Page 113 of Sunrise & Serenity

“How tight are things, Sterling?”

He tips his head back for a beat. “Cash flow’s tight. Feed and fuel costs are up, cattle prices have been unpredictable, and between Chance’s breeding program and the expansion, we’ve pretty much burned through our safety net.”

I stare at him, jaw clenched. “You should’ve told me.”

His lips flatten, his nostrils flaring. “You had your own life.”

“What about the cash from my winnings? That didn’t help?”

Lowering his head, he rubs the back of his neck. “Of course it did. A big chunk of the expansion wouldn’t exist without your investment. But right now, it’s just lumber and invoices. We won’t see a return until it’s operating. Even then, it’s a gamble. If it doesn’t generate enough revenue…” His jaw tightens. “We need it, though. Cattle keep this place running. What they don’t do anymore is give us much room for the future.”

He lets out a breath and kicks at the dirt.

“I’ve been back for months now. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He huffs. “Why would I?”

“Because I’m a member of this family. Because you may be the ranch manager, but it belongs to all of us.”

He straightens to his full height so we’re eye to eye. “You’re right, it does, and you’ve invested your fair share.” A muscle pulses in his jaw. “But don’t pretend you haven’t had one foot out the door since you got back. Half the time it feels like you’re already gone.”

My head spins at the accusation. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Still working just as hard as the rest of you.”

He steps back. “Physically, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you’ve decided this is where you want to be. Why would I dump it on you when the rest of us are the ones trying to figure things out long-term?”

His words hit low and hard. As much as I want to deny it, he’s not wrong. Somewhere along the way, my family stopped expecting me to stay long enough to make a difference.

I drag a hand over my jaw. It stings, but I can’t exactly blame them. And I sure as hell don’t want to keep proving them right.

“So, what can we do about it?”

He drops down onto a straw bale, and I take a seat on one opposite him. “We?”

I nod. No matter what offers Rick might bring me, I want to support my family and the ranch however I can.

Sighing, he rakes his hand through his hair. “I’ve been exploring options. Ways to make sure Wild Ember stays financially stable. The last thing I want is to have to sell off land, or, god forbid, livestock.”

I wince. Chance would never forgive him if any of his precious breeding lines had to be sold off.

A realization hits me. “That’s why you hired Sage? Hoping a photographer from New York would give us better marketing material?”

His laugh is dry. “Better than sending Taryn out to take happy snaps, anyway.”

It strikes me, maybe for the first time, how much happened here while I was away. How much weight my dad and siblings carried while I kept moving. How much they’re still carrying now.

As I study my oldest brother—the stubble on his jaw and the tension around his eyes—something barbed grips my ribs. We used to be close. And when things got hard around here? I was gone.

My phone is heavy in my back pocket, Rick’s last message still sitting unanswered.

Not long ago, any solid offer from Rick would probably have had me packing already. Now the idea causes an uncomfortable tug in my gut.

An image of Sage appears in my mind: her hazel eyes, the way she feels in my arms, how she looked as the sun rose in front of us. For the first time in years, the idea of staying doesn’t feel like being trapped.

It feels dangerous for a whole different reason.

“Holden! Sterling!” Dad calls out. “You’re going to miss the speech.”

Smirking, I stand. “Better go. Wouldn’t want to deprive River of a captive audience.”