Chapter 5
Iwoke to the smell of coffee and the unfamiliar weight of heavy blankets tucked around me. For several seconds, I didn’t know where I was.
The room was dim, morning light barely pushing through the curtains, and the steady patter of rain tapped against the window. It was softer than it had been the night before, no longer violent enough to shake the walls, but the storm hadn’t moved on completely.
Then, I saw my overnight bag sitting beside the dresser and remembered. The power going out, the tree limb crashing through the window, and Ryder taking me to his place.
Memories from the night before worked their way to the surface. After Ryder had shown me to the guest room, neither of us had gone to bed right away. We sat beneath the covered porch, each sipping a bottle of beer and staying silent as we watched the storm roll across the valley.
Now, daylight had arrived, and with it came the uncomfortable knowledge that I still couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. The way we sat together on the porch for hours barely speaking, yet the silence between us had felt heavier than any words.
The way his fingers had accidentally brushed mine on the wooden swing. The way he had looked at me when I finally stood up and mumbled something about being tired.
I pushed the blankets aside and sat on the edge of the bed, dragging both hands over my face. Coming back to Rootstown Creek was supposed to be simple. Settle my father’s estate, sell the ranch, and return to the life I had built far away from this place.
Ryder Kane had never been part of that plan.
The floorboards were cool beneath my bare feet as I crossed the room and pulled on the jeans and sweater I’d packed.
After quickly brushing my teeth and attempting to tame my hair with my fingers, I opened the bedroom door.
The smell of coffee grew stronger in the hallway, and I followed it downstairs.
The Kane house looked different in the pale morning light. The night before, I had only noticed the warmth and shelter it offered compared to the dark, powerless house I’d left behind. Now, I saw the details.
The scarred wooden floors had been swept clean. A faded rug stretched down the hallway, the edges worn from years of boots crossing over it. Framed photographs lined one wall, most of them horses, cattle, and generations of Kanes standing beneath the same wide sky.
A folded quilt rested over the back of a nearby chair, the faded stitching immediately familiar. Ryder's mother had made quilts for nearly everyone in town, and I remembered her wrapping one around my shoulders after I'd shown up on their porch one winter evening wearing nothing but a thin sweater.
One photograph made me stop. I recognized his father immediately. Edward Kane had always been quiet and steady, and the kind of man who spoke only when he had something worth saying. I remembered how different he’d been from my own father. Even as a child, I'd noticed the difference.
Ryder looked no older than twenty, standing beside his father near the main barn.
He was leaner then, but the hard set of his shoulders was already there.
His hat sat low over his eyes, and one hand rested on the neck of a chestnut horse.
He wasn’t smiling. But I couldn’t remember ever seeing him smile for a photograph, for that matter.
“You hungry?” Ryder asked.
I startled and looked toward the kitchen.
He stood near the stove wearing a faded black T-shirt and jeans.
His hair was still damp from a shower, pushed carelessly away from his forehead, and he wasn’t wearing his hat.
Something about seeing him without it made him look different.
Less guarded. Or perhaps, I had simply never been close enough to notice how dark his hair was or the faint streak of gray beginning at one temple.
His gaze moved over me once before settling on my face.
“You always sneak up on people?” I asked.
“Was standin’ right here.” He turned back toward the stove. “Coffee’s fresh.”
Apparently, we were going to pretend the porch hadn’t happened. That should have made things easier. It didn’t.
I crossed the kitchen and poured myself a cup. I froze when I saw a black dog lying stretched out near the back door, his tail thumping once against the floor when he saw me.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Kash.”
I walked over and crouched to scratch behind his ears. “Good morning, Kash.” The dog leaned into my hand as though we had known each other for years.
“He doesn’t usually take to strangers,” Ryder said.
“I’m not a stranger.” The words came out before I could stop them. Silence settled across the kitchen. I looked up. Ryder was watching me.
“No,” he said after a moment. “You’re not.”
Heat crept along the back of my neck. I stood and took a drink of coffee, nearly burning my tongue in my haste to give myself something else to do.
I cleared my throat, needing something to fill the sudden silence. But before I could speak, he gestured toward the table.
I sat down, and a second later, Ryder slid a plate filled with eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes in front of me. He set his own plate down across from me and took his seat.
The fact that I was aware of every small movement he made irritated me.
The scrape of his fork against the plate.
The flex of his forearm when he reached for his coffee.
Even the way his gaze occasionally lifted to mine before returning to his food.
The silence wasn’t awkward exactly, but it was too aware.
After I was finished eating, I finally set my fork down and asked softly, “Are we going to talk about last night?”
Ryder continued eating. “What about it?”
I stared at him. “You know what.”
