I shift toward her. “You gonna answer?”
She hesitates, then picks it up and presses it to her ear. “Hey… yeah, I’m here.”
I can’t hear what he says, but I watch her expression change, brows pulling tight, lips parting like she’s just been sucker punched.
You can hear him hang up and she lowers the phone slowly, blinking hard. “Cash… there’s something else,” she says, her voice thinner than before, like she’s trying to keep it steady and failing.
Her eyes are wide, blinking fast, and she presses her palm against her chest like she’s bracing for something heavy. “And it’s not just about the ranch.”
The porch swing creaks beneath us, suddenly feeling a whole lot less steady.
Chapter eighteen
Setback and Sacrifice
Avery
It’s barely past sunrise, but I’ve been awake for hours. I sit at the edge of the bed, my bare feet planted on the worn floorboards of my bedroom, fingers gripping the edge of the mattress like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded.
Outside the window, the sky glows with a watercolor wash of lavender and gold, the first signs of another perfect Painted Sky morning.
But everything inside me feels far from perfect. My chest is tight, breath shallow, like my ribs are trying to cage in the panic rising inside me. My stomach twists, heavy and unsettled, as if my body already knows what my heart’s still trying to deny.
Cash is still asleep behind me, his arm draped across the empty space I just left. He looks peaceful, unaware of the storm still churning inside me.
I have to tell him.
I slip out of the room and head downstairs, where the scent of strong coffee already hangs in the air. Harper’styping away on her computer in her robe, sipping from a mug that saysCowgirl Fueland flipping through her phone. Her gaze lifts just slightly when I walk in, and she sets the mug down more carefully than usual, like she’s already picked up on the storm brewing under my skin but isn’t ready to ask about it yet. She moves to the couch.
“You look like you haven’t slept,” she says, setting the mug down.
“I haven’t,” I admit, pacing slowly in front of the fireplace. “I need to tell him what Mason said last night. Before he hears it from anyone else.”
Harper leans forward, her expression sharpening with concern. “Then spill it to me first. Get it out.”
I nod, taking a shaky breath that rattles in my chest. “Mason said my dad didn’t just leave me the ranch. He left me full rights to the Blake family trust.” The words feel foreign and heavy in my mouth. “It’s… massive. Oil, land holdings, investments. I didn’t even know it existed.”
Harper’s eyebrows shoot up. “Holy crap.”
“I know,” I whisper. My voice feels fragile, like it might snap if I speak too loud. “And there’s more. He left a letter. Another one. It said if I accept the trust, Ialso inherit a seat on the board of the foundation he helped build in Austin.” I exhale shakily, my chest tight. “They want me to run it, marketing, public outreach, all of it.”
I pace in a slow circle, staring at the floor as if answers might appear in the grain of the wood. “And last night, after I left Mason, I got an email from my old ad agency. The partnership I wanted before all this, they want to talk about it again. They want to talk to me. Tomorrow.”
Harper whistles low, rising to stand. “Well, damn. That’s not a fork in the road, that’s a whole damn interstate.”
I laugh, but it comes out brittle. “What if I’m not meant for this life? What if I’m better at strategy and branding than fence posts and feed schedules?”
My eyes find hers, wide and uncertain. “What if I was never supposed to stay?”
Harper stands and walks over, placing her hands on my shoulders. “That might be true. Or it might just be fear talking. You’ve built something here, Avery. Something real.”
Her words settle over me like a prayer. I nod, because I know she’s right.
But that doesn’t make the choice any easier.
Behind me, I hear the creak of floorboards, Cash. I turn, heart in my throat, as he steps into the room, eyes on me like he already knows something’s wrong.
“It’s time,” I say, voice soft. “We need to talk.”
