Dad hits return and then turns to me, setting his forearms on his desk and folding his hands. Gone is the angry glare he shared with the Bridgers.

“Your mother doesn’t want you working, but I’ll allow it. I’m going to help you find another position. I’ve been looking since you announced your new job, and I’ve got a couple possibilities.”

“No, Dad. I don’t want to talk about that.” No way in hell am I sitting beside Doris and stuffing envelopes. “I want to talk about the Bridgers, and not with regard to my job.”

“The Bridgers aren’t your concern,” he counters.

If he only knew…

I’m all but in love with one of them. Seeing Austin on the street with his brothers—arguing with my dad—made me realize I wanted to leave with him, not my father. I wanted to take his hand and run. To escape to our secret spring where it’s just the two of us. No problems. No outside world.

“I’ve known Chance for a long time,” I say. “I’ve told you before that he’s a good guy.”

Dad swipes his hand through the air. “Good guy? How could he be with Jonathan Bridger as his father? Now there are two more of them. They’re ruthless, sweetheart, and I don’t want you near any of them. You no longer work for them.”

My spine stiffens at his cut-and-dried decision making when it comes to my life. My friends. My…lover.

I do work at Bridger Ranch and I’ll continue as long as I wish. My father doesn’t own me. I’ve spent enough time with men having power over me, and I’m done. Of course, unlike the others in the past, he means well, but that somehow makes it worse.

I feel smothered. Suffocated instead of free.

If Dad knew about what I’ve already done and shared with Austin, he’d probably have a stroke. He’d probably even try to ground me like I was sixteen. I might be his daughter, but I’m not his little girl any longer. I can decide for myself who’s good and who’s bad. I’ve certainly had enough experience with that.

I let out a sigh and try to get through to him one more time. I don’t want to choose, but I might have to. “Just tell me, Dad. What did their father do, other than pay you less than what your property was worth?”

His dark eyes flick to mine. “You won’t understand.”

“Seriously?” I shake my head. “Last time I checked I was a college graduate and I got into vet school, which is highly selective. You saw my test scores. Don’t patronize me like that.”

His gaze softens. “You’re an intelligent gi—”

I glare at him.

He clears his throat. “Young woman.”

“I’m twenty-seven years old. You were married and had me by that age,” I remind him.

“You’re still healing. This isn’t something you need to concern yourself with. And the Bridgers—the ranch and the men—are bad for you.”