6. Sage
SAGE
Taryn handles Holden’s big truck with ease, maneuvering it along the ranch’s long driveway.
Much as Holden did on his tour this morning, she points out various details as we go.
“That building over there will be the main guest lodge. We’ll have a restaurant, and eventually a spa and gym inside. I’ve never been to a spa, so I’m looking forward to it. And this road takes us past the river, where guests can go fly-fishing.”
She’s enthusiastic about it all. Unlike Holden. “You seem pretty excited about the expansion.”
She grins. “I can’t wait to have more people around. I love my brothers, but they can be exhausting. New faces will be nice.”
A vision of Holden’s frowning face drifts through my mind. “I can imagine,” I mutter.
We drive under the Wild Ember entrance sign and turn down a road opposite to the one Holden and I came in on last night.
“Are you still in school, or do you work at the ranch as well?” I ask her.
“Both. I’m a senior, but I work with the horses after school and on weekends. Taking you shopping is a nice change from my normal Sunday morning routine, though.”
I laugh. “So I’m doing you a favor?”
She shoots me a grin. “Maybe.”
“What do you want to do once you’ve graduated?”
“I want to be a professional trainer. But first I’d like to compete. Prove I can make it to the top myself.”
“What sort of competition? Rodeo?” I take a guess.
“Working cow horse.” She smiles. “I did consider rodeo after Holden ran off to compete. I wanted to follow him around the circuit. But since I was only seven…” She shrugs with a laugh. “Then I got interested in working cow horse instead.”
Holden was a rodeo rider? Is that how he injured his shoulder? I file that away for later and focus on the other part of her statement. “Working cow horse?”
She purses her lips as she considers her answer.
“It’s kind of a mix of disciplines. You show how well the horse handles in the arena, then work a cow.
The horse has to be athletic enough to stop, turn, and change direction fast, but smart enough to read the cow and react without you micromanaging its every step. ”
“That sounds difficult.”
“It is.” Her grin widens. “The horse does half the work. Sometimes more than half. When you find the right one, it’s like they’re thinking right alongside you.”
“Wow. I’ve never heard of it before. Though I guess that doesn’t say much. So there are competitions for it?”
“Huge ones.” A flash of excitement lights her eyes. “The best riders compete across the country, and the really good horses can be worth a fortune. I’ve watched the big events online for years. One day, I’m going to ride into one of those arenas and know I belong.”
“I have a feeling you’re already halfway there.”
She snorts. “I can always get better. But once I find the perfect competition horse, everyone’s in trouble.”
Her smile is wide and contagious. I can’t help but admire her confidence. “I have no doubt.”
We pass a white sign with a blue border that reads Welcome to Silverford.
Quaint little houses begin lining either side of the road, and much sooner than I expect, we reach what I assume is the main street.
It’s short but busy, with cars and trucks angled along the curb, pedestrians strolling up and down, and teens lingering outside a diner.
The shops have neat, colorful signs, and most have planter boxes filled with flowers outside.
We pass a small bank, a pharmacy, a grocery store, and what looks like a supply shop.
At the far end of the street, the mountains rise beyond the rooftops, impossibly close.
Taryn swings the truck into a diagonal parking spot outside a consignment store tucked between a bookshop and a florist, stopping in front of a window decorated with antique lamps and hand-painted furniture.
“C’mon.” She throws her door open. “Let’s get you kitted out. Those boots must be giving you blisters already.”
I wince at both her accuracy and the sting in my feet, lifting one boot and wrinkling my nose at it. “I thought they looked ranchy.”
She giggles. “It looks like you dressed for a Pinterest board called Ranchcore but Make it Fancy.”
“Close enough, I guess.”
“We’ll go here first.” She points at the consignment shop once we meet around the front of the truck. “And if we’re lucky, Riley’ll be working.”
“Who’s Riley?” I ask as she pushes her way through the swinging door.
“She’s Quinn’s best friend. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were kids, so she’s practically family.”
The store is filled with more furniture and clothes, as well as a few saddles, bridles, and boots. It smells like cedar and leather, and the wooden floor creaks under our feet.
As we reach the counter, a pretty blond woman pops out from a back room and breaks into a wide smile.
Taryn waves. “Riley, come and meet Sage. She’s the photographer who’ll be taking promotional shots of the ranch.”
The woman grins at me. “It’s nice to meet you. When did you get into town?”
“Just last night.”
