Chapter 70 Truly Alone
The deep rumble of the diesel engine in Ryder’s truck cut through the still air of Sage Ranch. He parked it in the gravel of the ranch yard near the barn, got out, and strided with purpose into the barn without even glancing in Sierra’s direction.
Sierra, who had come out on the porch after her conversation with Cody, returned to the kitchen for a second mug, filled it with coffee, and headed toward the barn.
The barn doors groaned as Sierra pushed them open. Dust motes swirled in the golden shafts of morning light that cut through the cracks in the weathered wood. At the far end, inside one of the stalls, Ryder crouched by an automatic watering trough with his sleeves rolled to his elbows. He twisted a wrench with precise, practiced ease, the sound metallic and final.
The barn’s interior was dim, illuminated by shafts of the early morning sun that cut through the slats and painted the floor in a grid of light and shadow. In one of the horse stalls, a large chestnut mare swished her tail, indifferent to the world beyond her stall.
She lingered in the doorway of the stall, clutching the chipped ceramic mug she’d brought, black coffee, two sugars, his way. For a moment, she let herself remember: the early mornings they’d shared, laughter tangled in the dry wind, his hand warm in hers.
“Ordered the part to fix this a couple of weeks ago,” he said without looking up, his voice a calm murmur that seemed to blend with the creak of the wooden beams. “It just came in.”
“You look like you could use a break,” she offered, handing the mug of coffee to him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, voice low as he accepted the mug.
She allowed a long moment to pass between them, relishing it before bringing up the question she’d come to ask. She swallowed, steadying herself, choosing her words carefully. “Cody isn’t ready to run things. Not yet. You’ve been running this place for a couple of years. You know how it works. I… I need your help.”
She watched his face for a reaction. Seeing none, she moved forward.
“I didn’t mean… I just need someone I can trust,” she said, her voice thinner than she wanted. “Someone who knows the land. Who knew him and the way he did things.”
Ryder stilled. He took a slow sip from the mug, not looking at her. When he spoke, his voice was even, distant, and cold. “I came here to help your dad. That’s all. I’ve got my own place to manage, my own crew.”
Though his answer stung, she plunged ahead. “Can you at least help me with the feed budget? Cody’s got the inventory system, but I’m still trying to stitch the numbers together. I need someone who knows the ranch, someone who understands what it takes to keep this place from going under.”
The light caught his jawline, the same rugged line that had drawn her in like a magnet, but his expression remained cool and distant, like the surface of a lake that reflects the sky but hides the current beneath.
“I’m not really… set up to run the whole thing,” he said, his tone even as he took a sip from the mug she’d offered. “I have my own ranch to run. I came here because your dad was sick and needed my help. This was never supposed to be permanent.”
The words landed on Sierra like cold water. Was he talking about helping out on the ranch or their relationship?
When he had sat with her and comforted her after her father’s passing, she could feel his warmth and the depth of his concern for her. He had been a lifeline, and she had taken hold of it. Now, his cool composure was taking that lifeline away. She swallowed the coffee steaming on her tongue, its bitterness multiplied by the moment.
Her voice was steadier than she felt. “I just thought, maybe, if you could spare a few hours a day to help give Cody some guidance… I need to stop the bleeding.”
He finally turned to face her, his eyes the color of storm-washed sky, steady and unyielding. “You’re making a choice, Sierra. You always do. Manhattan. Your firm. Julian Rossi.” He said the name as though it had a bitter taste. “You don’t get to come back here when it’s convenient and expect everything to be frozen in time waiting for you.”
Her breath caught. “That’s not fair. I loved my father. I’m trying…”
“You’re trying to live in two different worlds and expecting each world to line out the way you want it to,” he replied, his tone softer and sadder. He swallowed the last few gulps of coffee from his mug and then passed it back to her, his fingers brushing hers for a split second, enough to send a tremor through her chest.
Ryder gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ve got to get back to my own place. There’s a storm brewing.”
He turned, his hat pulled low, and the sound of his boots retreating on the concrete floor. The barn door creaked shut behind him, sealing off the echo of his presence. She heard the sound of the door to his truck closing, the sound of the engine roaring to life, and the crunching of gravel as he drove away.
Sierra stood frozen for a long moment, a swirl of emotions choking the air in her throat. The coffee mug felt suddenly heavy.
“Thank you,” she whispered. The silence that followed was thick, a blanket of grief and resignation settling over her shoulders. She exited the barn and followed the path toward the house.
Once inside, she returned to the kitchen, the familiar creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath her boots. The ledger lay open on the table, the inked numbers a blur through her tears. She could barely make out the columns.
And then, she broke.
It started with a sob, raw and sudden, tearing from her throat like something long held captive.
The grief rushed in: her father’s absence, the ranch slipping through her fingers, Cody’s fragile hope, William’s desperate plea. All of it was crashing over her like a wave. But deepest of all was the loss of him. The quiet love that had grown between them, the way he’d held her the night her father died, his thumb tracing her knuckles as she wept. She’d let him go once. She’d thought there’d be time to get him back, once she had figured out what she wanted and got her life in order.
But time had run out.
Her tears fell freely, tracking through the dust on her cheeks. Outside, she could hear the wind sigh through the mesas, carrying the sound of nothing but silence.
And in that hollow, aching stillness, Sierra realized that she was truly alone.
The screen glowed, and the tone from her cell phone announced an incoming call. She looked at the caller ID.
Julian Rossi.