Page 59 of Cherry Tree Ranch

Applause fills the tent as Sadie makes her way to the centre and each judge shakes her hand. I fidget and drum my heels against the ground. The chair is hard beneath me and the air is hot and stuffy. Images of for sale signs and auctioneers calling out prices for the ranch and the desk and Daisy’s saddle muddle in my mind until I hear:

“And the first runner up, winner of two thousand dollars, is … Dahlia Rhodes at Cherry Tree Ranch.”

I didn’t win.

Mom pats my back.

Mildred waves me forward. “Dahlia, come on up here!”

I’m dumbstruck, and everyone’s eyes are on me. It takes everything I’ve got to walk up there, half numb. After that disaster, I know I should be grateful. The money is great, or it should be, but the irony is Dad will get every last cent. What I really needed to save the ranch was to win.

“And the winner of our grand prize – a booth at the Colorado State Fair and two thousand dollars is…”

I zone out as the winner is announced. I spin myself into a web of pessimism – about myself, about thinking I could win, about losing the ranch and about Cash kissing his fake, or maybe not-so-fake, girlfriend.

After accepting my cheque and a giant red ribbon, Mom hugs me.

“Congratulations, my love. You’re one step closer to your dream! I’m so proud of you.”

“But I didn’t win.”

“No, but every little bit helps.” She picks up the cheque and ribbon, looking tired. “I’m going to rest in the car until you’re ready to leave, OK?”

I go to say goodbye and thank you to Mildred and the judges.

“You’re most welcome,” says the male judge kindly. “Your website loaded on my phone in the end. You’ve done a great job there – your ranch is clearly very special.”

Then I head to the parking lot, clutching my balled-up tablecloth to my chest, exhausted. My phone buzzes. Lani wants to video call. It buzzes again. Lani sends a voice note. Again. Lani sends a text: What’s happening?

I’m surprised she’s so curious about the competition. Before I have a chance to answer her, I hear my name being called.

“Dahlia!” Cash comes jogging up behind me.

“Hey…” I say. “Where’ve you been?”

He looks down at my free hand and, to my surprise, gently takes it in his. “I couldn’t do it, Dahlia.”

I stare down at his hand holding mine and tip my head in confusion. “Cash, what the heck’s going on? You couldn’t do what?”

“I couldn’t fake it with Kaylee any more. I left the booth and the interview. I had to find you. I hid out and waited until you were done, because…” He looks hopefully at me, shifting awkwardly in his boots. “Well, there’s a dance tonight after the awards ceremony. I’d really like you to come—”

“There you are!” someone shouts.

We whip round. Billy’s marching towards us. Instantly, I feel like I’m a little kid in trouble. His eyes bore into us both.

“Cash. We had a deal,” Billy growls. He takes Cash’s sleeve, pulling him away from me.

Cash yanks his arm back. “I’m not doing this any more, man.”

“Cash, you don’t need to—” I begin, hoping to diffuse the situation. I don’t want any of this drama. Cash can’t throw his sponsorship away just to ask me to a dance, or whatever it is he’s trying to do.

I step to the side, needing to escape this disaster of a day and look for the car.

“The hell you aren’t!” Billy yells at Cash. “This is unacceptable. First you abandon mid-interview, on film, and now this?” Billy points an accusatory hand at me.

I jerk my head back, shocked to be treated like I’m just a piece of arm candy.

“You’re jeopardizing the whole campaign, my reputation, the brand. Get back over there with Kaylee and patch this up, you hear? Fulfil the duties of your contract. May I remind you it stipulates you give thirty days’ written notice of any changes to your relationship—”