He leftme.
It hurts to breathe.
“So,” Seth says, his voice a careful, neutral intrusion into the quiet. He sets the plates down on the end of the table. “First light. That work for you? For the samples?”
I force myself to meet his gaze, to pull myself back into the present, back to the reason I’m here.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice a little hoarse. “First light is perfect. It’ll be easier to work with them before they get agitated by the day. We’ll need to separate a few of the ones who are showing symptoms but aren’t too weak. Maybe three or four. And we’ll need a clear, flat area to work in, away from the main herd.”
Tex abandons the fire and walks over, his easy grin returning, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time.
“Say no more. We’ll have them corralled and waiting for you before the sun’s even up.” He leans against the table, his presence a welcome, vibrant energy. “We’ll be there, Sedona. Don’t you worry about that.”
“Me too,” Seth adds, his voice firm and sure. “I’ll be there, Sedona. Whatever you need.”
Their promises wrap around me, a warm blanket against the evening chill. It’s a small victory, but it feels huge.
It’s a step forward, a crack in the wall of my own making. I feel like I’m not just a ghost haunting my father’s life, but a person who can actually do something good.
“Thank you,” I say, and the words are thick with an emotion I can’t name. “Really.”
The rest of the dinner passes in a blur of quieter conversation. Clara asks Seth about the rodeo, and he tells her about team roping with Billy, his voice filled with a quiet pride.
Tex chimes in with stories of his own bronc-riding adventures, embellishing the details for dramatic effect, making Clara laugh. I smile and nod, but a part of me is still watching Billy walk away.
When the plates are clear and the fire is dying down to embers, Clara and I stand to leave. “We should probably get going,” I say. “Early morning.”
Tex walks us to the car, pulling me into another one of his signature hugs. “Get some rest, superstar. We’ll see you in themorning.” He even gives Clara a quick, friendly squeeze on the shoulder. “It was a pleasure, Clara.”
Seth is there too, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Drive safe.” His eyes meet mine in the dim light from the porch. “See you in the morning.”
As we climb back into the sedan, Clara lets out a long, slow breath. “Well,” she says, buckling her seatbelt. “That was… intense.”
I just nod, my hands tight on the steering wheel. I don’t trust myself to speak.
The drive back to my father’s house is quiet. The moon is high now, a silver coin in an inky sky, casting the rolling hills in a ghostly light.
I keep my eyes on the road, but my mind is back at the ranch, replaying the evening on a loop. Tex’s easy charm, Seth’s quiet support, and Billy’s cold, hard anger.
He hates me. The thought is a constant drumbeat in my head. And the worst part is, I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if I can.
I thought that by coming back, by helping with the cattle, I could somehow make amends, could show him that I’m not the person who left all those years ago. But all I’ve done is make it worse.
I’ve forced my way back into his life, and he resents me for it.
I thought time would heal this wound. I thought that after five years, the anger would have faded into a dull ache, something we could both live with.
I was so stupidly naive. I thought he would understand my reasons, or at least hate me less by now. But he doesn’t. His anger is as fresh and sharp as the day I left, and it’s a barrier between us that feels impossibly high.
Clara reaches over and places her hand on my arm. “You did a good thing tonight, Sedona. You made a plan. You’re helping them.”
“I know,” I say in barely a whisper. “But it doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It’s more than enough,” she says firmly. “It’s everything.”
We pull into the driveway, the house dark and silent. I kill the engine, and the quiet that rushes in feels different this time. It’s not empty; it’s just… calm.
I’m exhausted, a weariness that goes all the way to my soul, but for the first time since I got back, it’s not a desperate, panicked exhaustion.
