Copyright © 2018 Force of Nature by Melissa Toppen
All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Force of Nature is intended for 18+ older, and for mature audiences only.
Editing by Amy Gamache @ Rose David Editing
Cover Design by Pear Perfect Creative Covers
Cover Models: Alexis Susalla & AC Parker
Photographer: Lindee Robinson Photography
Into the storm I go, to lose my heart and find my soul.
Table of Contents
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
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Epilogue
Chapter One
It’s just as I remember it; the call of the rooster stirring me from sleep, the smell of bacon in the air, the busy chatter coming from the kitchen. It’s as if I never left and yet at the same time feels like I’ve been gone forever.
Four years.
That’s how long it’s been.
Four years. The day I left still so vivid in my mind. From driving away, watching my parents’ ranch disappear from view, the incredible freedom I felt in that moment. I felt unstoppable. On a high I was sure I’d never come down from. Leaving behind the girl who always felt out of place and chasing down the woman I knew I was meant to be.
For as long as I can remember all I wanted was to be an actress. I’d spent the better part of my childhood fantasizing about the day I would leave this ranch behind to chase my dreams. The bright lights of Hollywood calling to me from my little corner of the world.
Back then I felt like there was nothing I couldn’t accomplish. That was until reality decided to smack me square in the face and knock me down a few flights of stairs for good measure.
Even after everything, after all the rejection and disappointment, the dead end jobs as I tried to make ends meet, the constant stress and worry, I still wasn’t ready to walk away from it.
So how did I find myself back here? Simple. I had nowhere else to go.
After four years I had finally exhausted all of my options and drained every single penny I had to my name. It was either come back home to gather my bearings and figure out my next move or stay in Los Angeles and live out of my car. It’s easy to guess which option I chose.
I stare up at the ceiling of my childhood bedroom, mentally preparing myself for how my family will react when I walk downstairs. I got off easy by sneaking in after everyone but my dad had turned in for the night. He’s always the last one in bed and the first one up.
When I walked through the door completely unannounced, I wasn’t sure how it would play out. Would he be disappointed or excited to see me home? Had he known I would fail all along and has been waiting for this day to come? Would I get the famous ‘I told you so’ speech that Henry Roth has given to me more times than I can count over the course of my twenty-two years on this earth?
I ran through it over and over again on the sixteen hour drive home, all the while praying my little Civic would make the trip unscathed. She’s been banging and clanging for some time now and with nearly two hundred and fifty thousand miles under her belt, I know our days together are numbered.
And yet for every scenario I ran through my head, my father’s reaction was one I didn’t see coming. He smiled at me like I was the most precious thing he’d ever seen, then embraced me the way only a father can. There was no lecture, no questions, no I told you so. It was a father happy to see his daughter. And in that moment I felt a peace I hadn’t felt in the last four years since I left home.
Rolling to the side, I drop my legs over the edge of the bed and push up into a sitting position, stretching my arms high above my head before standing.
As much as I would love to hide out in here all day, I’m too anxious to see my brothers. Out of six children, I’m the only girl of Henry and Charlotte Roth. I’m also the only one that has ever dared to leave the ranch.
The babies of the family, Josh and Seth are only fifteen and are still in school, living in the main house with Mom and Dad.
Ben, who’s nineteen, lives in the cabin my dad and grandpa built that resides pretty far into the woods.
Chris, who’s twenty-four, lives in the apartment above the garage. And Brad, the oldest at twenty-seven, lives in a small ranch that my grandparents used to own a few acres from the main house with his wife, Miranda, and their one year old son, Devon.
Grabbing my duffel, I quietly slip from my room and make my way down the hall to the only bathroom on the second floor. I make quick work of brushing my teeth and washing my face before slipping on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve fitted navy blue shirt.
Throwing my long hair into a loose side braid, I quickly apply a light layer of mascara and berry flavored Chap Stick before making my way back to my room. Dropping my bag right inside the door, I pad down the staircase to the open foyer, the sound of my family in the kitchen growing louder with each step I take.
My parents’ house is the stereotypical farm house and the exact opposite of open concept. Each room is a defined space, walled off from every other room.
Passing through the living room, I stop right inside the doorway of the large eat in kitchen. No one notices me right away and I take the opportunity to watch my family.
My mom is at the stove, her back to me. My dad has his nose in a newspaper, a cup of coffee in his hand, and a half eaten plate of pancakes and eggs in front of him.
