37. Sage
SAGE
I’m too wound up to sit still.
I spend fifteen minutes moving around the kitchen, pretending to organize a camera bag that’s already organized, before I give up, strap it across my back, and head outside.
Instead of turning toward the main barn, my feet carry me toward the small field behind the foaling barn, where I’ve been a regular visitor over the last few weeks.
Trouble spots me almost immediately.
A few weeks ago, he could barely stand long enough to nurse. Now his cream and gold coat flashes in the sun as he trots awkwardly across the pasture on gangly legs, ears pricked, fluffy blond tail held high as if he owns the place. His mother barely bothers lifting her head from the grass.
Despite everything, I smile. “You got confident fast.”
Trouble reaches the fence and noses at the hand I hold out to him. I manage to get in a few pats before he gets bored and trots off to investigate something more interesting.
With my arms folded over the top railing of the fence, I exhale. Everything feels painfully normal after my argument with Holden. But there’s a tightness behind my ribs that won’t stop burning.
Closing my eyes, I press the heels of my hands against them. I can see why he reacted the way he did. Maybe I understand it more than I want to admit. Because if one of his exes had shown up talking about him leaving for another rodeo circuit without telling me, I would’ve been hurt too.
I’m dragged out of my thoughts when Trouble returns, reaching his head through the railings to nip at my shorts. “You’re very pushy, you know that?”
He tosses his head like he’s proud.
A quiet laugh escapes me, though it fades quickly. Because underneath all the hurt and confusion, another realization presses at me harder and harder.
Holden wanted me to stay.
Emotion swells in my throat as images crowd my mind. Mornings at the ranch house, being there for more foals like Trouble, Taryn stealing my fries at the diner, Mia showing up with coffee and gossip.
And Holden. The half smiles that make my heart flutter, the way he touches me, tender one moment, passionate the next, the way I feel safe in his arms.
I blink away the tears that threaten to break free.
I want that too. But what if he’s right? Milan, gallery showings in Europe, the kind of success I can point to and say, look, I did this. Those things used to feel like the entire point. So what if I choose to stay and regret it later?
What if I leave and regret that instead?
Panic presses against my ribs, hard enough that I need movement. Something physical to drown out the noise in my head. Before I can overthink it, I push away from the fence and head toward the main barn. Maybe some time with Cozy will quiet my thoughts.
The familiar scent of hay and leather wraps around me as I step inside. Cozy lifts her head the second she sees me approaching her stall.
“Well,” I mutter, reaching for the halter hanging nearby. “This feels reckless.”
The mare nudges my shoulder while I slip the halter over her head.
Maybe it is reckless.
A few weeks ago, I would’ve been terrified to ride alone. Now I find myself saddling her with far more confidence than hesitation.
Funny what becomes normal.
As I lead Cozy into the yard, Chance spots me and lifts a brow. “Where are you headed?”
“Just sticking close to the ranch.” I tighten the cinch, then meet his gaze. “I thought I’d take some landscape shots before the light goes.”
He studies me for a second too long. “Everything okay?”
I force a smile. “Of course.”
The assurance must sound as fake to him as it does to me, because his expression doesn’t change. Still, all he says is, “Stay near the lower pastures. I don’t want to have to send out a search party.”
“I will.”
He nods once and steps aside.
Ten minutes later, the late-afternoon sun spills gold across the valley as Cozy moves steadily beneath me. I ride until we reach the rise overlooking the river. Below, the ranch stretches wide. Corrals. Barns. Horses moving through pastures.
My throat burns unexpectedly, an image of Holden’s hurt face flashing through my mind.
You didn’t tell me.
As if he has any right to make me feel guilty about it. He never gave me any reason to believe he was imagining a future here with me until today.
Because I didn’t tell him.
I tighten my grip on the reins.
The truth sits heavy in my chest. Underneath all my hurt and anger is the realization that he wasn’t wrong to feel blindsided.
I was holding back. Waiting for a sign from him that he wanted me to stay before I was forced to decide for myself what I wanted.
But I never let him in on that. I never told him how real this all feels.
Cozy flicks an ear back toward me, and with a shaky exhale, I stroke her neck.
“You’re not very good at emotional support, you know that?”
She ignores me completely.
Rude.
