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I know—Iknow—her lawyers have figured out a way around the stipulation in Dad’s will. Which means my mandatory stay on the ranch is about to officially end.

I can go back to Dallas. Meet Wheeler in cute coffee shops to work on the new collection’s rollout. Money hit my account at nine a.m. sharp the first of the month. It was enough to not only pay our overdue bills, but also to pay for the manufacture of the first batch of boots from our second collection.

It’s why I’ve been glued to my laptop at night. Our manufacturer has been wonderful about keeping us updated on any progress, and it’s been such a thrill to see our vision finally brought to life.

Why, then, do I have a brick in my gut?

“And?” I lick my lips and look out the window.

A deer is nosing at a patch of grass beside the gravel driveway. I like how unhurried she is. Nowhere to be but here.

“And you get to leave that hellhole! A judge ruled that thestipulation in your father’s will is essentially unenforceable. I don’t remember all the legal jargon, but now that we’re wrapping up the probate process, you’ll get your trust as soon as next week. What a win for us, huh?”

The saliva in my mouth thickens. “Yes. Totally. Wow. I…don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t sound so excited that my lawyers worked day and night on this. The bill’s going to be huge, you know.”

“Right. Of course. I really appreciate all the work you’ve done, Mom. Thank you. Sincerely. It’s only…a lot to process. This feels so sudden.”

“This feels sudden?” Her hurt is palpable through the phone. My chest clenches. “Sweetheart, this is what you wanted, right?”

“It is what I wanted,” I say on an exhale.Only when I think about leaving Lucky Ranch, I feel like dying.

I hadn’t realized how much had changed since my arrival a month ago until this very moment. Because really,everythingis different. How I feel about Hartsville, and life on the ranch, and working cattle, and the heat and the animals and the cowboys and Cash.

I’m falling in love with everything about this place.

I also love my job and my friends and family back in Dallas.

I don’t want to abandon my life there. I also don’t want to leave the ranch.

My mind whirls. I could split my time between Hartsville and Dallas. Do weeks here, weekends there? But that would leave Wheeler on her own for the large majority of our working hours. And I need to be on the ground in the city when our collection launches. Do events at local boutiques, host pop-ups at friends’ homes.

I could split weeks maybe? But Cash couldn’t be away from the ranch that much. And at some point, he’s going tostart work on restoring Rivers Ranch, which means his free time will be essentially zero.

Holy shit, I’m making plans for the future with Cash.

We haven’t talked about the future. At all. Our complete silence on the topic leads me to believe we’re both avoiding it.

I have no idea what Cash is thinking. He hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend. But he also won’t let me out of his sight. I catch him looking at me all day long. And the one time I tried to shower at the New House so I could save some time, he immediately put the kibosh on the idea.

“You shower with me at the cabin,” he’d said. “It’s the best part of my day.”

How could I not melt? I haven’t showered alone since.

I catch his brothers watching us. Wyatt has said a few things to me about the change in Cash. How he hasn’t been this pleasant in years and how he seems to have some extra pep in his step.

I haven’t told Wyatt about what Cash and I do after hours. It’s not my news to share. But Wyatt knows.

Everyone knows. And go figure, Cash was right—people seem to be quietly happy for us. There’s no ribbing. No sideways glances.

I just keep showing up to work, and everyone keeps respecting me for it. Simple as that.

The alarm goes off on my phone, yanking me back to the present. I drop my phone from my ear to turn it off.

“That your alarm for your birth control?” Mom asks. “You’re still taking birth control, right?”

Furrowing my brow, I head for the bathroom. “Of course I’m still taking birth control. What kind of question is that?”