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a lot to think about. And she wasnā€™t sure that she liked any of it. It sounded to her like her motherā€™s relationship with Cash had been more than a little dysfunctional. And she couldnā€™t deny that her mom had a decent sized stake in the way things had gone. But she also didnā€™t see the point in the two of them continuing to be sad forever. They both clearly had feelings for each other that they hadnā€™t resolved. But one thing Cricket couldnā€™t imagine wasā€¦

She could never marry another man.

The conversation with her mom had solidified that thought. Not after Jackson. She couldnā€™t have another manā€™s children. Chances were, she would grow old with her ranch. But at least she would have her own dreams.

When she pulled up to the house, he was on the porch, hammering boards in place. Each swing of his hammer was hard and decisive, every muscle and tendon in his body working harmoniously toward its goal. He was a thing of beauty. And the porch wasā€¦ It was practically brand-new. In the few hours since sheā€™d left, he had transformed the place. It was no longer sinking, no longer looking dilapidated. It was incredible. And it was all him.

He was incredible.

Her heart lifted in her chest, and she feltā€¦ She didnā€™t really know. Renewed in some ways. Her motherā€™s story was tragic, but it was also a reminder that there was no circumstance Cricket could simply sit back and accept.

She was James Maxfieldā€™s daughter. That hadnā€™t been her choice. But everything she did with her lifeā€¦that was her choice. James didnā€™t own her. Didnā€™t have a claim on her. She was Cricket. Named after the simple summer nights her mother loved and remembered. After a time in her life that had been special to her. After memories that had mattered. And Cricket was made of those things as much as she was her fatherā€™s DNA.

It made her feel rooted, grounded to this place, and certain of her decisions. Much more so than she had ever been before.

ā€œHorses,ā€ she said as soon as she got out of the truck.

ā€œExcuse me?ā€ Jackson looked up, his gaze meeting hers, sending her stomach into a freefall.

ā€œHorses,ā€ she reiterated. ā€œI want to breed horses. Thatā€™s what this ranch is going to be. Iā€™ve decided. I want to start right away.ā€

ā€œWeā€™re going to have to build stables.ā€

ā€œThen letā€™s work out a budget. And I can find a contractor. I know it might take some time, but Iā€™m willing. Because my life is going to be what I want it to be. It doesnā€™t matter what my DNA is. I talked to my mother today. James is my father. For sure and for certain. But thatā€™s not even really the biggest thing. My mom lived a life that she didnā€™t love for years because she felt trapped in it. Because she felt like she didnā€™t have a choice. I never want to feel like I donā€™t have a choice. Iā€™m not one determined thing because Iā€™m Jamesā€™s daughter, and not Cashā€™s. Iā€™m not anything but what I decide to be.ā€

ā€œGood for you.ā€

She pointed her index finger at him. ā€œBut you canā€™t have my ranch.ā€

ā€œThatā€™s okay.ā€

ā€œAnd you still have to finish out the terms of the bet. Iā€™m not going to have you back out early, just because you canā€™t do your whole secretā€¦thing. I have nothing but your own honor as a man to hold you to it.ā€

ā€œYou got me.ā€

ā€œAnd I want to keep sleeping with you,ā€ she said, suddenly resolute in that decision too. ā€œUntil this is over.ā€

ā€œYou sure?ā€

ā€œIā€™m sure. Iā€™m building my life. And this is who I am. I donā€™t sit back having crushes on men and not saying anything. I donā€™t just dream about having a ranch. Iā€™m going to have all those things.ā€

ā€œAnd then at the end of the thirty days?ā€

That made her chest feel sore. But she was resolute either way.

ā€œYou go your way. Iā€™ll go mine.ā€

And she wasnā€™t going to worry about all the things he could and couldnā€™t give her. She was going to focus on what she could do. Who she could be. What she could give to herself.

Because she would never be her mother. A passive participant in her own life.

No.

She was the one who decided.

Nobody else. She would have a ranch, and a man. And sure, it would be temporary. But it would be hers. The start of something.

And she was so very ready for her life to begin.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The crew had started work on Cricketā€™s stables. It was weird, now that his focus had shifted. He actually wanted her enterprise to be a success. And that meant looking at things from an entirely different point of view. That meant teaching her about ranching, rather than just making overarching statements and watching her stumble around. It meant bringing her alongside him for repairs, not just to show her how hard it was, but to show her that she could. And with each improvement on the property, he saw her become more firmly rooted in her sense of who she was, and there was a great sense of accomplishment inside of him that he couldnā€™t quite explain. Except thatā€¦ Except that heā€™d felt useless to fix the sadness that he saw inside of his mother, and being able to do something to give Cricket a better life did something to help heal that sense of failure.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he always thought that if his mother had gotten better, maybe he would have helped her leave his father. Given her a place to stay, proved to her that it didnā€™t matter whether they were together like a traditional family. What really mattered was her happiness. She didnā€™t need to stay. Not for him. But heā€™d never said it to her. Sheā€™d died before he ever could. Before heā€™d gotten his own place up and running. And maybe part of him had still been working toward that with

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