20. Dawn
Chapter 20
Dawn
T he Wild West Fest was in full swing, the air thick with the buzz of excitement. The faint smell of fried food, alcohol, and horses mingled, wrapping itself around the crowd like a familiar blanket. Everywhere I looked, people were laughing, children sprinting about with sticky fingers, their laughter ringing in the air, and the gentle hum of music drifting from one of the smaller stages. It was a lot—like being caught in a whirlwind of sights and sounds that made my head spin—but it was worth it.
Today meant more than just fun. It was about the ranch, about offering the residents a place where they truly belonged, and making sure we could keep giving them that.
The sun beat down relentlessly, and the heat from the crowd made it feel like the air itself was on fire. I stood near the edge of the main stage with Billie, Willow, and the residents, watching as the opening act wrapped up their performance. Simon, immersed in his work, watched the crew set up the instruments, the headphones wrapped around his ears forming a perfect bubble of concentration. My sister, on the other hand, was in her element, grinning as she took selfies with my brother and Clara, sending them off to her boyfriend with an excited flourish.
“Hey… Breathe before your head explodes,” Willow teased, nudging my shoulder with hers. My hands were clammy, and anxiety buzzed through my entire body.
“I’m stressed. I just… I just hope everything goes okay,” I admitted, knowing I was talking about more than just the money or the ranch’s future. I rubbed my hands over the back of my jeans, trying to center myself, to calm the storm inside.
I glanced at Nash, who was speaking with Easton on the side of the stage while adjusting his guitar strap. A tangle of emotions rose within me—admiration, fear, hope… and maybe something more. Love? It was all there, jumbled, hard to decipher.
I wanted so badly to believe that the quiet moments we shared on the ranch—the laughter, the easy connection between us—could somehow anchor him here, with me.
I wanted to be selfish, to cling to the idea that those moments meant something deeper, something lasting, but I couldn’t shake the truth. This was always temporary—a deal struck to save the ranch and his career, nothing more.
He’d given me his time, his presence, maybe even a tiny part of himself, but it wasn’t mine to keep. The nights we shared were fleeting magic, the kind you have in summer flings, not the kind you imagine would last forever. And I knew, deep down, that once the concert ended, so would the part of him I’d managed to hold.
After tonight, once the benefit concert was over, the pull of his old world would call him back. And who was I to ask him to stay, to give up the life he’d built for my small world? My heart longed to love him, to believe in something more permanent, but my head kept reminding me of the inevitable.
I stood there, trying to focus on the hope that maybe—just maybe—his spark would reignite, even if it meant it might pull him away from me.
Willow caught me staring at Nash from across the stage. His back was turned as he tuned his guitar, but my gaze lingered, unbidden, drawn to him.
“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” she teased, her voice knowing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tried to play it off, but my voice wavered just enough for her to seize on it.
“Oh, please,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You’re practically glowing every time you look at him. It’s embarrassing, honestly.”
I shot her a glare. “I’m not glowing.”
“You are.” She grinned, but the smirk softened into something more understanding. “But that’s not the point.” She nudged my shoulder again, her tone gentler now. “You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
I hesitated, gripping my arms to steady the tremble I felt. “It doesn’t matter if I am.”
Willow tilted her head, her brow furrowed in curiosity. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not real,” I whispered, my voice barely above the rush of the crowd around us. “This whole thing… it’s a favor. A deal to help save the ranch. He’s just passing through, Willow. Once this is over, he’ll go back to his life, and I’ll go back to mine.”
Her expression shifted, concern slipping into her eyes. “What about the nights you spent together? That wasn’t just a deal.”
“It was…” I paused, the word sticking in my throat. “It was nice. But that’s all it was. A moment in time. I can’t expect more than that.”
Willow studied me quietly for a long moment, then sighed, nudging my shoulder once more. “You’re lying to yourself, you know.”
“About what?”
“About how much he cares about you. And how much you care about him.”
I shook my head, the words caught in my chest. “It doesn’t matter how much I care. He has a life waiting for him out there. A big, loud world that doesn’t include me. This… us? It’s just part of the deal.”
Willow didn’t argue, but the sadness in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. “You can tell yourself that all you want,” she said softly. “But I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Dawn. And it’s not just a deal to him.”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t let myself believe that, not for a second. Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d survive when he left. In the weeks Nash had spent at the ranch, he’d left a mark on my heart. Even with my guard up, even with my reluctance to let him in, he had crept in like water carving through stone—unavoidable, gentle, but unstoppable.
That’s when Rebel Rose took the stage, rushing forward with their guitars, greeting the crowd with a roar. The crowd erupted as they appeared, and Nash’s smile was effortless, his stage presence magnetic. He belonged up there, no question.
He looked right at home, his guitar slung low, the weight of it barely registering. His voice rang out with a richness that sent shivers down my spine, and the way he moved on stage, so at ease, was as if the spotlight had always been his natural element.
And then, his eyes found mine.
