Ellie
“Come on, girl,” I murmured, coaxing Dottie toward me with a soft, hopeful tone. I’d been out here for hours, trying to bridge the space between us, but nothing had changed.
With a quiet groan, I sat back on my heels. The frustration wasn’t with her; it was with me.
Because the truth was, I still didn’t feel like myself.
And she knew that.
Animals always did.
Logan and I had gotten back to Faircloud a few days ago, slowly adjusting to normal life again after our time away.
My family had peppered me with questions the moment we got back, so I told them everything positive—from the amusement park and Gregg, to the rodeo and the roadside souvenir shop where we picked out little gifts for everyone on the way home.
They loved them. Penny especially. I gave her a mushroom-shaped kitchen timer so she could actually keep track of time and stay on task. She hugged me so tight I swore I heard a rib crack.
I should’ve been happy to be home.
And yet, part of me wasn’t.
Seeing Miles again? That was the part I dreaded. But Faircloud itself? It held my roots. My people. My family, my friends. Logan. They were all anchors, reminding me that life was still good, that men like Miles and Buck didn’t get to ruin all of it.
I stomped my boot against the ground. Dottie whinnied, shaking her mane.
“What?” I asked, smirking. “You got something to say?”
She didn’t, of course. But her silence said enough.
I’d left town hoping to clear my head, but even now—back in familiar fields, with the same dirt beneath my boots—I still felt like a stranger in my own life.
Still couldn’t connect with her.
With myself.
Was I broken?
Was what I felt with Logan just a momentary high, a tease from the universe?
Was that kind of happiness even possible here… in Faircloud… for me?
I didn’t know.
And maybe that was the worst part.
Lately, I’d been spending all my free time out here with Dottie instead of with Logan, my family, or even my friends. I kept telling myself I needed air, space, clarity. But if I was honest, I wasn’t sure what I was looking for.
I thought when I came back, things would settle. That the ache in my chest would quiet. That I’d fall into some version of normal that didn’t feel like pretending.
When I reached to stroke Dottie’s nose, she pulled away.
“Okay, okay. Fine.”
I trudged over to the fence and sank down against it, crossing my arms and folding my legs beneath me.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” I admitted aloud, my head tilted back toward the sky.
“I have so much uncertainty about what I want, about who I am, that I feel like I’m floating with no paddle.
Except…” I let out a shaky laugh, “Logan’s been my paddle.
Always. And now I can’t tell if I’m falling in love with that paddle…
or if I’m just starved for affection and clinging to the way he looks at me. ”
Saying the words didn’t solve anything, but it loosened the knot in my chest.
“Is it just another man giving me attention?” I wondered out loud.
“It doesn’t feel like that. When I think about him, I get butterflies.
And I haven’t felt that in a long time. Maybe…
maybe my body’s warning me he’s one of the good ones.
Maybe if I can’t trust my thoughts, I can trust my nervous system instead. ”
I heard the slow, steady thud of hooves in front of me, Dottie drawing closer. But I kept talking.
“If this is just some need for attention, it’s not fair to him. Logan deserves more than that.”
I’d never seen him as more than a friend.
Maybe because I never imagined someone like him would want me.
But Logan had always been there. Not loud or demanding, not trying to take anything from me. Just… there. Consistent. Kind. Safe. The one constant.
“How am I supposed to know what real love looks like,” I whispered, “when all I’ve ever known is the kind that leaves or breaks you?”
Was I overthinking? Probably.
But what if Logan and I only felt this way because we’d escaped Faircloud, even just for a little while? Maybe, in the freedom of distance, it was easier to believe in something new. Something more.
Dottie let out another whinny.
“I don’t speak horse,” I replied, cracking a tired smile, “so I have no clue what you’re agreeing with.”
I tipped my head back, letting the sun bathe my face in warmth. When I finally opened my eyes, Dottie stood inches away. So close it startled me. I jerked, and she flinched—but neither of us bolted. We both stilled.
I reached out my hand and brushed her leg.
“And that kiss…” I whispered.
God, that kiss.
The sunset.
The blanket.
The way he looked at me like I mattered, like I was something to treasure.
He always made me feel like that.
Like I was important.
Like I belonged.
Even before the kiss.
Even when I was sad or scared or filled with joy, my heart always sought out Logan.
He’d always been my person.
Maybe he always would be.
Maybe, all along, that was the sign I needed.
All my life, I’d been pulled toward loud, intense men—men who made sure I knew how much they needed me, only to leave when I needed them back.
But Logan?
Logan stayed.
He was the quiet presence that never wavered.
The good one I never saw coming.
And maybe… just maybe…
He was the one I’d been waiting for all along.
“How is a girl supposed to trust herself?” I asked Dottie, my fingers still gently gliding over her coat.
“How is she supposed to know what’s right or wrong?”
That’s the thing about life. I was starting to understand there’s no guarantee.
No shining sign pointing to the right path.
We make choices, and then we live with them.
We endure the fallout or we cherish the reward.
Either way, the only constant is us. Ourselves. The trust we build—or break—within.
And that, right there, was my biggest hurdle.
Learning to trust that I could handle the outcome, whatever it might be, without needing all the answers up front. Without guarantees. Just me, doing the best I could with what I had.
So much was spinning in my head, but surprisingly, Miles and Buck barely held space in it anymore.
Miles? I’d deal with him in time.
Buck? He’d become a ghost I’d eventually lay to rest. I’d heal from the wounds he tore wide open and stitch myself back together stronger than before.
I’d keep working on myself. Keep discovering what I deserved, what I needed, and what I would no longer tolerate.
But Logan… Logan was the one I kept circling back to.
Fifteen years.
He’d had a crush on me since we were kids. And instead of pushing or posturing, he waited in the background—quiet, patient, watching. He never forced his way in. Never demanded more than I was ready to give. He just… waited.
That gentleness, that restraint, that steady, unwavering kindness?
That was sexy as hell.
Logan had always been my protector, the one person I knew would show up for me—without question, without expectation.
And now, here I was, sitting in the dirt, talking to a horse, thinking about the boy who never stopped showing up.
A laugh bubbled up in my chest before I could stop it—loud, full, real.
I threw my head back and let it out, a true, belly-deep laugh that surprised even me.
Dottie blinked at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said, still chuckling. “I am crazy.”
But for the first time in a while, it didn’t feel like a bad thing.
I stood up, brushing the dirt from my jeans with shaky hands. I couldn’t sit in the uncertainty any longer—I needed to move. I needed to choose, act, do something instead of spinning in circles inside my own head.
Dottie followed without protest for the first time since we brought her home. It felt like a sign she could sense the shift inside me.
I led her into the barn, tying her off gently for the night. She gave a soft huff, almost like encouragement, and I paused for a second to press my forehead to hers.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Because I was done stalling.
I was done waiting for perfect clarity or some impossible guarantee. My heart was already telling me where to go.
I climbed into my truck, dirt still caked on my boots, hands trembling as I gripped the steering wheel. I put the truck in gear and took off down the road, gravel spitting beneath the tires.
For once, I didn’t let the what ifs stop me.