“We need to get her some more comfortable clothes,” Taryn adds.
Riley runs her gaze over me, her expression assessing rather than judgmental. “If you’re going to be riding around on the ranch, I can see where you might need to make some changes.”
I laugh. “That’s what I’ve been told.”
“I’ve got you covered. Come on, over this way.”
Riley leads us to the back of the store, where racks of clothes have been set up and several shelves of boots line the wall. She comes to a stop next to a pile of jeans and taps her finger against her chin as she scrutinizes me again. “Your outfit is super cute. But…”
“You don’t need cute,” Taryn breaks in. “At least, not for every day.”
Riley reaches for a green flannel shirt. “Here. Try this.”
I take it from her. The material is soft under my fingertips, and there’s a handwritten price tag.
“Is this secondhand?”
Taryn nods. “All the good stuff is. And there’s no point buying new if you’ll only throw it out when you leave. Try it and see what you think.”
“Try these too.” Riley snags a few more garments for me, then points me to a wooden door. “There’s a changing room through there.”
I take the bundle and step into the compact room. A few minutes later, I’m smiling as I check out my reflection in the mirror hung on one wall.
The high-waisted jeans hug my hips without restricting my movement, and the soft green flannel skims my torso. I don’t look as polished as I usually do. I look… comfortable. Like someone I might actually want to be instead of someone else’s version of me.
When I step out of the changing room, Taryn claps while Riley gives me an approving smile.
“Much better,” she says. “Those are a yes. Now try on the rest.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’ve narrowed the pile to a handful of flannels, jeans that don’t feel like they’re trying to cut off my circulation, and a pair of cut-offs with denim worn soft that make my ass look great. Not that I care what anyone around here thinks of my ass, of course.
Holden’s face pops into my head again, but I immediately shake the image away. I especially don’t care what my grumpy neighbor thinks.
“Okay,” Riley says. “Let’s find you some boots.”
My toes are definitely being pinched now, so I eagerly follow the two of them to a barrel with a sign on it that reads Worn but Worth It.
Riley rummages around and pulls out a pair of cinnamon-colored boots. The leather is a little faded, but it’s soft and supple.
The moment I pull them on, I let out a sigh of relief. I swear they fit like they were made for me.
“Still cute,” Taryn says. “But much more comfortable. And better for riding.”
Why does everyone want me to get on a horse so much?
“Can I keep these on?” I practically beg Riley. “I don’t think I can bring myself to wear the others again just yet.”
She laughs. “Absolutely.”
We make our way back to the counter, and while she rings up my purchases, Taryn turns to me.
“Do you want to get something to eat before we head back?”
Only now do I notice how hungry I am. “As long as no one minds me slacking on my first day on the job.”
She waves a hand. “It’s not a real workday. It’s a get-to-know-the-place day. Finding the best places to get clothes and food counts. Besides, this is my chance to monopolize you without any of my brothers around.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough.”
“You think you can close the shop and come with us, Riley?” she asks.
Riley checks her watch. “Mom should be here soon, and it’s almost lunchtime. I’ll put the sign up.”
After we exit the store, Riley flips the sign to Closed for Lunch and locks up behind us.
“Your family owns the shop?” I ask as we walk down the street.
“Uh-huh. I work there on weekends mostly. During the week I’m at college, studying agribusiness.”
We approach the diner we drove past earlier. It looks like something straight out of a movie, with its white-painted wooden facade, a neon coffee cup glowing in the front window, and Mabel’s written across the glass in looping green script.
“Oh, wow.” I sigh. “You don’t get anything like this in New York. Not where I live, anyway.” I make a mental note to capture the pretty shopfronts another day. They’ll be perfect for Wild Ember’s marketing.
A bell chimes as we enter the diner—an actual bell, not a digital sound effect.
Several locals are seated on red vinyl stools at a counter along one side.
A glass pie case has a handwritten sign taped to the front that reads Pie is first come, first served.
No, I won’t save you a slice. I bite back a smile.
About half of the matching red booths tucked beneath the windows are occupied, but we find a vacant one and slide into it.
I’ve barely picked up the laminated and slightly warped menu when a woman with curly gray hair, a round face, and bright brown eyes materializes beside the table with a pen, a pad, and a smile.
“Hi, girls,” she says. “Who’s your new friend?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know, Patty,” Taryn says.
She lets out a chuckle. “Well now, I’m guessing this is the photographer you all hired. Sage, right?”