Despite myself, my mouth twitches. But the smile fades again as my thoughts drift back to Milan. Two months ago, the residency would’ve felt like winning. Now, every version of my future feels like losing something.
Shifting in the saddle, I inspect the mountains.
Maybe that’s what growing up is. Realizing there isn’t always a perfect choice.
The wind picks up, carrying the faintest scent of rain with it. So with a sigh, I turn Cozy back toward the ranch.
The house is too warm when I walk inside. And too loud.
Voices carry from the kitchen before I even reach the hallway. Not laughing. Sharp enough for unease to lodge in my throat.
Taryn appears around the corner, and one look at her face makes my pulse stumble. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitates, her eyes misty. “Holden’s leaving.”
A chill sweeps through me. “What?”
“He’s going back to the rodeo.” Her mouth trembles. “Some mentorship thing.”
The blood drains from my face.
No.
No, absolutely not.
She folds her arms, hugging herself. “Dad’s really upset.”
My heart cracks. I’ve never heard Harrison yell. Never seen him slam a door or lose his temper. In fact, over the last few weeks, I’ve watched him smile every time Holden showed up for dinner or worked alongside his brothers. As if having all his kids at home was everything he needed to be happy.
Hurt crashes through me so fast it almost steals my breath. Anger follows half a second later. Before I can think better of it, I’m heading toward the kitchen.
Conversation cuts off the second I step through the doorway. All the brothers are here, along with Harrison. Holden is standing near the end of the table, hat in hand, one hip braced against the counter. He looks up at the sound of my approach, and pain claws across my ribs.
He already looks halfway gone.
“You’re leaving?” I ask, my voice more brittle than I want it to be.
He pushes away from the counter. “Sage—”
“When were you planning to tell me?”
The room goes quiet. Chance’s eyes flick sharply between us as Harrison drags his hand down his face.
“No.” I let out a sharp laugh. “Actually, don’t bother.”
“Sage,” Harrison says quietly, exhaustion threading heavily through his voice.
“So while you were angry at me for not telling you about the residency, you were already planning to leave?”
Holden looks wrecked for half a second before his expression shutters. “I didn’t decide until today.”
The words scrape my insides raw.
“You don’t get to do that.” It comes out as a whisper.
River shifts, grimacing, while Quinn looks at the floor as if he wants absolutely no part of this conversation.
Holden’s expression barely changes, but his shoulders draw tight.
“It happened fast,” he says carefully. “Rick told me about a position—”
“A position you accepted within five minutes?”
Sterling exhales hard and drags a hand over the back of his neck. “Hell, Holden, you couldn’t give us more than a day’s notice?”
Holden’s jaw tightens. “There’s a sponsor event this weekend I need to be at.”
“So that’s it?” Chance asks flatly. “You’re just gone again?”
“Chance,” Harrison mutters.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Seriously? You finally start acting like part of this place again, and now you’re leaving?”
Holden’s face shutters further, but not before I see the accusation land.
God, I feel it too. Because over the last few weeks, I’ve seen it. Holden laughing with River. Working horses with Chance. Sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee while Taryn argues with Quinn over cereal.
Taryn’s voice comes quietly from behind me. “I thought you liked being home.”
For half a second, something raw cuts across his face before disappearing.
God. Why does he always look like he’s bracing for impact?
He looks out the window, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “It’s good money.”
Sterling lets out a humorless laugh. “That’s what this is about?”
Holden zeroes in on his older brother. “You’re the one who told me the expansion’s costing a fortune,” he says. “Chance dumped money into the breeding stock. Feed prices are up again. I can help more if I go.”
“We didn’t ask you to help that way,” Sterling shoots back.
“No,” he says roughly. “But I can.”
The room goes quiet again. Because underneath all the talk about money and helping the ranch, I think we all hear the same thing.
Goodbye.
Holden’s gaze shifts to me again, his throat working. “You should take the residency.”
The words hit like a slap. He’s telling me to go again. All I can do is stare at him.
The change in his expression is subtle. Almost imperceptible, but it’s there. He’s trying to give nothing away, but the strain still shows. This isn’t easy for him either.
“You’re talented, Sage,” he says quietly. “You shouldn’t give that up.”
It might not be easy for him, but he’s already let me go. I blink back the tears that sting my eyes and nod once. Though speaking feels dangerous, I manage to look him in the eye and say, “Enjoy the rodeo.”
