“Shiloh—“
“It’s fine,” she says quickly. “You’re right. We should keep things professional.”
She forces a smile and steps back. Aria yells from inside the cabin, calling me to look at something.
“You should go,” she whispers, before turning away from me and walking away, her shoulders straight, her spine stiff.
When she gets to the porch of the main house, she hesitates, just for a breath, and I see it.
The hurt, disappointment, and the part of her that thought I would choose her, even just for a moment. Then she disappears. And I’m left standing on the porch, wondering which mistake will cost me more—falling for her… or convincing her I shouldn’t.
15
ELLA
I don’t cry or break easily. I don’t even let myself feel too deeply most days, because when I do, the feeling tends to drag me into places I’ve spent years trying to climb out of. But the second I get back to the main house, after leaving Cole and Aria at their new cabin, after forcing a smile and pretending I wasn’t affected, I shut myself in my office and lean my back against the door.
And for a moment, I just… breathe.
Cole’s words keep echoing in my head, looping over and over until my stomach twists: I want to apologize. This shouldn’t have happened. Your family will never approve. We need to keep things professional.
I hated every second of hearing him pull away, even when I saw the fear underneath it. I hated the way he looked at me like I was something he needed to protect, not from danger, but from himself. And I hated that, just for a moment, I almost let myself believe him.
Almost.
I’m hurt, yes, but I’m not blind. I know what all those times were between us—the way he held me and touched me like I was something he was afraid to lose. People don’t look at each other like that unless there’s something real there. And Cole is many things: stubborn, guilt-ridden, guarded, but he doesn’t fake desire. He doesn’t pretend a connection is there when it’s not.
He’s afraid, not indifferent. That difference matters more than he realizes.
I push off the door and swipe the corners of my eyes with my thumbs before a single tear has the chance to spill. There’s no point crying over this. Not when I’ve already made up my mind.
If Cole Dawson thinks he can distance himself from me, he doesn’t know me at all. I’m not giving up.
Not on him or whatever this is between us.
As I step out of my office, I repeat one thing to myself with each step: Play the long game, Ella. Slow. Patient. Smart. If Cole is scared of my family, I’ll show him he doesn’t have to be. If he’s scared of ruining his chance at rebuilding his business, I’ll helphim succeed. If he’s scared of wanting me, well… that one I’ll handle gently.
I walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water when I catch a glimpse of something through the window. Aria, in the distance, running around the corral, the biggest smile on her face. The sight softens me. That little girl is sunshine in a bottle, and she doesn’t even know it.
When she asked me to train her, it hit me harder than I expected. In the moment, I smiled and agreed, but inside I felt something crack open. Barrel racing used to be everything to me—my pride, purpose, entire future—and losing it tore a hole I’ve never fully stitched shut.
Hearing that small, excited voice ask me to step back into that world stirred up a mess of fear, grief, and longing. It reminded me of the accident, the pain, the helplessness… but it also reminded me of who I used to be before all of that. And standing there with her, realizing she trusted me enough to guide her, something inside me softened. Maybe helping Aria chase her bravery was exactly what I needed to reclaim my own.
Ava walks into the kitchen, startling me back to reality. She gazes at me curiously, arms crossed. Her eyes scan my face the way only a best friend’s can, as if she’s reading each emotion like a headline.
“Okay,” she says. “Who hurt you, and where do you want them buried?”
I let out a broken laugh. “It’s not that serious.”
“Ella, your face is doing the ‘I’m holding it together but barely’ thing. You only do that when something bad—work-related or boy-related—happens. And since there are no dead bodies, I’m assuming it’s a boy.”
This woman really does know me better than I know myself.
I’ve been keeping this whole Cole and me relationship thing a secret, and it’s been weighing on me. But I’m done with that. Now I need my best friend so she can help me carry this burden before it drives me crazy.
“It’s not—okay, it is,” I admit quietly.
Ava’s expression softens. “Come here.”
