My professional anger and personal rage are feeding off each other now, building into something that feels powerful and dangerous. Senator Martinez has no idea what he's unleashed.
If Martinez can manipulate federal agencies this easily—what else is he capable of? The anonymous threats that have been haunting me suddenly take on new meaning. Was that him too, trying to drive me away before I could interfere with his daughter's prize?
Something cold and calculating settles in my chest, pushing aside the heartbreak and guilt until all that remains is a quest to right a wrong.
Yet even as this clarity fuels my determination, a hollow ache remains. This revelation doesn't change what matters most. The baby. The innocent life.
Wyatt is still having a baby with another woman.
And he never once mentioned to me that there was even a possibility—not during our time in Jackson Hole, not during those quiet evenings on the porch when I thought we were sharing everything. I know Jess would tell me that it happened before we were together and that I should let it go but I can’t, not when there’s a child involved. Because I know that Wyatt will forever be tied to Brittney through that kid. He has to be. Exposing Martinez won't magically fix any of that.
Martinez made a critical mistake: heunderestimated me. I'm not going to disappear from the world as Wyatt's heartbroken ex-girlfriend, devastated and defeated.
I'm a political strategist and a cowgirl who knows how to fight dirty when the situation calls for it.
I will win, but I will also lose so that Wyatt’s baby doesn’t have to.
Forty-Seven
IF I LOST HER, NONE OF THIS WOULD MEAN A THING.
WYATT
I left Kinsley standing there, barefoot on the porch, and I haven't been able to breathe right since. It doesn't matter how many bulls I ride, I can’t shake her.
My phone buzzes. Brittney's name flashes across the screen for the third time in ten minutes. I’m not making the mistake of answering her again. Last time I did she blathered on about nursery colors and where we are going to live. I can’t do that again.
I silence it and send a text:About to ride. What’s up.
Her response comes through immediately.Ourultrasound is next week. Thursday at 2pm. Thought you'd want to meet our baby.
The words blur on the screen.Meet our baby.
This is getting real. Too real.
A baby. My baby. This would be my kid. My blood. Whatever mess I've made, whatever consequences I'm facing, there's a child coming into the world who didn't ask for any of this—who deserves a father who shows up for him or her.
I type back before I can overthink it:I'll be there.
Her response is almost instant.See you then.<3
“What have I done?” I mumble—not for the first time.
My phone rings again, and this time it's Dad's name on the screen. I almost don't answer—I'm supposed to be getting my head right before this ride. The punishment keeps on coming—but I deserve it.
"Yeah?" I answer.
"When are you coming home?" he snips.
Never. “I don’t know. Why?”
“Because I got a heartbroken cowgirl in my cottage and you're out playing bull rider like nothing’s changed."
I close my eyes against the image that brings up. Kinsley, loving me but sending me away. "She told me to go."
"You’re making the biggest mistake of your life."
My grip tightens on the phone. "Oh? I thought bull riding was the biggest mistake of my life.”