It was a flicker, brief and almost unnoticeable, but it felt like a lightning bolt. When he smiled, it wasn’t the polite grin he gave the crowd, nor the charming smirk he usually wore as armor. It was softer—quieter. And for that moment, I allowed myself to believe that smile was meant just for me. My breath caught in my throat, and I swear his smile widened, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
The crowd roared as they launched into another song, a familiar hit that had people singing along at the top of their lungs. Everywhere I looked, people were dancing, laughing, lost in the pure joy of the moment. Even I couldn’t resist swaying to the rhythm, clapping when the beat picked up. But underneath it all, a knot twisted in my stomach, growing tighter with each passing second.
While everyone else was swept up in the music, I couldn’t stop counting down the hours until the night ended. The music would fade, the crowd would disperse, and Nash—Nash would leave. This wasn’t just a concert; it was a goodbye dressed up in applause.
I tried to push the thought away, focusing instead on the way his voice soared through the final chorus, on how his presence on stage felt like it had always belonged there. Even though I wanted to believe that somehow, this could be more, I knew that the stage was his true home. Not here. Not with me.
As the song ended, the applause was deafening, echoing across the open field. Nash and Easton bowed, their smiles wide, basking in the crowd’s love. I clapped along with everyone else, forcing a smile as I cheered for him. But when his eyes met mine again, I wondered if he could see the lie in my smile—if he knew I was quietly breaking inside.
When the final chords faded, Nash stepped up to the microphone, his guitar resting against his back. He raised a hand, signaling for the crowd to quiet down, and though the warmth of his smile told everyone how much he appreciated the applause, there was something deeper in his eyes.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice steady, carrying easily over the field. “Thank you for being here today, for showing up for something bigger than music—for showing up for Skyline Acres Ranch.”
The crowd cheered again, and Nash waited, letting the applause wash over him before continuing.
“We’ve played on many stages in our lives,” he said, his voice softening as he glanced at Easton. “But this one… this one is different. Because today isn’t about us; it’s about a place that’s become more than just land or buildings—it’s a home. A sanctuary. It’s about the people who make it what it is.”
His gaze swept over the crowd, and then, just for a second, it landed on me. My heart skipped, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes.
“The ranch is special,” he went on. “Not just because of the work it does, but because of the people who call it home. People like Simon, who taught me that joy doesn’t need many words. People like Clara and Benjamin, who remind us all that kindness and laughter can turn a day around.”
The crowd erupted again in cheers, their voices lifting into the air like a wave. Some of them even called out our names, their admiration echoing across the field, while Nash chuckled softly beside Easton, his fingers running through his hair in a familiar, casual gesture. Ben and Clara were jumping up and down, excitement in their faces as they cheered, flanking my sister, Willow. Images of Skyline Acres—its pastures, its animals, the hardworking residents—appeared on the big screen behind us, and a tall number flashed: the total amount raised that day.
“And then there’s Dawn Taylor,” Nash said, his voice dropping, just enough to make it feel personal, almost intimate, despite the noise of the crowd. “As you all know, she’s the heart of that place. Her determination, her patience, and her ability to see potential in everyone—even in a cancelled country star like me—are something special. Something I’ll never forget.”
A quiet wave washed over me as I froze, heat creeping into my cheeks. His words hung there, filling the space between us, the crowd clapping, hooting, cheering around us. Willow gave me a swift nudge, her elbow nearly knocking me off balance.
“She’s the reason we’re all here today,” Nash continued, his eyes locking on mine with quiet conviction. “She believes in this ranch, in the people, the residents. Her belief—she carries it with her—and that belief is contagious. The moment you set foot on that land, you feel it.”
His smile softened, a rare sincerity in it that made everything around us seem to fade. The noise, the music, the world—it all disappeared, leaving only him and me, suspended in that one moment.
“So thank you,” Nash said, turning back to the crowd. “Thank you for believing in Skyline Acres Ranch, too. The money raised today will change everything—it’ll keep the lights on, the animals well-fed, and most importantly, it’ll ensure that the people who call it home will thrive.”
The applause that followed was deafening, an echo that seemed to stretch across the field. Nash and Easton gave the crowd a slight bow in acknowledgement, still beaming. Easton added with an earnest edge, “You’ve all done something incredible today. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts.”
With their parting words, they took a step back, exchanging a brief glance before they picked up their guitars. The crowd quieted down as familiar chords hummed through the air once again. Even as the music swelled, a warm, full ache formed in my chest—Nash’s words hadn’t just been for the crowd; they had been for me.
As we began heading toward the VIP area, cameras went off like the sound of rain hitting windows, and interviewers made their way to us. Billie enveloped me in a tight hug before steering the crew away, leading them toward a less crowded space. I stayed behind, as a reporter caught my eye and approached with microphone in hand.
“What can you tell us about the impact this concert will have on your ranch?” she asked, her voice smooth and polite, as if it were part of the everyday routine.
I glanced over, momentarily distracted by Clara and Benjamin laughing about something with Simon. Their carefree joy seemed worlds away from the formalities of the event. “It’s everything,” I answered, my voice steady, though my heart squeezed in my chest. “This ranch isn’t just a building or a piece of land; it’s a home for people who need it. This concert—it’s helping us keep it going. And seeing all this support, especially from Nash, it’s more than I can put into words.”
