Page 15 of Cowboy's Healing Heart

She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “I wish the other kids could see me like you do.”

My heart aches for her. “They will, Ashanti. It might take time, but they will. And the ones who don’t? They’re not worth your time anyway.”

She nods, but I can see the doubt in her eyes.

“Hey,” I say, nudging her gently. “You know what my drill sergeant used to say?”

“What?”

I deepen my voice, mimicking my old sergeant’s gruff tone. “The only person you need to impress is yourself, soldier. Everyone else can kiss your shiny behind.”

Ashanti bursts out laughing. “Your behind isn’t very shiny.”

I clutch my chest in mock offense. “How dare you. I’ll have you know I polish it daily.”

She giggles again, and I find myself smiling. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this... light.

As her laughter fades, Ashanti’s expression turns thoughtful. “Mr. Shane? Do you think... could we do this again sometime? The self-defense stuff, I mean.”

I hesitate. Getting involved isn’t part of my plan. I’m here to work, to escape, not to form attachments. But looking at Ashanti’s hopeful face, I can’t bring myself to say no.

“Sure,” I hear myself say. “We can make it a regular thing if you want.”

Her face lights up. “Really? That would be awesome!”

I find myself smiling back. “It’s a deal then. But you have to promise me something.”

“What?”

“If those boys give you trouble again, you come find me. Promise?”

Ashanti nods solemnly. “Okay. I promise. Can I bring Hailey?”

“Sure. Just make sure you clear it with your mom.”

“Yes, sir.”

I stand, stretching. “Alright, kiddo. You should probably head home before your mom starts to worry.”

She hops up, slinging her repaired backpack over her shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks again, Mr. Shane. For everything.”

“Anytime, Ashanti. I’ll see you around.”

I watch her walk away, feeling a mix of emotions I can’t quite name. As she disappears around the corner of the barn, I turn back to the tractor I was working on earlier.

My phone buzzes again. This time, I pull it out and look at the screen. Three missed calls from my father and two from my brother. A text from my mother asking if I’m okay.

I sigh, shoving the phone back into my pocket. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the ranch. In the distance, I hear the low moo of cattle being herded in for the night.

For a moment, I let myself imagine a different life. One where I stay here, where I belong. Where I can make a difference to kids like Ashanti, where I can be more than a suit sitting behind a desk.

But reality crashes back in. I have responsibilities and expectations to meet. This—the ranch, Ashanti, all of it—is temporary.

I pick up my wrench and get back to work, pushing away thoughts of family and belonging. But as I lose myself in thefamiliar rhythm of machinery, I can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’ve done something that matters. Something that’s mine, not dictated by my family or my past.

And despite my best efforts to stay detached, I find myself looking forward to my next lesson with Ashanti.

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