Page 16 of Josephine and Clay

I sit there with my coffee, watching it happen, and it’s hitting me harder than ever that I’m now on the outside, looking in.

This is what I wanted, right?

“Clay.” I look up. Boone’s watching me. “You sticking around a bit?”

I lean back in my chair, rolling my shoulders. “A few days.”

“How many’s a few?” Dallas asks.

I shrug. “Depends.”

Boone nods slowly, as if he expected that answer. “Got work that needs doing.”

I roll my eyes because that’s always the case. “Figured.”

“You up for it?”

I huff out a quiet laugh. “I can manage a few chores.”

He studies me, then nods once. “I’ll get you a list.”

The list’s longer than I expect. Fence repairs, troughs, cattle, a busted gate. Routine. A routine that I used to hate back when I was dreaming about freedom.

I glance it over and nod once. “Got it.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” he says.

I almost smile at that. “I won’t.”

Out here, things make more sense.

The air’s cleaner. The noise fades into something quieter, easier to handle. Wind moves through the grass, cattle shifting slow in the distance, the ground solid under my boots.

I get to work.

First the fence. Then the troughs. After that, the gate.

It’s all familiar. Muscle memory more than anything else. My body knows what to do even if my head’s somewhere else.

But somewhere along the way, that edge slips.

I lean back against a fence post, pulling a coin from my pocket and flipping it between my fingers.

Up.

Catch.

Again.

The cattle keep grazing happily, because they’ve got nowhere else to be. The house sits in the distance, smaller from here, but still full. Still moving. I watch it, then look away the moment my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out, glancing at the screen.

Brandon: You back yet? Got a big one early next month. You in?

I stare at it longer than I need to.

I can already feel it. The pull of it. The noise, the movement, the heat of the arena, the way everything narrows down to one thing that matters.