Chapter 46 Back to Manhattan
The words on the screen hung in the air, a silent alarm bell clanging in her head, instantly dissolving the fragile peace she’d just discovered.
Ryder felt the subtle shift in her grip, saw the color drain from her face. “Si? What is it?”
She shook her head, unable to speak, her gaze glued to the screen. Mr. Sterling. William Fitzgerald Sterling, her mentor, her senior partner, the man who had seen her potential and given her a chance.
“I… I need to call Chloe,” she managed, her voice a thin thread. Excusing herself. She guided her horse a short distance away, seeking a modicum of privacy in the vastness. Ryder watched her go, sensing the abrupt intrusion of her other life.
She fumbled with the phone, then pressed the speed dial button for Chloe. The line rang twice, then Chloe’s voice, usually poised, was a panicked rush.
“Sierra! Thank God!”
“Chloe, what’s going on? What about Mr. Sterling?” Sierra’s heart hammered against her ribs, the quiet of the plateau suddenly oppressive.
“He had a stroke, Sierra,” Chloe blurted out, her voice cracking. “This morning. At his country club, playing golf. Collapsed on the green. They rushed him to Mount Sinai. It’s bad, Sierra. ‘Critical but stable,’ is what they’re saying. Clients are calling, the media is sniffing around, and everyone is asking for you.”
Sierra closed her eyes, a wave of nausea washing over her. William Sterling? A stroke? The idea was inconceivable. “Mount Sinai… his wife is with him?”
“Yes, Mrs. Sterling, and their son, David. But it’s chaos here, Sierra. Absolute chaos. When can you get back?” Chloe’s voice was desperate, mirroring the frantic energy of a firm suddenly rudderless.
Sierra gazed out at the endless Arizona landscape, now blurring through a film of unshed tears. The Sage Ranch, the mountains, Ryder… all receded into a vision of unforgiving skyline of Manhattan, the demanding hum of the marketing firm. The profound sense of peace she had found in the past days was shattered, replaced by an acute awareness of her divided loyalties. She had just committed to this rugged, beautiful life, to Ryder, to her family’s legacy. But Sterling, her mentor, her firm, needed her.
“I’ll be on the first flight I can manage,” Sierra said, her voice firm despite the ache in her chest. “Book it, Chloe. Get me on anything going to JFK or LaGuardia, doesn’t matter. I’ll be in the office the moment I land. Start compiling a brief on all active Sterling accounts, anything he was personally handling,” she added, her voice softening, “thank you, Chloe. You’re doing great.”
Chloe disconnected, leaving Sierra alone with the vast silence and the impossible decision she’d already made.
She turned her horse back towards Ryder, the familiar rhythm of the animal’s gait offering no comfort. Her face must have told the story. Ryder’s expression a mixture of concern and resignation.
“William Sterling had a stroke,” she said, the words heavy and metallic in her mouth. “It’s serious. They need me. I have to go back to Manhattan.”
Ryder nodded, his gaze unwavering, but she saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes that mirrored her own. He reached out, pulling her gently into his arms, holding her close against his chest. She buried her face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of sage and leather that she’d grown accustomed to, letting out a shaky breath.
“I just found this,” she whispered, her voice muffled. “Found you.”
He stroked her hair, his hand warm against her scalp. “I know, Si. I know. But you don’t have a choice. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t go. It’s who you are.” His words were a balm, understanding rather than accusation, but they amplified the pain of leaving.
Her eyes focused on his. “Can we… can this survive that? The distance? The other life?”
He caught her chin, tilting her face up further. “Si. No matter how far away you have to go, this will still be here. And so will I. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
The next hour was a whirlwind of frantic preparation. Sierra found Cody in the barn, tinkering half-heartedly with a saddle. He looked up, surprised by her sudden appearance, then by the grim set of her jaw.
“Cody, I have to go back to New York, immediately,” she stated, no preamble. “William Sterling, my partner, had a stroke.”
Cody’s eyes widened. “What? No! What about the ranch? Dad? You just said you were staying!” His usual flightiness gave way to genuine panic. “I can’t do this alone, Si! You know I can’t!”
Sierra braced herself, her spine stiffening. This was his moment to step up. “Yes, you can. And you will. You have to manage things. You know the land, you know the people.” She paused, fixing him with an intense gaze. “This isn’t a game, Cody. It’s time for you to prove you’re capable of more than the next big party.”
He stared back, the usual quick retort dying on his lips. He saw the seriousness in her eyes, the burden she was carrying. A new resolve, tentative but present, flickered in his own. “Okay, Si,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady. “I’ll do my best. I promise.”
“I’ll be checking in. Ryder will help you, too. But the responsibility is yours.” She gave his arm a firm squeeze. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. But I’m counting on you to keep this place running.”
Her father was on the porch, watching the distant mountains, a quiet solitude resting on him. When she told him, his expression remained stoic, but she saw the slight tightening around his mouth, the brief flicker of disappointment that quickly faded into understanding.
“I hate leaving you, Dad, especially now. I just found my footing here.”
He placed a gnarled hand over hers, a rare gesture of tenderness. “You were always meant for more than this dirt, Si. You got a big brain, a sharp mind. You’re like your momma that way. But you got my fire, too. The one that fights for what’s right. The one that never quits.” He squeezed her hand.
Tears welled in Sierra’s eyes. This was the healing she’d craved, the understanding she hadn’t thought possible. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“Love you too, Si,” he replied, his voice gruff but warm.
The drive to Flagstaff with Ryder was a silent affair, the unspoken emotions were too vast for words.
He walked her to the security checkpoint, their hands entwined, neither wanting to let go. The moment stretched, heavy with the weight of uncertainty and the fragile hope of what they had found.
“I’ll call you every day,” she promised, her voice thick.
“You better,” he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips, though his eyes were serious. He pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing her against him, inhaling her scent one last time. “Remember where you belong, Si.”
They shared a deep, heartbreaking kiss. She lingered in his arms until he pushed her toward the waiting TSA agent. She didn’t dare look back until she was through the scanner. When she did, Ryder was still there, a lone, rugged figure watching her. He smiled and gave her a slow, steady nod. She raised her hand in a small wave, then squared her shoulders, and walked towards her gate.