Page 70 of Live, Ranch, Love

This doesn’t require me to be someone I’m not. It doesn’t need me to be that ambitious guy Holly expected from me. It just needs me to be… well, me.

Wyatt Augustus Hensley might actually be enough.

Finally.

Because I can keep this ranch running, I can support Aurora through the retreat, I can help out with any errands when she needs time to write her book, I can take her on all the romantic dates she wants. I would happily do all of that.

If someone told me that was my future, I’d sign myself away to it without a second thought.

Don’t let the fear of what could happen make nothing happen.

But if I let myself consider this and don’t try and hold back from how I feel for Aurora, I could jeopardise everything I’ve worked for. She could decide that she only wanted me from a purely physical standpoint—the classic getting under someone to get over someone, a natural step in healing from a breakup, right? Even if she did want more, after some time, she might finally see that I’m not like these other hustling, ambitious gym influencers she seems to surround herself with.

I’m just Wyatt Hensley. Rancher.

And when she realises that she might decide this ranch life is too small for her. It might have worked for Grace, but Aurora’s still young, with vibrant dreams she wants to soar as high and wide as possible for, as opposed to settling down in the middle of nowhere. Then I’ll be back to the same position as when she arrived—having to give up my ranch. Except this time, I’d also be giving up my heart.

So then, what? I just let nothing happen? Let this fizzle out?

Out of fear.

Everything you want will always be on the other side of fear.

You have to evolve and become the person who is capable of winning that next level.

It’s scary to change who we’ve become so comfortable being.

The only version of me who can get past that is the Wyatt who lets himself root for a better future. The one who finds a way to believe that he might just be enough for a girl like Aurora Jones. Here I’ve been, wondering why Aurora can’t believe in herself the way I do, yet I’m just as bad as her.

But she believes in me. I can feel it. In the way she’s never judged my decisions in the past, the way she accepted my desire to do nothing but ranching for a living without question, the way she automatically made me a part of this retreat, undoubtedly happy to leave the ranch in my hands.

The way she stood up to my dad for me. Her fierce belief in me shone so brightly that evening.

Tightness pulls across my chest. I rub my hand over where my eagle tattoo sits, attempting to knead out some of the tension.

I’d managed to stay oblivious to what Aurora had been saying, until a familiar sentence leaves her lips, echoing behind me. “Sometimes the hardest thing we can do is trust blindly in who we are.”

A faint shiver racks my body, her voice sounding eerily like Grace’s the first time she told me that, just before I went to college.

I just need to trust blindly in my worth.

That I can be the person who can give Aurora this future.

And maybe I can do that, especially if I know Aurora is going to be by my side. Maybe I can try to make myself start hoping that she’ll stay, start believing that I’m enough for her, that this could actually be… long-term.

I’ll find a way to level up. For her.

And then I’ll give her everything she could ever dream of.

twenty-nine

Aurora

Ryan gives me a massive hug, then shakes Wyatt’s hand, thanking us both before helping Luke heft his suitcase into the boot of the taxi. He waves goodbye and climbs inside the car with a huge smile on his face, just like the other five did when they headed off throughout the day. I’m hoping that’s a testament to everything they’ve learned and worked on this week.

That’s the last one to leave, which means the first trial run of the retreat is officially over. I can’t rip my eyes away from the car until it finally disappears in the distance, beyond visibility, because I’m still kind of stunned that I managed it all.

Taking a long blink and a deep breath to steady all the excitement and nerves and just overwhelm from the whole week, I turn to Wyatt, taken aback by how brightly he’s beaming at me. I’m so bloody grateful to have had him this week—he’s been so helpful and supportive throughout it all, anchoring me back down whenever I needed it, like I knew he would. He even gave me another foot rub the other night whilst I scrawled down all my thoughts about what I could write in my book. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.

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