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My turn to blush. Jesus Christ, my brain is back to horny-fifteen-year-old-boy mode.

“I can do that,” I manage, scalding my tongue when I take a big sip of coffee. “So you’re really gonna stay. On the ranch.”

Mollie uses the edge of her fork to cut her omelet. “Honestly? I don’t know yet. My whole life is back in Dallas. My business partner is there. Mom, my grandparents. I’m hoping Mom’s lawyers figure out a way around that stipulation so I at least have a choice as to whether or not I stay.”

My heart twists.

I nearly drop my mug. Whoa-whoa-whoa. Am I actually…a little bummed Mollie isn’t sure about staying? Since when? I don’twanther to stay. But I guess I also don’t want her to leave?

Lord above.

“You can always leave the ranch to me,” I joke. Only it’s not a joke.

I expect Mollie to roll her eyes. Call me out on being shameless.

Instead, she lifts a shoulder and says, “You’re really fucking good at running it. I have a lot to learn from you.”

I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again. “And you want to learn?”

She meets my eyes. “I am my father’s daughter.”

“You are.” I’m smiling like an idiot again.

I’m also gripped by the idea that now would be a good time to share Garrett’s photos with her. He left them to me—supposedly—but really, they belong to Mollie. I wonder why he didn’t send some of them to her. Was he planning to send them to Mollie or Aubrey later on? And when did he put everything in the safety-deposit box? Did he ever go to the bank to look at the photos?

My stomach clenches. I still have so many questions, and I can’t imagine what Mollie would say. I don’t wanna fuck with her head or send her into a tailspin of renewed grief. We’re all barely keeping our heads above water as it is. Would the photographs make her day? Or pull her under?

That’s a risk I’m not willing to take. Not yet.

“Now I wanna know exactly how much he rubbed off on you,” I say.

This time, she does roll her eyes. “Can I ride with y’all or what?”

“You can ride. But you gotta keep up.”

“I can keep up.”

“Prove it. Maybe then I’ll stop calling you City Girl.”

Grinning, she kicks me underneath the table. “You’re the worst.”

I am.

But I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the best morning I’ve had in a long-ass time.

CHAPTER 17

Mollie

LONG LIVE COWGIRLS

Sunrise.

It breaks over the hills in shades of peach, neon pink, and bright, shimmery yellow. In front of me, an enormous herd of cattle is spread out over a pasture that stretches as far as the eye can see.

Taking it all in from the saddle, I feel a similar rise in my chest. A warmth that spreads through my bones and fills me with a sense of calm so deep, I close my eyes to savor it.

My stomach feels settled. Calm. No pain to speak of.