"So was I. But the difference is, this is my life, Colton. My heart. You think I can just pack it up and start over somewhere else because your father drew a different line on a map?"
She stepped back again, hands shaking now.
I wanted to say something—anything—to pull her back. But I knew better. She wasn’t just angry. She was hurt. And this moment wasn’t mine to fix with words.
She took a breath, like she was trying to collect herself.
“I know you're not the one trying to buy this land,” she said, voice quieter but no less charged. “But this rescue… this life I’ve built—it’s fragile. Not because it’s small, or struggling. But because it’smine. Every inch of it, I had to fight for. Every permit, every volunteer, every win—it’s all been uphill. So when someone shrugs and says ‘just move,’ even if they don’t mean it like that… it feels like everything I’ve built can just be swept aside.”
I took a half-step forward, and I grabbed her two hands like I could catch the damage before it slipped further. “Riley. I said the wrong thing. Again. And I hate that I did. I was just trying to say something—anything—that made it feel fixable. But all I did was make it worse. I know what this place means to you. I panicked, yeah—but that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry I made it sound like Timberline could just be boxed up and moved like inventory.”
She blinked.
I exhaled hard, the words ripping out before I could stop them. “I just… I don’t know what to do when something matters this much. Well other than to find a way to screw it up, apparently.”
For a second, her face softened—just a crack.
"I want to believe you, Colton I really do."
And that’s when I said it. “You’re not mad at me. You’re scared.”
Her gaze sharpened.
I pressed on. “Scared that trusting me means betting on the version of me youhopeis real. And if you’re wrong…”
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
“…then it means you let your guard down for nothing,” I finished.
The silence stretched.
I hated that I understood that fear so well.
“I’ve never had someone believe in me and expect nothing in return,” I admitted. “But you did. Youdo. And I panicked because this—us—feels like the first thing that’s not about image or press or saving face. It’s just… something I really want to work.”
She didn’t move. But something in her eyes flickered.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me for reacting like an idiot,” I said. “But I’m asking you not to give up on me because of it.”
She looked at me like she wanted to believe every word.
Her gaze dropped to our hands, still clasped. Then she let go.
“I need time,” she said.
She walked out, leaving the door open behind her.
I wanted to go after her. But that felt like the wrong move.
I’d shown up. I’d been honest. No charm. No excuses. Now I need to earn her trust. Little by little.
So, I stood there, hands empty. learning what it meant to care enough … to wait.
Chapter eleven
Riley: Big Dreams
The metal gate clanged shut behind me, the sound sharper than usual in the early morning stillness. I winced and muttered, "Sorry," as a pair of ears perked up in the nearest kennel. "Didn't mean to startle you."
