Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sage

When I pull up to the house, I'm exhausted. I smell like burned coffee and old sweat, and I barely feel human. In short, I am not doing well. For the first time in my life, I look up at my childhood home and think, I don't want to be here .

Annie Oakpaw is asleep in the back, and I know from Mom's earlier texts that she's expecting me. I leave Annie where she is for the moment—the temperature is lower than I expected, and she'll be fine in here until I can say hi to Mom and make sure Annie's safe room is ready for her return with fresh food, water, and litter.

I leave all my stuff in the van and stumble out of the driver's seat. My legs are numb after so long on the road; driving more than thirteen hours in a twenty-four-hour window is no mean feat. I stopped at a KOA overnight on the way up, and I've been chugging coffee all day. Even now, I'm not sleepy, just… tired. Bone tired. The clock is ticking on the foreclosure, and I have to start planning my wedding to Trevor immediately or his daddy will pull some more strings at the bank and before I can say dadgummit, my ranch will be up for public auction. It feels like a bitter pill to swallow, but it's the only option left. I sacrificed my deepest feelings, walked away from Bash—the love of my life—to save the ranch, the other cornerstone of my existence. If I back out now, it would mean giving up Bash was for nothing. Every decision, every sacrifice, leads me back to this moment where I have to follow through, no matter how much it hurts.

I drag myself toward the front door. Before I reach the front step, I pause to text Trevor that I'm here. Might as well get this over with.

What a bleak thought. Something tells me I'm going to be revisiting that a lot in the next few years.

I think about texting Bash to tell him that I made it home safely. He's probably worried about me, but I'm not sure I have the strength right now to have a phone conversation. The last text in our thread is the one I sent him before I hit the road last night. It's after five o'clock. Surely he's seen it by now. Heck, he's probably home. He didn't even text me back.

I'm still standing there, wondering what I should do when the front door bursts open, and Mom hustles out. "You're late!" she exclaims.

"Um." I lower my phone. "Sorry? What am I late for, exactly?" She hasn't seen me in weeks and the first thing she does is criticize me for being present wrong? That's not like her at all.

She pulls me into a rib-creaking hug, then steps back to study me. "You're looking a little frazzled…"

"You think?" I lift my hands in surrender. "I just drove from Vegas!"

"I explained that already." Mom nods once. "Well, this'll have to do. It's not like Lacey will be surprised. She said she's a big fan of your channel."

I gape at her. "Who's Lacey?"

"Lacey Wilder." Mom guides me to the door. "Come on, let's not keep her waiting any longer than she already has been."

I truly don't have the first idea of what's going on. Mom leads me to the front door, fussing over my hair in a way that makes me think of Scarlett, although Mom's way less particular about appearances. Usually. I don't understand what's going on. As she nudges me through the front door, I look over my shoulder and spot the unfamiliar car in the driveway. I was so out of it earlier, the sight didn't even register.

The woman sitting on our sofa isn't anyone I know, but her outfit is impeccable: form-fitting riding pants with a cute cactus print, a pink and white button-down with embroidered roses on the shoulders and lapels, and a pair of incredibly familiar boots.

I look down at myself. Her boots match mine exactly, except hers are pristine, whereas my favorite pair of pink cowgirl boots have seen better days.

"Here she is!" Mom announces as if this lady can't see me with her own two eyes. "Let me get you some drinks, and I'll get out of your hair." She bustles off to the kitchen.

Lacey sits with one leg crossed over the other, her arms spread wide on the back of the sofa. She inclines her head and grins at me. "Your momma's a real class act," she says. Her black hair doesn't have a speck of gray in it, but there are crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. It's hard to guess her age, but I respect the way she feels so comfortable taking up space. I know so many ladies who don't.

"She's a champ," I agree. I stagger over to the recliner that was always my dad's favorite spot. "Sorry, I just got in from a long drive, so I'm a little out of it. What can I do for you?" As soon as my butt hits the cushions, I realize I've made a mistake, and I sit up again and extend my hand. "Sorry, jeez, I'm losing my marbles. I'm Sage—"

Lacey cuts me off with a laugh. "I know. And I gotta say, I'm kinda hurt you don't know my name since I know you're a fan of my work."

I lower my hand. "Uh…?"

She nods to my footwear. "You wear my boots all the time. People think Sage McAllister, rodeo queen and barrel racing champion, they think pink. I think you've got one of my hats, too, although I can't take credit for the one your big kitty-cat wears. Speaking of which, is Annie here? I'd love to meet her." She looks around expectantly.

"Hold on. You own The Pink Boot?" My poor, exhausted brain slowly slots the pieces together. "Oh my gosh, your whole outfit. You designed that?"