“Yes,” I say, bemused.
Taryn grins. “Sage, this is Patty. She owns the diner, and she’s the go-to for town gossip.”
Patty swats the back of her head with her order pad, an expression of mock indignation on her face. “News, not gossip.” She tosses me a wink and a grin. “But if you want to know who the most eligible bachelors are around here, I can give you the lowdown.”
I laugh. “Good to know. But if you’re Patty, who’s Mabel?”
“My aunt,” she replies. “She left this place to me twenty years ago, but I wouldn’t have dreamed of changing the name. Now,” she taps her pen on her pad, “have you decided what you want?”
I scan the menu, then order a roast beef sandwich. The girls order quickly too.
After Patty bustles off, Taryn rests her elbows on the table and leans forward eagerly. “So… why did you leave New York to come all the way out here?”
“Oh, okay, um…” I pause to think. Taryn’s only seventeen.
I don’t particularly want to get into the nitty-gritty of my breakup with anyone, but especially a teenager.
So, generalizations it is. “Let’s just say that I had a bad breakup and wanted a fresh start so I could focus on my career instead of any relationship drama. ”
“I get that.” Riley offers me a sympathetic smile.
“Won’t you miss your family?” Taryn asks. “I’d love to experience living in a big city, but I can’t imagine being away from the ranch for long. Despite how annoying my brothers can be.”
A tiny sigh slips from me. “I think maybe I’m not as close to my family as you are to yours.”
“Oh.” She frowns. “That’s a shame.”
How old would she have been when her mom died? Not much more than five or six, surely. I hope being part of such a big family helped buffer the loss. “Do you get along with all your brothers?”
“They all have their moments. It drives me crazy when they treat me like I’m a baby and get all overprotective. But I know how to handle them.” She flips her hair with a confident grin.
“Here you go, girls.” Patty returns, her arms loaded with plates.
Once she’s distributed them, she props her hands on her hips, her smile deepening the lines around her eyes.
“Are you looking to have some fun while you’re here?
” she asks me. “I’m sure a pretty face like yours has all those handsome boys at the ranch in a tizzy. ”
Heat creeps over my cheeks. Is she talking about Taryn’s brothers?
If that’s the case, Taryn doesn’t seem bothered, merely rolling her eyes and popping a fry into her mouth. “I don’t doubt it.”
I clear my throat. “I actually just got out of a relationship. So I’m not looking to jump into a new one anytime soon.”
“Pfft.” Patty waves her hand in the air. “Who’s talking about a relationship? If you’re only here for a few months, why not enjoy yourself?”
I look to Taryn and Riley for help, but they’re both stifling grins. This must be another difference between life in New York and life out here. I’ve never had a stranger talk to me so openly about my sex life. I let out a weak laugh. “I’m not sure I’m up for that either. But we’ll see.”
She gives me a wink. “If you decide you are, you should head to the Silver Pony on a Friday night.”
Taryn snorts. “I’m sure Sage is too sophisticated to fall for one of those cocky cowboys who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”
“Aren’t your brothers all cocky cowboys?” Riley asks.
Taryn nods. “Well… except for Sterling.”
“True.”
I hold my hands up. “I have no intention of falling for anyone, cocky or otherwise. I’m just here to work and enjoy this beautiful part of the world.”
Patty shrugs. “Either way, it’s nice to see a new face. One who isn’t a tourist, anyway.”
“Thank you,” I say. “And thank you for the food. It looks delicious.”
She beams, then turns on her heel and heads back to the counter to pick up another order.
“Don’t mind Patty. She doesn’t have a filter,” Riley says.
“That’s okay. I’m just not used to people being so… open.”
“You’ll get used to it.” Taryn picks up another fry. “Country folk don’t tend to beat around the bush.”
We dig into our meals then. My sandwich is delicious, and I resist the urge to stuff my face. But even though we chat as much as we eat, we’re soon finished.
“I guess we should get back,” I say to Taryn. “I don’t want to annoy Holden any more than I already have.”
“Don’t worry about him,” she says. “He’s all bark and no bite.”
Probably easier to say when you’re his sister.
She slurps up the last of her milkshake. “Come on, then. Can’t have him thinking he’s scared you off.”
“That might cheer him up,” I murmur.
The girls both laugh.
“He’ll warm up to you,” Taryn says. “Just ignore his grumpiness. He’ll come around eventually.”
But as we leave the diner, I’m not nearly as convinced.