The reporter gave a small nod, sensing my emotion. Her gaze softened as if absorbing the weight of my words. “I can see how much this means to you.” She paused, watching my expression carefully before adding, “How has having the infamous Nash Rhodes involved in this event changed things for the ranch?”
I took a steadying breath, suddenly aware of the lump in my throat. Nash wasn’t just a celebrity to us; he’d become woven into the fabric of this place in a way that felt both unexpected and essential.
“Honestly, it’s hard to find the right words,” I said, feeling the answer settling deep within me. “Having Nash here... at the ranch—it’s been a game-changer. He’s not like other celebrities who show up for the photo ops or the accolades. He took the time to understand our mission, what we stand for, and he’s shown us real care. This wasn’t just about being in the spotlight for him. It’s about being part of something bigger than himself.”
My gaze drifted toward Nash. He was talking with a group near the edge of the stage, the weight of his guitar on his back, his face lit up with the warmth of a real connection. As I looked at him, the ache in my chest tugged again, sharper this time.
“Without him, this event wouldn’t have reached the people it did,” I continued, my voice thickening. “But what he’s given us—it’s more than just a headline. The time he’s devoted, the energy he’s put into this... that’s priceless.”
The reporter smiled knowingly, sensing the depth in my words. “It’s clear Nash has had a profound impact there.”
“He has, yes,” I said, the emotion catching in my voice before I could stop it.
She nodded, her expression warm and understanding. “It’s clear this ranch has given him something significant. And I think it’s equally clear how much you’ve invested in it yourself.”
I looked back at Clara, Simon, and Benjamin, the warmth of their laughter radiating across the field. Despite everything, I still felt a strong pull toward them, to ensure they were safe, supported. “I’m just doing what needs to be done. For them. For the people depending on the ranch. It’s something my parents poured their lives into—so I’m continuing that work, carrying that legacy.” My voice dropped lower, a steadiness to it now. “And today, in this moment, I can’t help but think it’s all coming together.”
I met my sister’s gaze, and for the first time, I felt the weight of the realization fall clearly into place. My thoughts about giving her room to grow this ranch, allowing her space to lead—it was time to trust her with that. She could do it. I knew she could.
With a slight smile, I turned to the reporter, my voice lightening. “Thank you for listening. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to introduce my sister, Billie, and my friend, Willow, who are the co-presidents of the Skyline Acres Foundation.”
Surprise flickered across their faces as I waved them forward, gesturing for them to join us. They exchanged a glance and, at my prompting, stepped closer. I wrapped them both in a tight embrace before leaving them to the questions. “Your turn now. Thank you both for everything.”
As I left them to the spotlight, a sudden rush of emotion overwhelmed me. Their pride, their passion for the Foundation—it was more than I could express. They deserved this moment. They deserved to share their dreams for the ranch’s future with the world.
I moved away from the crowd, my attention shifting back to Ben, Clara, and Simon, who were dancing with an abandon that felt miles away from the pressure of the event. It was so simple, so natural for them. It was what I wanted for all of us.
I knew the whirlwind of post-concert activity would soon settle down, but there was something I had to do first—I needed to see Nash. I pushed through the crowd, feeling my chest tighten with every step toward the backstage area. But just before I rounded the corner, I overheard voices—men’s voices. Easton and Nash’s agent, Richard Hayes, were speaking in low tones.
“It’s already trending on social media,” Richard was saying, a triumphant edge in his voice. “The feedback is overwhelmingly positive. This is exactly the push we needed—Red Dirt Rendezvous could be closer than we thought. Not just an opening act. This could lead to the main stage.”
I paused, my heart clenching, my gaze fixed on Nash and Easton, sharing a laugh at the thought of what was to come. I knew this was Nash’s dream—something he had always longed for, a return to the world that had left him behind. A part of me was thrilled for him, for them. And yet, a deeper part twisted painfully, knowing that I couldn’t be a part of that.
He had always been clear, but hearing him now, the reality struck harder than ever. Nash had made peace with his past, and I had to too. Letting go was a form of love. But the ache it left—it was all-consuming.
I stepped back from the corner, knowing I couldn’t stay in the shadows for much longer. I wanted him to succeed, wanted him to be happy... but could I still be a part of his world, or would I remain just a chapter?
When I rounded another corner, nearly colliding with Richard Hayes, I fought to keep my composure, my smile instinctive but cold.
“Miss Taylor,” he greeted smoothly, his business persona perfectly intact. “What an event today, truly. Without you, none of this would have happened.”
“Thank you,” I responded evenly, but the words tasted bitter.
“And one thing’s clear,” he added, tapping a few things into his phone as he spoke. “Nash wouldn’t have come back if it wasn’t for you. You gave him a home—a foundation to rebuild himself.” He tapped my shoulder, eyes never leaving his device as he walked away. “Thanks to that, everyone can go back to their lives.”
The way he phrased it felt like an end, like it was time to turn the page. For a moment, everything inside me seemed to deflate. I swallowed, trying not to let my emotions show.
He was right.
It was time to move forward.