I smile as I watch Josh and Seth argue over the last piece of bacon while my mother reassures them that more is coming as she flips the meat in the pan.
Darting my gaze to the left, I freeze when an unfamiliar pair of eyes meets mine. Heat instantly prickles my skin as I take in the attractive stranger. Light brown hair shaved along the sides, but longer on top. Some of the longer pieces fall across his forehead. A firm jaw covered in two day old scruff and eyes so light blue I’d almost
swear they were contacts.
He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt with holes in the sleeve. A faded blue baseball cap rests on the table next to him. And while I know nothing about him, a blaring alarm instantly sounds in my head. There’s something rough about him. Something dark behind those brilliant blue eyes. And yet I’m completely transfixed, rooted to the very spot in which I stand.
“Well holy hell, look at what the cat dragged in.” Chris’s voice pulls me from my haze and I look next to the sexy stranger to see my older brother looking at me with a wide crooked smile.
Out of all my siblings I’ve always been the closest to Chris. Probably because we are only two years apart and unlike the rest of my family, Chris shares my sense of adventure; something that got us into more trouble than I care to admit growing up.
“There’s my girl,” my mother says, abandoning the pan on the stove as she crosses toward me.
Within seconds, I’m in her arms and the familiar smell of lavender and honey fills my senses. Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I squeeze her back, having not realized until this moment just how much I had missed her.
“Dad told me what happened,” she whispers into my ear as to not be overheard. “I’m glad you came home.” She steps back, giving me a warm smile.
While all of my brothers favor my dad, tall and lean with darker hair and features, I am the spitting image of my mother. Short and slender with light blonde hair and green eyes.
“Thanks, Mom.” I offer her a forced smile, wishing I was as happy to be here as she seems to be having me here.
“Let me make you a plate,” she offers, quickly making her way back to the stove. I follow her into the kitchen, careful to keep my gaze averted from the handsome stranger whose eyes I can still feel on me.
“Hey, sis.” Josh offers me a small wave.
“Hey, boys.” I ruffle Seth’s hair as I pass. “Keeping out of trouble?”
“Never,” they answer in unison.
“What? Hollywood not big enough for ya? You gotta come cramp our style.” Chris stands, dropping his plate in the sink before turning toward me, a playful smirk on his beard covered face.
“What? You forgot what a razor is and decided to grow an animal on your face?” I smart back, giving the end of his beard a hard tug as I pass by him and join my mother at the stove.
“You just wish you could look this good,” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest.
I arch a brow, look down at myself, and then back up to him. “I think I’m good.”
“Conceited as ever. Glad to see some things never change,” he teases.
“Pot meet kettle.” I hold out my hand.
“Less than two minutes and they’re already at it,” my father grumbles, pushing to his feet.
“Where are Ben and Brad?” I change the subject, looking around the room.
“Brad doesn’t come up to the main house very often. He’s got a wife that takes care of him now. He doesn’t need mommy anymore.” Chris grins at our mother who ignores him completely. “Ben left a few minutes ago to take Harris out for a ride,” he says, referring to one of the horses.
“And you should have gone with him,” my father interrupts, setting his plate and cup next to the sink before turning toward me and my brother. “That fence line isn’t going to repair itself.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Chris huffs, pulling me in for a one armed hug. “It’s good to see you, sis, but duty calls.” He quickly releases me and heads toward the door, stopping inside the doorframe before turning to the sexy as sin man who’s still sitting at the table. “You ready, dude? You’re with me today.”
The man nods. “Yeah.” His voice so deep that the one word sends another wave of heat through me.
He pushes to a stand and slides the faded baseball cap backward over his messy hair, his back muscles flexing through the thin material of his white shirt.
Grabbing his empty plate and glass from the table, he turns, not once looking in my direction as he deposits his dishes in the sink and heads toward the door.
“Who’s that?” I voice to no one in particular the moment the door snaps closed behind him.
“Thad Mitchell,” my father says, stepping up next to my mother before dropping a quick kiss to her temple.
“Jack and Franny’s son?” I question, recognizing the name immediately. “The one who broke my arm?”
“The very same.” My father nods.
Jack and Franny Mitchell lived a couple miles down the road from us when I was little. Jack and my father were friends from high school and remained close until Jack was offered a new job out of state. They moved away when I was six or seven.
That’s really all I remember and, to be honest, if it wasn’t for their son pushing me off the swing set and breaking my arm when I was four, it’s likely I wouldn’t remember them at all. Something like that tends to stick with a person.