Lacey laughs. "I co-own it. And yes, I do some of the designs, although I prefer the accessories and patterns."

"But you're… here. In my house." Wow, Sage, you're really gonna impress her with your wits if you keep this up!

"Sure am, honey." Lacey bounces her foot and gives me a big grin. "See, I've been following your content for a hot minute, and I saw your live the other day? At the Home Depot? And then I saw that you were leaving to come home, so I asked around. My people know Trevor's people, and…" She trails off and wrinkles her nose. "Well, anyway, the less said about him, the better. His daddy should have put a stop to his nonsense years ago. And I do believe that man is finally understanding the situation his overindulgence of his son has put him in. Anyhow, his daddy put me in touch with your momma, so here I am."

"O-oh." This is a lot to take in, but I try to nod along and look like I follow what's happening.

"All that to say, I've got a question for you." Lacey uncrosses her legs and leans forward. Her brown eyes gleam. "How would you feel about becoming our company spokeswoman? Seeing as you're already an online brand ambassador and influencer, it's a total fit for The Pink Boot to make it official."

"Your… what?" I shake my head. "Sorry, I heard you, I'm just shocked. You're here in my childhood home to ask me to represent your company?"

"I like designing things," Lacey says plainly. "You know what I don't like? Marketing. I'm pretty sure you already rep the heck out of our line, even without meaning to. Every time you attend a rodeo, show one of your horses, or do a TikTok live wearing our gear, our sales increase. People like feeling connected to a brand. They like authenticity. I think you'd level up our company."

"Oh, I—" I look up just in time to see Mom's head disappear through the kitchen door. Getting drinks, my foot. She's spying on us. "What does that entail?"

Lacey produces a folder from the bag lying next to the couch and hands it to me. "You're gonna want to have a lawyer look over this before you sign, honey, but the terms are there. We're open to your suggestions, and we'll have to hammer out some of the details since your situation is a little different than a lot of our reps. You've got one foot in the rodeo circuit and one foot in the social media world. You're reaching a different audience. To that end, we'd like your input, but—"

She keeps talking as I skim through the papers. When I get to the third page, I freeze. Lacey's making me an offer… a very generous offer. The signing bonus is huge.

Big enough to save the ranch.

"Everything okay?" Lacey asks.

It's not until I touch my cheek that I realize I'm crying. I sniffle a few times and grope for the tissue dispenser on the coffee table. "Everything's great. I'm just really overwhelmed. You have no idea how exciting this is. It's like a miracle."

I don't have to marry Trevor.

Outside, a car engine grows louder, then falls abruptly silent. That's right: Trevor's here. I can't believe I texted him less than half an hour ago. So much has changed in the meantime.

I don't need him anymore. With Lacey's offer, I'm free.

Bash. I'm free to be with Bash if he still wants me. The realization makes me laugh through my happy tears.

"We'd like your answer by Monday, if possible," Lacey says. "Although, like I said, we fully expect you to have to make tweaks to the contract before you sign anything."

Another car pulls up. Flossie must have heard that I'm back in town. I bet Mom texted her.

"I want this," I tell Lacey. "The answer's yes… with tweaks pending. Does it say in here if you expect me to stay local, or can I do this from anywhere?"

"There will be travel involved during rodeo season, of course, but for the most part—"

Raised voices from outside make us both turn to the windows. Mom's curtains, once white but now fading toward yellow, block the view. When the yelling persists, I get to my feet and peer through the glass.

Two people are standing in the yard, squaring off like roosters at a cockfight. Trevor's back is to me, although I'd know him anywhere. At first, I can't tell who he's arguing with, although I wouldn't put it past Flossie to stir the shit.

Then Trevor bobs to one side, and I realize that the other person isn't my best friend after all.

It's Bash.

Bash is in my driveway.

In Montana.

What in the living daylights is going on?

I rush to the door and stumble down the front steps. Trevor and Bash are rolling around on the ground. Bash has Trevor's shirt over his head. He gets on his knees, about to stand, when he sees me.

"Bash? What are you doing here?" I'm worried that I'm hallucinating; today has been surreal, after all. If I am losing my mind, though, at least I'm not alone. Annie's face is pressed against the driver's side window, and her rumbling yowl can be heard through the glass.

Bash straightens up, dust and grit clinging to his clothes like badges of honor. God, even disheveled and wrestling on the ground, he looks impossibly good—like an action hero straight out of a blockbuster, muscles flexing and jaw clenched. My heart skips, a mix of shock and raw attraction zipping through me as he stands there, breathing hard, his eyes locked on mine.

"I'm here with a gesture." Bash pushes himself upright and flips off Trevor, then straightens his shirt.

