I walk out onto the porch and she’s standing there at the railing, fidgeting with the reins in her hands.
“You leaving?” she asks, voice low and timid.
“Our week is up—figured you’d be kicking us out first thing. The boys all said they’re done playing cowboys.”
She nods, a little stiff. “You weren't playing anymore, Denton.”
“No, ma’am I wasn’t,” I say, no hesitation.
There’s no gleam in her eyes but there’s something honest there that makes me want to stay—even if I’m not sure what I’d be signing up for.
“I could stay,” I blurt out.
“You got your tour to get back to. I have a few rodeos coming up, anyway. I won't be around much longer,” she says, looking away from me.
“Then I’ll go with you. Are they pro rodeos? I have a contact so we can play at any pro rodeo. I never agreed to tour, Sorrel.”
“You have to, Denton. You’re meant to be a performer. This life is too slow for you. You’ll grow complacent and hate it here eventually.”
Part of me knows she’s right, but there’s something worth exploring between us. I just can’t leave yet. I look at the guys loading up, ready to get on with their lives, but my boots feel rooted here.
“Hey, y’all, listen up,” I shout in their direction. “Head home for a while, spend some time with your families, play some smoke-filled bars in Nashville like old times, and I’ll call when we got a gig lined up. I—I can’t leave here just yet,” I stutter.
They all look at me with understanding.
Ray gives my shoulder a squeeze as he walks past me and into the bus.
Fuck, I feel horrible. I haven’t even told them about the tour yet. Was it wrong of me? Yes. But I will eventually. I just need a little more time to get things sorted out. This isn’t just about proving to Sorrel I’m not Huck. It’s about being somewhere real. Somewhere I can finally stop running.
. . .
I don’t waste any time after the others leave. I grab some gear and head straight to the barn.
I figure if I’m going to prove myself, I better get my hands dirty. Sorrel will see I’m serious about this way of life and that I can slow down. I’m not going anywhere yet.
Jo’s breakfast is still settling in, but the smell of hay and leather is exactly what I need to be around. I find Sutton and Ryder already at work, fixing a fence near the north pasture.
“Morning, Denton,” Ryder calls, wiping sweat off his brow. “Ready to earn your keep?”
“More than ready!”
Ryder grins, handing me the fencing pliers. “Good man. We’ll put you to work.”
The hours pass fast, filled with fence repairs, feeding cattle, and even wrangling a stubborn colt that refused to be caught. Sorrel was nearby, watching but not saying much. I catch her eyes a few times, and each time, there’s a flicker of something—curiosity?
Maybe a little respect? I can’t quite put a finger on it.
We take up our usual lunch spots. It feels different this time, partially because I’m supposed to be gone, and I think she wasn't expecting we’d be here together again today.
“I’m not easy to figure out,” she says quietly. “And I have trust issues.”
I nod. “I’m not here to fix things overnight. Just to show up and show you I won’t just walk away.”
She glances at me, a small smile breaking through. “Well, you’re doing better than most.”
Maybe this really could be the start of something real. That little flicker of hope ignites and continues growing in my chest.
15
