a seat in the rocking chair next to me.

  Dad gazed up at me. His delighted expression was visible beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. “Hey, kiddo. What has you up so early again?”