My eyes dart between the two men. "Was… that the gesture?"

He shakes his head emphatically. "No, it's different. The real gesture is big."

I cross my arms over my chest and cover my mouth with one hand to hide my smile. "Might one go so far as to call it grand?"

Bash snaps his fingers. "Yes! That's right. Wait, let me start again." He runs his fingers through his hair and clears his throat. "Sage, I love you. Don't marry this cheating scumbag. I want to be your hero."

"You're already my hero, but sometimes a heroine has to save herself. And thanks to Lacey here, I did." I wave one hand back toward the door, where Lacey and my mother are watching them, each sipping from a long-awaited can of pop Mom brought from the kitchen.

"Sage, who is this guy?" Trevor yanks his shirt down and glares at Bash. "And why is he so huge… and violent?"

"Shut up, Trevor," Lacey calls from the porch. "You'd know who he is if you watched her channel. But your company is in decline because you can't get out of your own way. And you can't expect Sage to save it when you don't even care. Which is why your dad called me. Apparently, he's on to your little scheme to push foreclosure on this here ranch, so you could use that against Sage and force her to do your bidding."

Bash gestures for a time out. "So… sorry, I'm confused. Do you need me to rescue you from a terrible forced engagement?"

"Nope." I dust my hands off. "All taken care of."

"Ah." He nods a few times, looking slightly lost. "Well, I still want to make a gesture."

"Tell her you love her again," Mom calls.

"But with specifics," Lacey advises.

Bash walks toward me and takes both of my hands in his. He has some gravel stuck to his cheek and a few scuff marks from his spat with Trevor. He clasps my hands to his chest and leans toward me to say, "I love you, Sage. I want to be with you always. Please come back to Vegas with me."

"Need I remind you, we can be flexible with your schedule," Lacey says.

That's not what worries me. I want Bash, and I love his crew, but I don't know about Vegas. It's so far away, and my heart is here. This is my home. I just found a way to rescue it, and I don't see how everything can fit together yet.

Mom must sense my line of thinking because she leaves Lacey standing by the front door and comes down to join us. Her warm hand settles between my shoulder blades, and I lean into her touch. It's so strange that she and Bash have never met before, when they each hold half of my heart.

As she approaches, Bash releases one of my hands and steps forward, extending his other hand to my mom with a warm, respectful smile. "Mrs. McAllister, I'm Sebastian LeClerc. I've heard so much about you. It's an honor to finally meet you." My man's tone conveys respect for the woman who raised the person he loves.

Mom looks surprised but pleased, taking his hand in a firm shake. "It's good to meet you too, Bash. Sage has told me a lot about you, too."

Bash nods, his expression earnest. "I'm grateful for that. I just want you to know how much your daughter means to me."

Mom nods. "And that's enough for me."

Mom's voice is low when she leans in toward my ear. "I want you to be happy, baby. Your goal was to save your father's legacy. You've done that. Now, I want you to live your life. I can take it from here. And I've never seen you happier than when you were living in Vegas with your new friends. Let me hold down the fort for a while longer, and you two can get everything sorted out."

With that, it's like she just gave me permission to create new dreams and chase them. I didn't know I needed to hear those words until I experience the physical relief that they inspire in me.

"I'd love that. I want to give us a shot." My heart is lighter than it's been since my father's death. I am buoyant. I'm free.

"But what about me?" Trevor's face is so hot, it's a wonder his hair doesn't burst into flames.

I crane my neck to look over Bash's shoulder. "Yes, Trevor, what about you?"

Lacey sips from her soda. "Honestly? I forgot you were here."

Trevor opens and closes his mouth a few times. I'm pretty sure he wants to curse us out, but if Lacey is buddies with his dad, he must know that would be a bad idea. He settles for storming back to his car, where he slams the door and revs the engine. The scent of burned rubber follows him when he leaves.

"He's always been such a disagreeable young man," Mom observes.

"Somebody should put him in a time-out," Lacey agrees. "Well, folks, this has been a laugh and a half, but I need to get going. Sage, you have my info. Let me know as soon as your lawyer looks over the contracts and drafts up any changes."

She saunters back to her car, blowing Annie a kiss as she passes. Annie stares back without blinking and flicks her tail from side to side.

"I'll give you two some space." Mom kisses my cheek. "Nice to meet you, Bash."

When the front door closes behind her, we're left standing in the gathering dusk. It's cooler here than in Vegas, and I realize I might need a sweatshirt when the sun goes down.

"We should talk," Bash says. "But it seems like your mother doesn't want us to go inside."

"That's because she knows I'm going to take you someplace private. Come on, grab whatever you brought with you." I've been driving all day but don't mind driving the last few minutes. There's something I want him to see.