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“Now?”
“Yeah, let Kins know I’ll be back soon.”
“Wyatt—”
“I won’t be long,” I cut him off, not waiting for a response.
Heading straight for the barn, I saddled up Gambler, mounted, and rode out, hoping the distance might give me some clarity. Everybody wanted answers from me—answers I didn’t have.
Dad had let everything fall apart, blinded by his habits and drowning in debt, dragging our family name and the land down with him. After he lost Mom, who couldn’t stand the ranch life and left, he spiralled even faster, losing himself in drink and gambling.
Riding around, seeing all the overgrown fields and broken fences, the idea of taking on all that responsibility was overwhelming.
I gripped the reins, feeling the power of Gambler beneath me as we rode through the overgrown fields. The farm, once the center of my childhood, now lay in shambles.
As I guided Gambler around a dilapidated fence, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of this responsibility pressing down on me. This place, the land that had been in our family for generations, was now mine to fix, but the task was a mountain I couldn’t possibly climb.
I had wanted the farm back so badly, needing something that was mine. But now that it was, it felt more like a burden than a blessing. The bills, the repairs, the upkeep it would require—it was all too much, especially with the added pressure of keeping up with the rodeo circuit.
Then there was Kinsley. Beautiful, passionate Kinsley, who had been by my side through all of this. She wanted to help, to be a part of this new chapter in my life, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was dragging her down and asking too much of her.
I slowed Gambler to a trot, letting the gentle rhythm soothe my racing thoughts.
Kinsley deserved so much more than this, more than a broken-down farm and a man struggling to keep his head above water. She was used to so much more. How could I ever give her that when I could barely keep the electricity on?
A part of me wanted to sell the place, to cut my losses and go bury myself in work on the Jackson Ranch. But the thought of letting go of this last piece of my family’s legacy made my chest tighten. This farm was all I had left of my father, a man who had let me down in so many ways but who had also instilled in me a deep love for this land, horses, and rodeo.
As Gambler carried me back towards the house, I glimpsed Kinsley through the kitchen window, stirring a pot at the stove. Something was off; her movements were tense, her expression serious—a far cry from her usual vibrant self. Kinsley had grown up on a ranch, yet she seemed out of place here, like a rose in a field of weeds.
I dismounted, my boots hitting the dirt with a familiar thud. It was time to have a talk with Kinsley, to lay bare my fears and doubts. If she was going to be a part of this journey, she deserved to know exactly what she was getting into.
After I got Gambler put away, I took a deep breath and headed inside, steeling myself for the conversation I needed to have.
She looked up from the stove as I entered the kitchen, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Hey, you. I was making a little something to eat. Hungry?”
I shook my head. “Kins, we need to talk. Where are the guys?”
Her brow furrowed, and she set down the wooden spoon, giving me her full attention. “They took your truck and drove into town for a beer or something. What’s going on?”
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s ... the farm. The bank, the debt, my dad’s death—it’s a lot to handle. I’m not sure I can do this.”
Kinsley’s expression softened, and she reached out to take my hand. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”
As she spoke, I couldn’t help but notice the tightness in her expression. Her voice was steady, her touch gentle, but there was a hesitation in her movements that hadn’t been there before. It was as if the weight of the farm’s problems had already dampened her spirit.
I thought of my mother, how the isolation and demands of this place had slowly drained the life from her. I couldn’t bear the thought of the same thing happening to Kinsley—the woman I loved, the woman who brought so much light and joy into my life.
“I don’t want you to feel obligated to help.” I squeezed her hand. “This is my mess to clean up, not yours.”
Kinsley’s brow furrowed, and she gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Wyatt, I want to help. I care about you, and I care about this farm. It’s important to you, so it’s important to me.”
Her words, though sincere, lacked the conviction I was used to. She was holding back. Her usual passion and enthusiasm just weren’t there, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
“We’ll finish up the rodeo season, then we’ll decide. Take the time to think about if this is what you want.”
“But I want—”
“Kinsley, please. Take some time to think about it.” I pulled her into my arms and kissed her hair. “We’ll head out in the morning, okay?”
