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“You sure?”

He sips his coffee. “I’m sure.”

“You’re gonna miss me, aren’t you?”

“Maria will. She likes you.”

I smile, even as my heart does another flip. Why do I get the feeling Cash is disappointed? Does he actually want me out there with him?

Is he actually going to miss me?

“Enough with the guilt trip,” I say.

His eyes glitter. “Passive-aggressive ain’t my style, Mollie. But you’re the one who’s gotta share the news with your horse. She cries, that’s on you.”

“She’s Dad’s horse.” I shove Cash’s shoulder. “And horses don’t actually cry, do they?”

He shrugs. “You’re about to find out, aren’t you?”

I don’t want to laugh, but I do.

I don’t want to think about Cash and Maria and the other cowboys as I clear out my inbox later that morning in the soaring, silent office at the front of the New House, but I do.

Wheeler picks right up when I call her. “Hey, hey.”

“Good morning,” I singsong. “How’s it going?”

“Don’t you sound chipper! Please tell me it’s because you got railed by a cowboy with a rock-hard?—”

“Only railing I’ve dealt with this week was the kind that makes a fence.”

Wheeler chuckles. “Look at you, doing authentic ranch shit! I’m proud of you. But I’d be prouder if you did the other kind of railing too.”

Trust me, I’ve thought about it. A lot.

“So, my stipend’s about to hit our account.”

“You’re not very smooth at changing the subject. Wait, wait. You didn’t get railed, but you’re getting close. Oh my God!” She’s squealing now. “Yay for you! There’s a reason they say cowboys do it better, and faster, and harder, and all the things.”

“Actually, I invited Palmer to the ranch.”

Dead silence.

Then, “You’re telling me you’re surrounded by hot cowboys, but you’re going to have sex with Gordon Gekko instead?”

“Oh, stop. Just because Palmer’s not your cup of tea?—”

“He’s fine, Mollie. But that’s all he is. Fine. And not in the sexy sense of the word either.”

Wheeler’s hung out with Palmer and me a few times, usually at the tail end of a night out when Palmer or I send each other the proverbialU up?text. If he’s close by, he’ll usually meet me at whatever bar I’m at, and then we’ll head to my place or to his.

“He gets the job done,” I say diplomatically.

“That’s a job someone else can do better. How’s Cash?”

Clicking on an email, I roll my eyes. “He’s fine. So once we have the money, let’s firm up our completion dates with?—”

“You’re cute.”