The last thing she ever wanted to do was tie another man down. She hadn’t seen the warning signs with Darren, even though he started displaying them right after they’d wed. The phone calls that went straight to voicemail. The forgotten date nights. The many times he told her he had to stay late for work, only to come home smelling like another woman’s perfume. Maybe Sarah should be grateful that Lance gave her the opportunity to read things loud and clear before they got toodeep into their relationship, too serious about their feelings. Too hopeful for their future.
Still, those weren’t the only two ways to look at things. It wasn’t his side versus her side. Right and wrong. Things were rarely ever that cut and dry.
By the time the retreat had wrapped up its weeklong events, Sarah had enough distance from both Lance and their conversation that she could start to pick through the emotional debris with a little more clarity. Talking to her parents helped. Praying eased her worries a bit, too. But there was still one person’s advice she wanted more than all the others combined.
That’s how she found herself parked in front of Nana Jo’s ranch immediately after all of the writers had departed that afternoon. She had an autographed copy of Phil’s most recent book on her passenger seat that he’d asked her to pass along, plus a bag of baby carrots left over from an uneaten veggie tray that Sterling was going to otherwise discard.
It was for those reasons that she sat at the end of the long driveway, her vehicle in park, engine idling.
A fresh, white post had recently been hammered into the ground, and the newly mintedFor Salesign swayed back and forth on its hinges like an old porch swing.
Maybe it was the culmination of emotion that resulted from the retreat’s conclusion. The inevitable letdown after the big celebration. She couldn’t be sure. But the tears that made their way over her cheeks and down her chin couldn’t be stopped.
With the back of her hand, she swiped her chin. “Why would you sell the ranch, Nana Jo?” She spoke the words into the empty space of her vehicle. “Why?”
When Sarah had returned to Snowdrift, it never crossed her mind that things would have significantly changed. That was just the way of small towns. Progress came a little slower. Time moved a little differently. There was a consistency and comfortto be found in the predictable ways of mountain living. Of course, she knew life hadn’t come to a standstill when she left town. She wasn’t delusional or that self-centered. But there were tried and true truths that would always remain. The snow would always stick the first week in December. The church bells would always chime at noon. And the ranch would always be in the Major family’s name.
Blinking did little to halt the tears, but it did sharpen the words on the sign, bringing everything into a little more clarity. Fetching her cellphone from her purse, Sarah started dialing the realtor’s number on the screen. Maybe she could gather more information without needing to discuss it with Nana Jo directly.
Because if she had to hear it from Nana Jo’s mouth, she might just fall apart.
The call rang once. Twice. By the third ring, Sarah lost her nerve and hung up. She shifted her SUV out of park and into drive, about to make a U-turn for home when the familiar throaty rumble of an old diesel engine tugged her attention out her driver’s side window.
Nana Jo’s gray Ford pickup slowed to a stop next to her, and the woman reached across the cab to hand crank the window down. “I gather you saw the sign.”
Pretending she hadn’t was impossible, especially when she was parked right in front of it, her tears a clear giveaway of her reaction.
“Meet me up at the house for some cider,” Nana Jo instructed. “I’ll fill you in.”
“This seems so sudden.”There was a lump in Sarah’s throat that had remained wedged there since the moment that first tearspilled. She wasn’t crying now. She knew better than to make Nana Jo feel any guilt over what must have been a hopelessly gut-wrenching decision on her end. But just because she wasn’t outwardly crying, Sarah still grieved internally.
“It’s been a long time coming.” Nana lifted her mug to her mouth. “I knew it was something I’d have to do sooner or later. Sooner just came a little faster than I hoped it would.”
“I guess I never realized how much money it took to operate a ranch of this size. You always seemed to have everything under control.”
“I’ve been able to manage as far as energy and upkeep goes. But dollars and cents haven’t been as easy to come by.”
Sarah’s palms sweat against the mug cradled between her hands. She hated this. Hated that Nana Jo was being forced to sell the farm for financial reasons. The hardest part was that Sarah couldn’t help even if she had wanted to. Her own bank account was woefully empty, and she didn’t know anyone in the market for a hundred-acre horse ranch in the High Sierras.
“Have you had any interest?” She’d yet to take a sip of the cider. She didn’t trust that it would provide the comfort she needed.
“I have a gentleman coming by in a bit here to discuss numbers.”
Already? Sarah’s heart gave a little jolt. Of course, she wanted the best for Nana, and if that meant selling the place, then she assumed it was better to get the ball rolling, especially since things were already set in motion with the listing and the inquiries.
“I’m so sorry to hear this, Nana.”
“I’m sorry, too. I wish I would have been a better steward of this place. I sure hope my Harris isn’t disappointed that I couldn’t keep it going. I hate to think I’ve let him down.”
That was all it took for Sarah’s weak composure to completely unravel. “Oh, Nana.” She burst from her chair and rushed over to the woman, throwing her arms around her neck in a fierce hug.
“It’ll be okay.” Nana Jo’s hand smoothed over the back of Sarah’s head, patting down her curls affectionately. “Things will work out. Always do.”
Sarah pulled out of the embrace and slumped back into her chair. “But where will you go?”
“Not sure yet, but I’ll land somewhere.”
If Sarah had a place of her own, she would have offered it. She couldn’t stand the thought of the woman who had given so much to their community for so many years ending up without a house to call home.
