Page 137 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

I missed her.

I missed the way she laughed, the way she curled into my side like I was her goddamn safe place. I missed the way she kissed me—soft and searching, like she needed me as much as I needed her. I missed how she fought through her fears, let me see the ugliest parts of her and still found a way to shine.

And fuck, I loved her.

Even after all this. Even after realizing she had an entire life I’d never known about. Even after she didn’t show up, after she iced me out.

But what did it matter? The odds had never felt like they were in my favor. Losing my mom taught me real quick that love wasn’t some guarantee, it was something you could have one day and wake up to without the next. And with Fable… it felt like I’d been reaching for something I wasn’t built to keep.

“Nothing. My mom. Fable. Everyone,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I’m better off alone.” I turned, gripping the fence so tight my knuckles ached inside my cast. “I should do what I planned—focus on the barn, build my stock, work the land. That’s what matters. That’s what lasts.”

Gatlin let out a slow breath. “That’s a lonely way to live, brother.”

I huffed out a humorless chuckle. “Been doin’ it my whole life.”

He shook his head. “A barn’s just a barn without someone to share it with. A life’s just work if you ain’t got someone to come home to. Love, partnership—that’s what makes it worth it.”

I clenched my jaw, not wanting to hear it. Not wanting to believe it. Because every night when I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, all I wanted was her.

“It doesn’t matter now,” I muttered. “She’s got some fiancé coming to bring her back to Chicago.”

And the worst part? I wanted to run to her door and beg her not to go.

Dalton let out a loud groan, throwing his head back like I was exhausting him. “Alright, I’ve had enough of your brooding bullshit. You need to talk to her, man. It’s been long enough, and you’re grumpy as shit without her.”

Gatlin grumbled under his breath. “I hate miscommunication.”

I snapped my gaze to him, my whole body tensing. “It’s not miscommunication,” I bit out. “She’s communicating fine by shutting me out.”

Gatlin shook his head like I was the biggest idiot he’d ever met. “For both our sakes, if not your own, go over there, dude.”

I stared out at the field, my mind running in a thousand different directions. If she had some fiancé coming, if she was moving, if she was leaving this town for good, then I needed answers.

I could sleep on it and go later if she’d even open the door for me.

“Maybe I’ll go tomorrow,” I muttered.

No, I needed to go tomorrow, to face whatever reaction she had head-on, even if it meant standing outside in the cold with my pride in shambles. Delaying wouldn’t make it any easier; if anything, it would only give my doubts more time to sink their claws in.

Dalton scoffed. “Yeah, ’cause one more night of stewing with this is the right move.”

I ignored him, looking out toward the road that led straight to her place. One more night. One more night to sleep on it. Then I’d get the truth—whether I wanted to hear it or not.

51

Fable

“I’m fine, Harleigh. Seriously.” I sighed, shoving our laptops into their cases.

We’d spent the entire day camped out in my living room, editing social media posts, curating content for the bulls, and finalizing a full marketing plan for the month. It had been a productive day, but as the evening stretched on, exhaustion hit.

Harleigh arched a brow. “How’s the therapist?”

I paused, my hands stilling over my laptop case.

I’d taken an extended lunch to meet with my therapist, something I’d been forcing myself to do. Talking about my OCD, about the spirals and compulsions that had ruled my life for so long, felt like peeling back layers of skin. In therapy, I’d admitted something I hadn’t even let myself fully process before.

“I fucked up with Beau,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.