Page 26 of Live, Ranch, Love

“How success doesn’t always equate to happiness, and why that’s bullshit.” I bite my lip to contain the beaming smile that follows when Wyatt’s face lights up, softening all his harder features.

“I hope you gave me credit.”

“Oh, of course. I made sure to reference tall, grumpy rancher in the footnotes,” I say, meeting his gaze.

There’s a palpable silence between us as his dark eyes lock with mine. A strange heat rises within me, but not the usual ire I experience with him.

It’s too weird, so I cut the stare off first and clear my throat.

“But the inspiration didn’t stop there. I’ve been thinking a lot this weekend about what I want to do with my life. I know I love helping and inspiring people, and it felt really good to be surrounded by people on Friday. And you’re right about this place, how happy and peaceful it feels. So, I came up with a bit of a plan… one that means you can keep your job.”

I reach behind me to grab my paper from the sofa, and when I turn back around, Wyatt’s walked over, barely a couple of steps away. I have to tip my head up to him. The way he towers over me still has that intimidating edge to it, but it also gives me a little heady rush.

I unfold the paper quickly between us, creating some distance again.

“Ta dah!” Just seeing the collage of pictures I’ve put together gives me a thrill, like this could actually happen, like my body knows this is the right path. And I’ve seen two butterflies already this morning, so the universe must agree too.

Wyatt’s expression does not reflect the same, however. “What is it?”

“It’s a vision board.” His quirked brow begs for an elaboration. “It’s a collage of images that represent what you want. It’s supposed to help you visualise your goals and future, which motivates you to achieve them.”

I still have my first ever one I made at university somewhere at home, when I first decided I wanted to start blogging. And here I am, so they must have a bit of power to them.

Now is the part where I’m supposed to explain my ideas, but the thought of saying it aloud is scary. It will make it real, which sets it up for failure. But also, success. I could literally be about to speak it into existence.

“I want to turn this place into some sort of wellness retreat,” I confess, stomach churning from nerves. I need Wyatt to be on board for this to work, and his blank expression isn’t looking promising.

“Look, the buildings are already being renovated. This place needs money, and running the ranch alone isn’t enough, we both know that. But Sunset Ranch is so much more than just a ranch—the joy and serenity I feel here is unparalleled to anywhere else. Imagine sharing that with other people—helping them to feel happier, maybe even inspiring them to create too. I really think this could be a hit. And it could bring money into the town too with new visitors.”

Wyatt rubs the back of his neck, opening his mouth to respond, but I’m too scared he’s going to reject my idea, so I keep talking.

“And you’d stay here, be in charge of the ranch properly—everything ranch-related goes through you not me, because let’s be honest, I have no idea how it works. Maybe you guys could do riding lessons and trails too. But basically, it couldn’t work without you.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

I know I’m impulsive sometimes, and don’t always think things through, but with this, I really have. When I first arrived here, I was more than happy to sell this place—I knew I wasn’t going to stay in Colorado, and there was no point in trying to run the ranch from across the world. There were people I could easily sell it to. The ranch was also a reminder of Auntie Grace no longer being around and how lonely I was, how I was struggling to get work done.

But now, I just feel called to stay.

Growing up, we moved around a few times. It never really disrupted our lives too much, and I quickly adapted to my new environment, but it meant I never had a place that I felt really connected to. I’ve never had a home, just lots of different houses. And even though I love living in London, that’s not my home either. I know I won’t stay there forever—I don’t think anyone can truly stomach it for their whole lives.

Yet I always had Sunset Ranch growing up. That was always constant, until I got older. The joy and freedom I felt here growing up never disappeared. It’s the same now. Every morning I have woken up, walked out onto that back deck with my hot lemon water, breathed in the fresh air that smelled like freedom, and felt this thrumming in my chest that says home, home, home.

I know Wyatt must feel the same. I’m not going to pretend either that a small part of me doesn’t also feel bad that if I sell the ranch, it’s taking it away from him too. He doesn’t deserve that.

Though I’ll never say it aloud, maybe I did need Jake to cheat on me, to force me out here, so I could remember where I always felt like I belonged.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

eleven

Aurora

“Aurora, I’m not sure…” Wyatt’s forehead creases.

“Okay, listen to me.” I grab Wyatt’s hand and pull him over to the sofa where we sit. I put the vision board on the table in front, glancing at all the pictures to give me the motivation to fight for this.

My knee bumps against his as I turn to face him. He glances down at it briefly, then jerks his leg back.

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