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“Just like me, huh?” Noble hands the paper back and tugs on the brim of Jonah’s hat. “Let me see your hands.” Noble holds his up and the boy puts his up too, as if to measure their size.

“Whoa! Pretty big paws for a little guy.” He leans in and says, “Keep your dreams bigger than the bulls, and you’ll get there, Jonah. Promise.”

It’s like I’m watching a movie.

“Can we just . . .?” Jonah’s mom steps forward with her phone out. “Sorry,” she tips her head down and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Quick photo? Is that . . .?”

Is she . . . blushing?

The old man groans and walks away. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

“This isn’t a man for your kid to look up to, lady,” another guy says before following his friend outside.

Even with my slightly obstructed view of Noble’s face, I can see the shift in his demeanor. It’s odd. He poses for the photo, and thanks them as they walk away, excited, scrunched shoulders, looking at the phone.

To the world outside of Silverwood, he’s Noble Kane, World Champion bull rider.

To me, he’s just a boy I used to know.

A boy I used to love.

And that boy sprinted out of Silverwood without so much as a word and never looked back.

No warning. No note. No reason. Nothing.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

The shock and surprise of seeing him for the first time in years is washed over by anger and hurt.

If he hadn’t skipped town when he did, there’s a good chance the locals would’ve run him out, tossed him in jail, or worse.

Stupidly, I convinced myself that I was going to be the one to save him. Me, the knobby-kneed tough girl, the one with all the brothers, the one who’d rather rope and ride than fawn and giggle. I got this dumb idea that I’d tell him exactly how I felt about him and somehow, that would turn everything around.

I could convince him to stop self-destructing. I could love the pain away. I could be his anchor and his best friend. Make him see he wasn’t alone.

Dumb, right?

It doesn’t really matter because I never got the chance.

I still don’t know what it was that drove Noble out of town. He’d broken the fence keeping Dan Mitchell’s cows on his property, a prank that resulted in a seven-day hunt for cattle, some of which Dan never found. He vandalized the school and picked fights with people he didn’t even know. He’d even driven Rip McCauley’s tractor into the lake.

That last one I didn’t mind so much, because Rip McCauley was a grumpy old nightmare who used to complain every time any of us kids cut through his yard.

And with every idiotic thing Noble did, I felt him slip further and further away.

He stopped showing up at the ranch as often. He stopped texting. He stopped talking to me, and then one day, he was just—gone.

No word of where he was headed. No idea if we’d ever see him again. He popped up on the rodeo circuit a year or so later, more proof that he was chasing danger at every turn. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he had a death wish.

So yeah, I’m all out of grace for Noble Kane.

It’s one of the reasons I’ve refused to watch him compete. The other reasons? Well, those are a lot more complicated.

Far as I can tell, Noble grew up to be exactly who I thought he’d be once he left. Never mind that there was a time when I was sure he was different.

I won’t make that mistake again.

I realize I’ve been hiding in the condiment aisle, holding my breath, which is ridiculous because I’ve got stuff to do.