Page 39 of Cherry Tree Ranch

She runs a hand across the seat, from the saddle horn to the cantle and back. “It’s gorgeous. Amazing it’s been sitting in there all this time.”

“Not any more. I’m going to clean it up and start using it again. That is, if it’s OK with you.”

Mom chuckles. “When are you going to realize this is your ranch and I just live here?”

“Mom,” I say, plopping on to the porch and resting the saddle carefully next to me.

“It’s true.” She sips her iced tea and leans back in her chair. “OK, so … I don’t mean to meddle, but I noticed you and Cash today. It’s easy to tell that he’s awfully fond of you.”

I blush to the edges of my ears. “We’re just friends. He has a girlfriend.” The sun is setting against the red cliffs, and coral-coloured clouds streak across the sky. I’ll never tire of this view. I open a jar of cherries I saved from preserving and stretch across the saddle to hand Mom a fork.

“Then why has he been here so much?” she teases.

“He says he’d like to work here,” I say, reaching for the leather cleaner. “He has some ideas about how to get the hay operation going too. I told him it’s impossible.”

“Hmm, maybe … I’ve been pondering what happened. The desk opening for you…”

“Oh yeah?” I rub a sponge across the saddle leather.

“I think the desk chose you.”

I chuckle. “It must have. I can’t stay away from it. Mom, I’m scared the ranch will stay cursed this way for ever.”

“So you believe in the curse now?”

I look down. “Not really. Well, maybe?” I say quietly.

“Well, I’m glad it scares you.”

“Why?” I ask, exasperated.

“Because it means you care. What’s the point if you don’t have something worth fighting for?”

I look at her. She fights for her health every damn day. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Mom retires to watch TV. I clean the rest of the saddle and then rub leather conditioner over every last inch. The porch lights allow me to work for an hour more, paying attention to each crevice in the tooling, each piece of leather holding it all together.

A text comes in from Emery with an attachment:

Got a label designed. Sorry it took a bit. Let me know what you think.

I tap on the attachment, and it’s an image she created. At the top of the label is a chunk of shimmering honeycomb oozing with honey. The golden honey pulls away from the honeycomb in one large drip and morphs into a brilliantly red cherry. Below are all the essentials for the product to be sold under the Colorado cottage foods act: the ingredients, my address, date produced. In the largest font, Emery wrote: product name?

Emery! I absolutely LOVE it. Thank you for your help. It means a lot to me.

Thanks. Glad I could be part of it somehow.

Me too, I say. What do you think about Cherry Tree Ranch for the name?

Brilliant! she writes. Adding it now. Let me know if you want a different font.

OK. Seriously – thank you! I’m going to build a website and make some pamphlets. Can I use the image you created?

Sure thing.

My heart swells. This may just work out after all. I peer down at the saddle. It too is a work of art. Now it’s ready to be appreciated again, and if I win the Young Food Producers competition, I may never have to sell it.

A tear falls from my eye at the thought of losing this ranch and all its history. I pull the tear away, staring at the wet drop on my hand. Mom said Daisy loved this place like I do, and I’m going to save it for both of us. For all of us.