2. Sierra

2

SIERRA

PRESENT DAY

I press my forehead against the cool window, watching as familiar landscapes unfold beneath me. A patchwork of autumn colors blankets the Montana countryside. My heart swells with both nostalgia and anticipation as Eagle Falls comes into view.

The jet touches down with a gentle bump. I gather my things, offering a warm smile to the flight attendant. "Thanks for everything, Mia. I really appreciate it."

"Our pleasure, Miss Adams. Enjoy your stay."

Outside, the crisp fall air nips at my cheeks. I inhale deeply, savoring the scent of pine and woodsmoke. It's a far cry from the recycled air of concert venues and TV studios.

The keys to my rental Jeep jingle in my hand as I approach the vehicle. I heave my suitcase into the back and then slide into the driver's seat and start off on my journey home.

As I drive the familiar roads, I recall my tense conversation with my manager, Camille, about taking a month-long break. Despite her initial frustration, I'd insisted it was necessary to avoid burning out. Twelve years of non-stop touring, recording, and public appearances have taken their toll. Everyone views me as America's Sweetheart, but I don't recognize myself anymore.

I'm not sure a month will be enough to find myself again, but between my packed schedule and contractual obligations, it will have to be.

I roll down the window, letting the cool autumn air rush over me. It brings with it the scent of fallen leaves and distant bonfires.

For the first time in years, I feel like I can breathe.

As I round a bend in the road, I realize a weight is gone from my shoulders. For the next month, there will be no cameras, no screaming fans, no relentless schedule.

Just me, trying to remember who I used to be before the world knew my name.

A few minutes later, I pull up to my parents' house, the sight of my childhood home warming my heart. I take in the sight of the autumn leaves framing my parents' cozy two-story home, and the porch swing gently swaying in the breeze. My parents burst out of the front door before I can even get out of the Jeep.

"Sierra!" my mom exclaims, wrapping me in a tight hug. "Oh, honey, we've missed you so much."

My dad joins in, his strong arms enveloping us both. "Welcome home, sweetheart."

My chest swells with warmth. "I've missed you guys, too."

After a flurry of hugs and kisses, my parents step back to give me some room. "Why don't you take a few minutes to settle in? We've got your old room all ready for you."

I nod gratefully and take my luggage into the house. Stepping into my old bedroom, which is now their guest room, I'm hit with a wave of nostalgia. The walls are a different color now, but the memories remain.

I let out a slow breath, remembering all the time I spent in here belting out songs into my hairbrush, daydreaming of performing on stage. A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips.

Then another memory surfaces—this time of Logan and myself sprawled on the bed, laughing as we wrote a cheesy love song. His fingers clumsily strummed my guitar while I scribbled down increasingly ridiculous lyrics.

My heart aches at the thought of him. We tried to stay in touch after I left, but life got in the way.

God, I've missed him.

The sound of the front door slamming shut jolts me from my thoughts. My brother's voice booms through the house. "All right. Where's the pop princess?"

I laugh as I head downstairs.

"There she is!" Gabe says, opening his arms wide. "Come give your favorite brother a hug!"

I roll my eyes but comply. "You're my only brother, doofus."

He ruffles my hair. "Details, details. How the hell are you, sis? And what'd you bring us from LA?"

Soon, the four of us are gathered around the dining table, mugs of steaming apple cider warming our hands. My mom's delicious pumpkin bread sits in the center, and I'm happily helping myself to a warm slice.

"So, tell us about your upcoming tour, Sierra," says my dad, leaning back in his chair with pride in his eyes.

I smile, but shake my head. "I'd rather hear about what's going on here. How's the new principal at your school, Gabe?"

As my brother launches into a story about his eccentric new boss, I savor the normalcy of it all. No paparazzi, no screaming fans—just family catching up.

After Gabe finishes talking, I ask, "How's Logan doing these days?"

Gabe takes a sip of his cider before answering. "He's good. Still running the ranch with his dad."

My mind floods with memories of all the hours I spent on the ranch with Logan. I can almost smell the scent of hay, see the grazing horses, hear Logan's laugh echoing across the fields.

"I'll stop by and say hi," I say. "It'd be nice to see the place again."

Gabe's expression shifts, a flicker of something crossing his face. "Uh, yeah. I guess you could do that."

I frown at his hesitation. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No, no," Gabe says quickly. "It's just, you know. It's been a while."

I study my brother's face, sensing there's more he's not saying. "Has Logan changed a lot?" I press.

But even as I ask the question, I realize how dumb it sounds. It's been twelve years. Of course Logan has changed. He's probably married and has kids.

The thought sends an unexpected pang through my chest. I have no right to feel jealous, but I can't help it.

Gabe shakes his head, still looking uncomfortable. "Look, if you want to go see him, go ahead. I'm sure he'd be glad to see you."

My brother's tone doesn't match his words, leaving me feeling unsettled. As the conversation shifts to other topics, I can't shake the unease in my stomach.

Still, I know I want to see Logan again. He wasn't just my high school boyfriend; he was my closest friend. There's no way I'm going a whole month in Eagle Falls without at least saying hi.

The next morning, I wake up early, my stomach fluttering with anticipation. I spend an embarrassing amount of time picking out an outfit, eventually settling on a casual sundress and denim jacket. As I drive toward the ranch, more and more memories come back to me—hours spent riding horses, feverish kisses with Logan behind the barn, sunbathing by the creek.

The ranch comes into view, and I draw in a sharp breath. It's even more beautiful than I remember. The sprawling property is edged with rustic fences and well-maintained buildings. Horses graze peacefully in lush green pastures.

I park near the main house, my heart pounding. As I step out of the car, I spot a familiar figure working in the yard.

"Sierra?" Logan's dad calls out, surprise in his voice. "Is that really you?"

I smile and wave. "Hi, Mr. Magnuson. It's been a while."

"Look at you, all grown up," he says as he walks over, his eyes crinkling with a smile. "What brings you back to Eagle Falls?"

"Just taking a break from the craziness," I say. "Thought I'd stop by and say hello."

Mr. Magnuson nods. "Well, I'm glad you did. Logan's out in the field, working on one of the tractors. You remember where the equipment shed is?"

I nod, my pulse already quickening. "I can find my way. Thanks."

As I walk across the property, it all feels so familiar, yet so distant—like a dream I'd forgotten.

I round the corner of the barn, and that's when I see him. Logan's broad back is turned to me as he leans over an old tractor, tools scattered around him. His flannel shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, revealing muscular forearms, and his worn jeans are stained with grease and dust. His neck, thick and strong from years of hard work, is tanned and glistening with sweat under the afternoon sun.

My breath catches in my throat. This isn't the lanky boy I left behind. Logan has grown into a man—all rippling muscles and rugged strength. I find myself frozen, unable to look away from the flex of his shoulders as he works.

My heart races, a mix of nerves and something else I can't quite name. I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

"Logan?" I call out.

My former boyfriend pauses at the sound of my voice.

And then he slowly begins to turn around.