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Every guest has a beer in their hand. Chef Silas digs a shovel in the earth, uncovering the pit-pig he buried yesterday. Music plays on the speakers from an ancient stereo. A small campfire burns proudly in the center of the field. Beyond us, the mountains stretch the sky, the sunset a vibrant lilac glow.
Ford, Davis and Charlie stand around like broad-shouldered bouncers waiting to rush in if there’s trouble. There’s an energy radiating off the Montgomerys. They’re wired. Proud. They love this ranch so much it shines on every one of their faces.
Guests sit on long logs, laughing, eating their feast on paper plates. They snap selfies and chat with the ranch hands and staff. Soon, they’ll go back to their lives, but I hope they take a piece of Runaway Ranch with them.
It’s what I’ve done this summer.
I belong here.
It won’t be easy to tell my brother and father I’m staying, but it won’t be hard either.
My entire happiness, my heart, is here with Charlie.
Even though Runaway Ranch will be closed until next summer, I plan to continue with their social media posts. The more I can grow their account, the better. And by working with my travel agency to pre-book influencers and get the word out via social media, there’s no doubt in my mind that next year, they’ll open with a bang.
Next summer and every summer after.
And I’ll be here.
Smiling, I glance up at the clear blue sky, the new cowboy hat Charlie bought me perched atop my head. With the wind at my back, the sunshine beats down my face. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.
At last, I feel complete.
This summer I learned there is so much I can do.
I’ve chosen the direction of my life. No one else.
I’m strong because of my heart, not in spite of it.
I have a cowboy who loves me.
I have friends and found another family.
Staying with Charlie, living in Resurrection, it’s what I’m meant to do.
When I glance over, I catch Charlie watching me with pride in his eyes. He gives me a wink, and my stomach warms in the way it does whenever I see him.
With life.
With love.
Raucous laughter gets my attention, and I see a group of guests dancing in the pasture.
I back up to the edge of the tree line, wanting to get a group shot for the end of the year video I’m putting together. As soon as I snap my photo and lower the phone, my world spins.
“Oh no,” I murmur.A flutter.Black dots pinprick my vision.
Wanting privacy, I move into the woods and press two fingers against my throat, monitoring the rapid pulse of my heartbeat. Between hauling firewood for the farewell dinner and running back and forth to the cabin for supplies, I’ve pushed myself too hard today.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing a hand to my heart. “You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”
I have to be.
A rustling in the woods startles me and I spin around.
Ten yards away, Fallon and Wyatt stand in the clearing, inches from each other. Their low voices sound heated.
I bite my lip. I’m a witness to something I’m not supposed to see, but unable to turn away.
