Sarah glances down, her expression unchanging. She reads the first couple of lines, and I hold my breath.
She looks up. "I do not accept your resignation."
I blink. Wait. "What?"
"I said no." She pushes the letter back toward me like it's a bill she's refusing to pay.
"You can't just—" I shake my head, frustration bubbling up through the exhaustion. I don’t have any fight left in me. I’m a shell. An empty, hollow, shell. "Sarah—why not?" The idea of going home to my mother and that apartment above the barn sits like sour milk on my stomach. As bad as that would be, staying here hurts more.
"Because the job's not done." Her voice is matter-of-fact. "We still have two more weeks before the deadline, and if we're going to make anything happen, I need you here."
I want to roll my eyes. I want to tell her that she’s delusional. I want to tell her that Senator Martinez is blackmailing Wyatt into marrying Brittney and that I told him to. I want to tell her that this will all go away as soon as he says I do. But I can’t. Because even though we aren’t together, I can’t break his confidence.
"I failed," I say instead, my voice cracking on the word. "My idea was a disaster. Your family is in a more precarious situation than you were before I ever got here. The senator—" I can't even finish the sentence.The memory of Martinez's threats, Brittney's smug smile, Wyatt's face when I told him to marry her—it all crashes over me again.
Sarah shakes her head. "I disagree."
"You’re just being nice." I give her a weak smile.
She shakes her head at me. "I made more contacts last night than I have in five years," she says, her tone firm but not unkind. "I've found allies I didn't know existed.” She leans forward, holding my gaze. "I've never felt like I was in a stronger position to fight something like this. And that's because of you, Kinsley."
Tears prick at my eyes and I look away, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.
The kitchen door swings open and Grandpa walks in, his weathered face set in lines that suggest he's been listening longer than we realized. He pours himself coffee from the pot on the counter, moving with the deliberate slowness of a man who's earned the right to take his time.
"You thinking about quitting on us, Miss Rose?" he asks as he leans against the counter and crosses one ankle over the other.
Heat rises in my cheeks. "I don't think I have any other choice."
He drops a casual swear word that tells me exactly what he thinks about that. "You don't quit fighting until you're dead." He takes a sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving my face.
"But I—"
"No buts." He looks at Sarah, then back at me. “If Sarah says she needs you then that’s that.” He drains his coffee and pushes off the counter. “I'll give your horse that fancy grain she likes." A smile tugs at his lips. “I think she’s taken a likingto me.” The door swings shut behind him, leaving silence in his wake.
I stare at the table. My hand goes to the necklace at my throat—the one I should take off but can't seem to let go of.
Sarah sees the movement. Her expression softens in a way that makes the tears harder to hold back. "I've been trying to stay out of things between you and Wyatt," she says quietly, "because I don't want to interfere and he's not one to take my advice." She reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers. "But no matter what happens with the two of you, Kinsley, I want you to know that having you here has been a good thing for our family. It's been good for me."
The dam breaks. Tears spill over and I swipe at them with my free hand, giving a self-deprecating laugh that sounds more like a sob. "Sorry. I can’t seem to stop.”
Sarah pats my hand comfortingly. "If my son doesn't come to his senses, I might knock some sense into him."
I laugh at her phrasing—the image of Sarah Halloway taking Wyatt to task is almost enough to lighten the weight on my chest. But the laughter fades quickly because I know the truth she doesn't: it's not going to happen. I told Wyatt to marry Brittney. I pushed him toward a future that doesn't include me for a hundred reasons that I try to use as bandages, but they don’t stick.
I take a shaky breath and meet Sarah's eyes. "I will see this through until the deadline," I promise, and I mean it even though it feels like agreeing to my own slow torture. Everything about this place reminds me of Wyatt—the view from the porch where we watched the sunset, the barn where we talked about life, the land that runs through hisveins the way my mother's disappointment runs through mine.
"Or until Wyatt comes home, whichever is later." My voice drops. "But I can't be here on the ranch at the same time he is. So, when he comes back, I have to go."
Sarah studies me for a long moment, and I can see her weighing whether to argue. Finally, she nods. "All right.” She picks up my resignation letter and tears it in half.
I wipe my eyes again.
Sarah slides a legal pad and a pen across the table to me. "Where do you want to start?”
I struggle to haul my brain out of the manure pile and back on solid ground. Even if Wyatt marrying Brittney takes care of this threat, moving the ranch into a stronger position will fortify it. And I will leave this place better off than before I got here, which is good for the one thing I have left: my career.
“Let’s start by listing our new contacts, their interests and what we can do for them.” I uncap a pen. "Walk me through everyone you talked to last night before things went sideways."