I turn then, making for the hallway.
“Sage.” His voice follows me, but I don’t stop.
Behind me, Taryn says, “I’ll drive her.”
My breath catches. God, I’ve become so used to riding with Holden that I didn’t even think about how I’d get back to the cabin.
Outside, the cool evening air hits my flushed face, and I inhale shakily. Taryn catches up to me, Holden’s truck keys dangling from her fingers. “Come on.”
I climb into the passenger seat while she starts the engine. As we pull away from the house, movement catches my eye. Holden stands on the porch, the last of the evening sun catching the edges of his shoulders as he watches us leave.
Watches me leave.
And that hurts more than anything else that’s happened today.
Taryn says nothing during the drive to my cabin, both hands tight on the steering wheel.
Halfway there, guilt curls in my stomach. “I’m sorry.”
She exhales. “Yeah. Me too.”
After she drops me off with a watery smile, I wait until the rumble of Holden’s truck recedes down the road, then close the cabin door behind me and sag against it.
Silence settles heavily over the small space.
I’ve spent most of the last few weeks at his cabin. In his bed. This place should feel like a refuge from everything that happened today. But it doesn’t. At least, not right now.
Throat tight, I push away from the door, unstrapping my camera bag and dropping it onto the couch.
This morning, I woke up tangled in his sheets, and now there’s a canyon between us.
Anger flares again. How dare he accuse me of hiding things while he was planning to leave? How dare he act like he’s being responsible when all he’s really doing is making choices without me?
I pace toward the kitchen before turning back again almost immediately. The cabin suddenly feels too small. One of his flannel shirts hangs over the back of a chair. I’ve been wearing it just because I love how it feels on me, how it smells like him. I have to look away.
I sink onto the edge of the bed and press the heels of my palms against my eyes.
What am I supposed to do now? Take the residency? Go back to New York? Find another temporary contract and move on? These are the decisions I should have been making over the last few weeks. Instead, I was falling hard for a man who now seems determined to walk away from me first.
The tears that have been threatening finally spill over. I don’t break down or sob loudly, though part of me wishes I could fall apart. But I’m too drained, too hurt, too damn lost. There’s no catharsis, just a bone-deep sadness that won’t stop leaking down my cheeks.
I stare down at my phone I didn’t even realize I was holding. No messages. I’m not sure why I’d expect any. Holden’s not the messaging type. If he’s having second thoughts, he’s more likely to show up at my door.
Not that I think he will. I know resolve when I see it.
Part of me longs for him to show up. The other part wants to throw something at his head.
Eventually, I kick off my boots and crawl beneath the blankets, fully clothed.
Sleep never really comes. Just restless drifting broken by thoughts of Graham, Milan, the look on Holden’s face when Taryn said she thought he liked being home, and his silhouette on the porch, frozen in place as we left.
By dawn, I’m hollow, completely scraped out.
But somewhere between staring at the ceiling and listening to the wind outside, I realize I don’t want it to end like this. Not after everything that happened between us. Not after he finally let me in.
Whatever happens next, we deserve a better ending than a photo torn down the middle and the two halves thrown aside.
Between one breath and the next, clarity settles painfully into place. We need to talk—really talk. Even if the ending doesn’t change, at least it won’t feel unfinished.
The sky is already lightening outside my window, so, still in yesterday’s clothes, I throw on my boots before I lose my nerve.
The morning air cools my skin as I cross the grass toward Holden’s cabin.
But the second it comes into view, my stomach sinks.
No light shines from the windows, and his truck is gone.
Still, I climb the steps and knock.
Nothing.
I try again, harder this time. Silence. My heart is already free-falling as I reach for the door handle. It’s unlocked, the cabin empty, the bed made, the closet half bare.
Gone.
A flash of white on the countertop next to his coffee maker catches my eye. I pick up the folded piece of paper and read it.
Coffee maker’s yours. Figured you’d need it more than me.
Holden.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. The way his handwriting starts to blur tells me tears are winning.
I’ve barely driven my car since getting it back from the shop. After I get changed, I drive it to the ranch house, part of me still half hoping he’ll be there. That he wouldn’t leave without talking to me face to face one last time.
But when I find Taryn sitting on the front porch, her forlorn expression tells me everything I need to know.
He’s really gone.