Page 112 of Ride Me Cowboy
“’Cause you’ve been acting like this is the last place on earth you wanna be these past couple of weeks.”
Yeah, I guess I had been doing that. I don’t deny it.
“This isn’t about Beth.” Saying her name makes my pulse rush. I look around the room, half expecting her to just appear. She was here for two months and yet somehow, she became as much a part of this place as any of us.
I swallow quickly, focusing. “This is about the ranch.”
And with another deep breath, I tell them everything. How dad was conned out of all his savings, then took out a mortgage on this place, to help someone from mom’s old life. Because he thought it was a way to be close to her.
I can see their shock, their confusion as to why dad didn’t tell any of us, and then, why I didn’t. I explain it all, and then sit up straighter, shoulders squared, getting the last bit out through a mouth that feels full of sawdust.
“It’s why Beth started the social media stuff. She’s hoping it can build up to the point we get sponsorships, you know, earn some extra cash to rebuild.”
“It’s a good plan,” Cassidy says. “And the account’s gone crazy. Right, Mack?”
She nods. “We’re almost at a million followers.”
I jerk my head to face her. “What?”
“Yeah, a couple of the late-night TV guys shared Mack’s video,” Nash says. “Then some ag companies started sharing the ranch clips.”
I let out a low whistle.
“I’ve actually been looking at some talent managers,” Nash admits. “It’s best if endorsement offers come through them, but it’s pretty clear that Beth’s plan might work.”
“And if it doesn’t, whatever prize money I make is for the ranch,” Beau offers.
“We can all help,” Nash agrees. “This place ain’t going anywhere, Cole.”
“You’re such a dumbass to have carried this all on your own so long,” Cass says, with a roll of her eyes, as she comes around behind me and puts an arm around my shoulders. “A big, sweet dumbass.” She kisses the top of my head.
Beth was right—telling them was the right thing to do. I just wish she was here to see that. I just wish she was here, full stop.
Chapter Thirty-One
Cole
THE BOXES ARRIVE THE next day, and I can tell by the way Austin unpacks each crate that this is no ordinary wine. He spends at least an hour in the living room, repeating the same phrase: “Holy crap.”
But she doesn’t just send wine. Included with the package is the broad brimmed hat I gave her, that she’d put on and looked like such a ranch girl in. I run my hands over the felted brim, my gut falling flat to my feet, as I remember her wearing it and realize I would do anything—absolutely anything—to know she still had this.
I didn’t give her anything else.
I didn’t give her anything she could take away with her from this place, anything she could remember us by. It was just this stupid hat, and now, she doesn’t even have that.
She’s sent two more notes. One for Austin. One for me. I leave the room to read mine, but I needn’t have bothered. It’s short and to the point:This belongs on the ranch.
I scrunch the paper up after I read it and stuff it in my pocket, my heart racing. I put the hat inside, then go the stables, careful not to look up to the apartment above. Careful not to think about how, for just a few short weeks, being up there with Beth felt an awful lot like how I’m supposed to be living.
I saddle up Rowdy and take him out, riding right to the edge of our land in one direction, then stopping, hopping off, and just standing there, looking at the fence that separates us from the Callahan’s, without even seeing it.
This belongs on the ranch.
And my heart starts to beat for a different reason now.
Beth’s right.
The hat belongs here. But so does she. And I damn well sent her packing, because I was too scared to accept what that meant.
