Chapter 18 #2
Relief settles into my chest. The break-in was a major hit to production, but knowing we won’t be down for long—knowing she made sure of that—changes everything.
I’ve said it before, but I shudder to think what kind of financial blow this would’ve been if she hadn’t taken out those insurance policies behind my back.
What I don’t say out loud is that every solution comes with a price.
Money. Time. Or control.
And the worst part is, I can already see the shape of the choice forming. Either I let the county slow-walk us and bleed the ranch dry…
Or I start listening to offers I swore I’d never entertain.
And I’m running out of ways to protect this place without putting her in the crosshairs.
“That’s great.” I pause, the thought hitting me before I can second-guess it. “You wanna go out?”
Her head snaps up, surprise flickering across her face.
I know myself. A week ago, I would’ve shut that down before it ever left her lips, convinced I knew best. I’m starting to realize that just because I thought I was right doesn’t mean I was.
And maybe—just maybe—doing this differently starts here.
“Like on a date?” she asks.
I roll my eyes. Dating feels like a strange concept at this point. I’m not ancient, but being out of the game as long as I have makes the whole thing feel unfamiliar.
“I mean, if you wanna call it that,” I reply.
She shakes her head. “What?”
She sighs, stepping closer, her hands settling on my upper thighs. “Gage Hollis,” she says, amused, “still can’t admit he wants to take me out even after everything.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she beats me to it.
“Just say you want to take me out,” she murmurs, leaning in. “Show me off.”
Her voice drops to a whisper, her lips barely brushing mine.
“Keep talkin’ like that,” I warn, “and we won’t make it past the ranch gate.”
She laughs, presses a quick kiss to my mouth, and steps away. I reach out and smack her backside as she walks off.
“Hey!” she scolds over her shoulder. “At least buy me dinner first.”
I laugh and catch up to her, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her cheek. “Yes, ma’am.”
We head inside to get ready, and it hits me then—how rare this feeling is.
I can’t remember the last time I was this excited to leave the ranch.
Bell River isn’t exactly overflowing with date-night options. We’ve got a bar, a café, and a whole lot of land. Folks make do. Nothing fancy.
And somehow, that makes it perfect.
I take Sloane to Daisy’s, and the place is packed with late-night townsfolk. When we step inside, the bell over the door ringing sharp and bright, conversation stalls as heads turn our way.
It’s rare for me to be spotted anywhere near the town limits unless it’s ranch related. Sloane’s been popping up around Bell River lately, sure—but I wouldn’t have thought she’d made much of an impression yet.
“Well, look what came sneakin’ out of the pasture,” Daisy calls from behind the counter as she pours Jerry another rancher’s coffee. “Don’t be shy, you two. Find yourselves a seat.”
We scan the room for an open booth. The café keeps watching, curious but not unkind. I feel Sloane tense beside me, so I reach out and take her hand. She smiles, shoulders easing as our fingers lace together.
Daisy swings by and drops menus onto the table, her eyes flicking pointedly to our joined hands. She grins.
“Don’t start makin’ noise now, Miss Daisy,” I warn.
She laughs. “I run a café in a town this size. Bein’ nosy is half my job.”
Sloane laughs, and I shake my head.
“Miss Carter,” Daisy says, already turning to her pad, “your usual, or we switchin’ it up for dinner?”
I glance between them. Usual?
Sloane doesn’t even hesitate. “Breakfast for dinner actually sounds perfect.”
Daisy winks at her and disappears toward the kitchen.
I order my food, still a little stunned by how easily Sloane fits here—how naturally she’s being folded into the place. The thought settles heavy in my chest.
In just a few months, this all ends. She goes back to Austin.
It isn’t that far.
But it might as well be halfway across the country.
“Hey,” she says softly, squeezing my hand. “Where’d you go just now?”
I look up to find her watching me, concern written all over her face. I shake my head, unwilling to let it ruin the night, and bring her hand to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss there.
“Just thinkin’ about how lucky I am,” I say quietly, “that you didn’t give up on me.”
She smiles—soft, warm—just as someone clears their throat.
I glance up to see Jerry standing beside our booth, a mug of coffee in his hand.
“Jerry,” I say, reaching out. “How you doin’?”
He takes my hand and gives it a firm shake, his grip as calloused as mine. “Doin’ alright. Word around town is Horizon Group’s pushin’ closer to the limits. Got the wife and me a little on edge.”
I nod. “Yeah. You’re not wrong.”
“I heard about the break-in at Hollis,” he continues, lowering his voice. “Never heard of anyone stealin’ from a ranch like that. And the piping? That’s got Horizon written all over it.”
“Could be,” I say. “But Hollis won’t be down long—thanks to this one here.”
I gesture to Sloane. She ducks her head, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
Jerry turns to her, eyebrows lifting. “Is that right?” He nods, impressed. “Might need to borrow you to look over my books next.”
She laughs, visibly relaxing. “I’d be happy to help if you ever need it.”
Daisy arrives then, setting our plates down with a knowing smile. Jerry tips his mug toward us and excuses himself, leaving us alone again.
As I’m about to dig in, I notice Sloane watching me—there’s a glint in her eyes, something bright and searching. For a second, it’s like the stars have worked their way into that deep forest green, and I’m standing at the edge of something vast.
It hits me then how easy it would be to lose this if I make the wrong move.
Horizon isn’t just pushing paperwork. They’re patient. Strategic. And once they decide something belongs to them, they don’t back off.
I look across the table at Sloane as she laughs softly at something Daisy says, and the weight settles heavy in my chest.
Holding onto this moment isn’t the hard part.
Protecting it is.
And if Horizon keeps tightening the screws, I may have to make a move that changes everything—whether I’m ready for it or not.