“What’s he doing here?” I ask, sliding into my father’s empty seat.
“He was having trouble finding work.”
“And that landed him here how? It’s not like you really need the extra set of hands,” I point out, knowing that with five sons my father stopped hiring outside help years ago.
“Jack called to see if I could make a spot for him, so I did. There’s always plenty to do, and with the warm season quickly approaching there will be enough work to go around and then some.”
“Has he been here long?” I try to keep my questions as casual as possible.
“About eight months.”
“Really?” I’m a little taken aback that in all the conversations I’ve had with my family over the course of the last eight months that no one mentioned that someone else was living here.
“How long will he be here?”
“Hard to say.” He shrugs. “We had him staying in Ben’s old room originally, but now that the weather is warmer he’s in the old camper out back. Grown man like that needs his privacy.”
I bite back the urge to ask more questions, knowing my father needs to get back to work, so I settle for a simple nod of agreement.
“Here you go, honey.” My mom sets a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon in front of me and a plate with bacon in front of the twins.
“Thanks, Mom.” My stomach instantly growls. While Los Angeles offers a lot in the way of food, nothing compares to farm fresh eggs and my mom’s incredible pancakes.
“Why don’t you come out and help me once you’ve finished breakfast?” my father suggests, grabbing his jug of water off the counter.
“Sure.” I smile, even though it’s the last thing I want to do. I was never one for ranch life. Hence why I left the first chance I got.
“See you out there.” He nods, grabs his jacket from next to the door, and disappears outside moments later.
Chapter Two
“Well that’s something I never thought I’d see again.” Ben steps around the back of Maria, the cow I’m currently huddled beneath trying to milk.
“Something I never thought I’d have to do again,” I grumble, wiping the back of my arm across my forehead.
It’s the beginning of April and only around fifty degrees, but I’m sweating like it’s the dead of summer.
“She still not cooperating?” he asks, taking notice of the near empty bucket below Maria.
“So it’s not just me?” I sit up straight, getting the first real look at my younger brother. It’s been nearly a year and a half since I saw him last.
My parents were beyond upset that I didn’t make it home for Christmas this past year but I had a job opportunity pop up and I couldn’t afford not to take it.
Ben looks like he’s aged ten years in that time. He’s broader, more filled out than the last time I saw him. Like Chris, Ben seems to have spent the winter growing out a beard. I’ve never seen him with facial hair before and I have to admit, it’s a little weird.
“I mean, it might be you.” He shrugs, giving me a teasing grin.
“What
ever.” I roll my eyes dramatically before pushing to a stand. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and take her back outside?” I suggest, having brought her into the barn for milking.
“Pretty sure you’re legs aren’t broken.” He shakes his head. “Good to see some things never change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I peel the plastic gloves off my hands and toss them into the trash bucket to my right.
“Still trying to push your work off on everyone else.” He smirks.
“I’ve never done that,” I insist, pausing for a moment. “Okay, well maybe that’s not entirely true, but what good is being the only girl if you can’t rely on your brothers to pick up some of the hard labor?”
“And walking a cow back out to the pen is hard labor?” He arches a brow, his smile spreading.
“Oh, shut up.” I stick my tongue out at him before turning to untie the lead from the post in front of Maria. “Come on, girl.” I tug gently, relieved when she follows me without resistance.
“So how long you here for?” Ben follows me from the barn, walking along my left side.
“Hopefully not long.” I stop, waiting for Ben to unlatch the gate to the fence before leading Maria inside. “I’ve auditioned for a few different roles. I expect a call back any day now.”
“Do you really or is that just wishful thinking?” he asks, not afraid to call me on my bluff.
“I really do. I’m not giving up, Ben,” I tell him, latching the gate once Maria is inside. “It’s going to happen for me, you’ll see.”
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, but I can tell neither of us actually believes what I’m saying. I’ve had very little success over the last four years, and I don’t expect that to change now that I’m back in Wyoming.
“Well, I hope it does.” He bumps his shoulder against mine as we make our way back up toward the house. “But in the meantime, I’m glad your home.”
“Thanks.” I force a smile, wishing I felt glad to be here.
Don’t get me wrong, a part of me feels almost relieved to be here. This is home. The place I grew up. Where I learned how to ride a horse and fix a tractor. Where I climbed trees and had snow fort wars with my brothers during the winter. Every single happy memory I have is from my time here.
Force of Nature Page 1