Everyone joins in the laughter, all of us grinning from ear to ear as we take turns acting out different animals. Each oneis sillier than the last. The room is filled with pure joy, and everything feels light.
I have to admit, this feels more like my family than the people I grew up with. Alice and Violet have always been there, and my goodness, I havemissedthem.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sawyer
I’ve never beengood at family dinners. Not that I don’t love them. It’s just… a lot.
Maggie’s finger twirls the spoon in her coffee, her brow furrowed, eyes glued to the swirling liquid as if the answer to some deep mystery lies just beneath the surface.
She’s always that way. Thinking, calculating, dissecting. As if she’s got a permanent equation running in her head.
Mom’s not looking up from her phone, her thumb tapping the screen, scrolling through something practical, probably Googling “best ways to save money on grocery bills” or some other real-world problem.
She’s the one who plans.
The one who’s always got the practical answers to everything.
Dad’s across the table, his hands folded neatly on his lap, his posture straight but relaxed. The quiet anchor in this chaotic little family. You could set a bomb off in here, and he wouldn’t flinch. He’s been the rock for so long that he might as well be made of stone.
Rover’s sprawled out on the rug, tail thumping lazily against the floor, syncing himself to the rhythm of the conversation. His eyes are half closed. He’s just content to be in the middle of it all.
Every now and then, his tail gives another lazy tap, as if he’s got his own commentary to add, though none of us are really paying attention to him. But that’s fine… he doesn’t care. He’s living his best life.
“How’s the ranch going, Sawyer?” Dad asks, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “I’ve heard it’s been a struggle this year. Is that right?”
I give him my best “everything’s fine” smile. “Same as usual. Cattle, hay, numbers. Nothing new. Nothing to worry about.”
Mom looks at me over the top of her glasses. “You know, you’ve always been so good with numbers, Sawyer. Maybe you should be doing something bigger with that. Outside the ranch. Outside this town.”
I take a slow breath, but I keep it casual as I respond to the statement I hate the most. “I’m good where I’m at, Mom. It’s not about bigger. It’s about what needs to be done. I like it there.”
I can feel the shift in the room. It’s always the same thing. I think they want me to take this massive leap, but I can’t tell if they know what that leap is. Or maybe they think I should be somewhere else entirely.
I’ve been out here long enough now to know what they really mean: They want me to leave Colter Creek. Leave the ranch, leave the people.
But that’s never going to happen.
“I just think you’ve got more potential than balancing books, you know?” Maggie chimes in. “You could do more with your skills. You could run something bigger… well, important.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You mean like a corporation?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Something that’s more, I guess. There’s a lot of potential out there. You’re stuck in the same place.”
I try not to clench my jaw. “I’m not stuck. Colter Creek’s where I belong.” It comes out sharper than I meant, but I don’t apologize for it. “High Ridge Ranch is where I want to be.”
Dad looks at me for a long moment, then nods, trying to make up his mind about something. “You know, your mom and I only want what’s best for you, Sawyer. We’ve always supported you. But you’ve got to be honest with yourself. You’re still doing the same thing you were five years ago, even though you’re older now.”
I feel my chest tighten, but I don’t show it. The thing is, I am trying. I’m doing everything I can to keep High Ridge Ranch afloat. But it’s not easy. The land is barely making any money, cattle sales are down, and we’re sinking slowly with every passing month.
I want to scream at them, “You have no idea what it’s like. How hard I’m working to keep everything together.”
But I don’t. Instead, I just nod, picking at the food on my plate. “I know, Dad. I’ll figure it out.”
Maggie’s eyes are still locked on me, and I can feel her thoughts swirling as fast as her spoon in that coffee cup. She doesn’t let it go, not when something’s on her mind.
“You know,” she says, “it’s notjustabout the ranch. You’re not exactly a kid anymore, Sawyer. You’re not stuck in this bubble, either.”
