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I understood what James had been saying. I knew he meant well. And I knew he absolutely believed everything he’d told me.

But I also thought that in this instance, he might be wrong.

With Boone, I felt more wanted and appreciated and seen than I’d ever felt with anyone else. He listened when I spoke and understood even the things I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud. He never hesitated to show he cared about me, whether it was in front of the other hands or even the sheriff. And I never felt as though I needed to act a certain way around him or pretend to know things I didn’t because there were no conditions on his affection.

He liked me just as I was, sparkly cowboy hat and all.

And the fact that I was considering giving up my life in New York to live on a ranch “in the middle of nowhere” should have been proof enough of how much I cared for Boone.

So, sure, I’d rushed into things in the past. James was right that I’d thought I’d been born to be an interior designer, and then a house flipper, and then a travel influencer. But that had been an entirely different situation because back then, I’d been a different person.

I chewed my lip. But what if James is right?

It wasn’t just my heart on the line; it was also Boone’s. Because what James had been too kind to dwell on in our conversation was that when I’d convinced myself I wanted a future with James, I’d convinced him as well. He’d wasted years waiting for me to be ready, and in the end, I’d only caused him pain. The fact that he was happy with Sawyer now didn’t negate that.

What if the same thing happened with Boone? What if I gave up my life in NYC and moved out here to be a full-time cowboy? What if we fell in love and Boone imagined a future for us that I couldn’t give him? What if I broke Boone’s heart?

I couldn’t do that to Boone. I couldn’t promise him anything I didn’t know for certain I could give him…

But how was I supposed to know if falling for Boone was for real or just another daydream?

How was I supposed to know if I could trust my own heart?

I buried my head in my hands. Just this morning, everything had seemed so clear. I’d been content, knowing exactly where I wanted to be and the person I wanted to be with. Now, everything was so muddled. How the hell was I supposed to figure this out?

Just then, my phone rang with another call. If it was James with more “helpful” advice, I wasn’t interested. But when I looked at the screen, I saw that it was my mother.

I blinked. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d called me. Certainly never this early. As far as I was aware, she didn’t understand that the world existed before noon.

A note of alarm sounded in the back of my head. I answered the phone with a cautious hello.

“Richard.” Her voice caught on my name. It was probably the most emotion I’d heard from her in years.

My heart rate shot through the roof. I gripped the phone tighter. “Everything okay?”

She took a breath, pulling herself back together. “Your father passed away last night.”

I blinked at a tiny pile of rocks near the toe of my boot while my brain tried to make sense of her words, but it couldn’t. “What?” I demanded.

“Your father is gone. He died, Richard.”

Sound roared in my ears, and my vision went splotchy. “What?” I gasped, repeating myself because surely I’d misheard her. “I don’t—I—I don’t understand. What happened?”

“A stroke in his sleep, apparently,” she said, no-nonsense once again. “He didn’t suffer.”

I pressed my fingers against my eyes, trying to take in this new information. “But—but that can’t be. I mean, he’s Dad. I thought he was in good health? He’s not that old. I just—”

“You’re needed at home, Richard,” she said, cutting me off before I could wrap my head around what she was telling me. “Where are you?”

It took a minute for my brain to process her question and come up with an answer. “Um, Wyoming?”

“Where in Wyoming?” she pressed.

“Silver Fork Ranch,” I told her, my mind still trying to catch up. “Outside of Silverhollow. Why?”

There was a beat of silence. “What’s the closest airport?”

I rattled off the name of the private airstrip Oscar had used when he’d flown me out here.

I heard her murmur to someone in the background. “We’ll send a plane from Jackson. It should be there within the hour. A car is on the way to pick you up.”

This was all happening so fast. “I—okay. But Mom—”

“There will be a car waiting at Teterboro to bring you to the town house. Guests have already begun to arrive, and the lawyers should be here by noon, so for my sake, please wear something respectable.” She didn’t even give me a chance to respond before saying goodbye and hanging up.

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