He lifted his gaze, and although his expression remained unreadable, something shifted in his eyes.
“We sat on the porch, drank beer, watched the storm, and then you went to bed.”
“That isn’t what I’m talking about.”
He was silent for a second before finally saying, “I know.”
I leaned back in the chair and folded my arms. “Then why are you making me say it?”
“Not makin’ you do anything.”
The tension from last night still hung between us, or maybe it was only clinging to me. But it felt thick and unspoken, and I could still feel the ghost of his fingers accidentally brushing against mine. Did he feel how the air had changed when neither of us pulled away immediately?
“And now you’re acting like nothing happened.”
“Nothin’ did.”
The answer shouldn’t have bothered me. It did. I looked down at my plate. “Right.”
Ryder was quiet for several seconds. “When I touch you, Lila, you won’t be wonderin’ if it happened.”
My breath caught, and I sharply glanced up. Ryder picked up his coffee mug and took a slow drink as if he hadn’t just sent a wave of heat straight through me.
I reached for my own mug, mostly because my hands suddenly needed somewhere to go. “That sounds awfully confident.”
“It is.”
I should have had a clever response. Something sharp enough to push him back behind the boundary I was trying to keep. Nothing came.
Kash lifted his head from the floor as my phone buzzed on the table beside me. Ryder’s attention shifted toward it.
I glanced at the screen. Kacey. I answered. “Hey.”
“Hey, I went by the ranch, but you weren’t there. Saw a limb through your living room window. Everything okay?”
“I’m fine. The house, not so much. I’m at my neighbor’s, Ryder Kane. His ranch borders mine on the west side.”
There was a short pause on the other end. “Oh. Okay. I have the listing paperwork ready. Mind if I swing by there? The roads are clearing up.”
I hesitated for half a second. “Sure. Come on over.”
Ryder’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. A little while later, a knock sounded at the front door.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
Kacey stood on the porch holding a leather briefcase in one hand and a manila envelope beneath one arm. His blonde hair was swept over to the side and secured in place by an ungodly amount of gel, and he wore rubber rain boots with his dress pants tucked into them.
He offered a friendly, slightly awkward smile when he saw me.
“Well, this is not how I pictured today going,” he said with a light laugh. “Power outage and storm damage on the same night? Mother Nature really rolled out the welcome mat for you.”
“The storm made a bigger mess than I expected.”
His gaze moved past me into the house. “Clearly. Your neighbor has a nice place, though.”
I stepped aside before he could make the moment more awkward than it already was.
Ryder remained in the kitchen, clearing the plates as Kacey stepped inside. He gave him a brief, polite nod.
“Morning,” Kacey said, keeping it professional.
Ryder returned the nod. “Mornin’.”
Kacey turned back to me with an easy smile. “You said you had time to go over everything?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Kacey spread the contracts across the dining room table.
Most of it was standard language I’d already reviewed electronically.
The asking price, the length of the listing agreement, and the percentage of commission.
There was also a section outlining the repairs and disclosures that might be needed before a buyer could secure financing.
The rest of the estate paperwork had been surprisingly straightforward.
Since I was the only next of kin and hadn’t been able to get back for the cremation, Kacey had handled most of the arrangements through the county.
A quick cremation with no service, just like my father would have wanted.
No fuss, no gathering, and especially no one pretending to mourn.
The estate attorney had already sent me the forms to sign for the final disposition of the ashes before I arrived, which were still being held at the funeral home until I decided what to do with them.
It could take weeks for everything to be officially released, he’d explained, but the legal side was mostly done.
I was grateful I hadn’t had to deal with any of it in person.
Ryder didn’t join us, but he did move around the kitchen, wiping down counters that were already clean and keeping busy. I felt his attention with every page I initialed.
“The market’s good right now,” Kacey said, his tone bright and encouraging.
“Properties with this much acreage don’t come up often.
I’m going to push it as a working ranch first, whether that be cattle or horses will be left up to the future buyer, but we should be prepared in case developers show interest. Fingers crossed we get the right buyer. ”
The pen paused in my hand. “Developers?”
“It depends on the buyer. Someone could divide the acreage into smaller parcels.”
Across the room, a cabinet door closed harder than necessary.
Kacey glanced toward Ryder then quickly back to the papers with a small, nervous chuckle. “Anyway, the important thing is you’re in control of what offers you accept.”
I signed the last page. The scratch of the pen sounded unnaturally loud.
When I looked up, Ryder stood near the counter with both hands braced against the edge. His expression hadn’t changed, but the disappointment in his eyes was impossible to miss.
I shifted in my chair, spine straightening while my blood simmered through my veins, teeth clenched and jaw ticked up.
“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.