Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“Go ahead,” I said.
His brow lowered. “Go ahead with what?”
“Tell me it’s a mistake. Tell me I’ll regret selling the ranch. Tell me I’m abandoning something that’s been in my family for generations.”
Kacey quietly began gathering the papers, clearly trying to give us space.
Ryder straightened. “Your land,” he said.
I waited.
His gaze held mine. “Your choice.”
That was all. No argument, accusation, or attempt to make the decision for me. For some reason, his restraint bothered me more than anger would have.
Kacey closed the folder and stood. “I’ll have the listing active by tomorrow morning. Once the roads are fully clear, I’ll schedule the photographer for the exterior shots. Sound good?”
“Okay.”
He looked between Ryder and me before giving me a quick, friendly handshake. “Call if you need anything at all. I’m here to make this process as smooth as possible.”
“I will.”
Ryder opened the front door for him. Kacey stepped onto the porch then glanced back with a slightly awkward wave.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Try not to scare off any potential buyers if they come around.” He chuckled tightly, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
Ryder said nothing, but the corner of his mouth did curve into a slow, dark smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Kacey let out a nervous laugh, cleared his throat, and gave a little nod before quickly walking to his car.
Ryder closed the door behind him with a soft click that somehow felt ominous.
And the silence that followed pressed heavily against me.
6
The quiet that followed Kacey’s departure was suffocating.
I crossed my arms and stared at Ryder. “You could say what you’re thinking.”
“Already did.”
“You don’t want me to sell.”
“No.”
The bluntness of the answer didn’t startle me. That was how Ryder had always been, but it did make me feel some sort of way I didn’t want to name.
“Then why didn’t you argue?”
He looked at me as if the question made no sense. “Would it change your mind?”
I shrugged. “Probably not.” Although, I didn’t know if that was the truth.
“Then there’s nothing to argue about.”
I hated the way that answer made me feel. He didn’t sulk, didn’t try to manipulate me, and didn’t behave as if all the work he’d done gave him any claim over my decision. He simply accepted that I might erase something he wholeheartedly thought was mine and mine alone.
“I should get home,” I said.
Ryder glanced toward the windows. The rain had slowed to a mist, and the sky had lightened enough to reveal the distant ridge.
“I’ll drive you.”
“I can walk next door.”
“Road’s washed out in places.”
“Then I’ll walk through the field.”
“Mud’s ankle-deep.”
I gave him a look. “Do you have an objection to everything I say?”
“Mostly when it’s a bad idea.”
The ride to the ranch took less than five minutes, and neither of us spoke. When we pulled into the drive, the damage looked worse in daylight. Water had cut narrow channels through the gravel, carrying debris into the yard. Pieces of the porch light remained scattered across the boards, and several branches littered the lawn. The massive tree limb that had crashed through the living room window was still lodged in the frame, glass glittering on the wet porch.
Ryder parked near the house, cut the engine, and was about to climb out of the truck.
“You don’t have to come inside,” I said.
He glanced at me, his expression all business. “I know.” He got out anyway.
The electricity hadn’t been restored yet, and the house felt colder than usual. The huge hole in the living room window wasn’t helping. I walked around checking for any other damage while Ryder inspected the breaker box, the remaining windows, and the pipes. He didn’t stop until he seemed satisfied that nothing else had been affected.
He went outside and, with some effort, managed to pull the large tree limb free from the frame, dragging it off the porch and into the yard. A few minutes later, he returned with a sheet of plywood and a heavy tarp he must have grabbed from the barn. Working quickly and efficiently, he covered the opening as best he could, securing the edges to keep any rain and wind out.
“That’ll hold for now,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’ll come back later and look into getting the whole window replaced properly. Might take a couple of days to get the glass, but it won’t stay like this for long.”
“You always inspect everyone’s house after a storm?” I asked, a teasing note in my voice. The truth was, I didn’t know what I’d do or how I’d handle any of this if not for Ryder being here.
“No.”
“Just mine?”
He glanced back at me. “Just yours.”
The answer was simple, but it settled warmly inside me before I could stop it.
Ryder helped me collect the broken glass from the porch and carried it to the trash bin. He stayed longer than I expected, checking the roofline from the yard, moving several fallen branches away from the steps, and testing the back door as if he didn’t quite trust the repair he had made a few days earlier.