Page 12 of Pure Bred

5

LOGAN

The sun is barely peeking over the horizon when I step out of the house, boots crunching on frost-covered grass. It’s a crisp morning, the kind that bites at your nose and makes your breath visible.

I start with the usual routine—feeding the chickens, mucking out stalls, fixing that damn fence post that keeps coming loose.

But today, I can’t fully focus on the work at hand.

My mind keeps drifting back to Sierra.

Those kisses. Fuck. I’m still buzzing all over. And I can’t believe she still wears that necklace. After all these years, all her success, she’s kept that piece of me close.

I shake my head, trying to focus on hammering the fence post. But it’s no use. My thoughts keep circling back to her. To us. To how easy it felt to fall back into our old rhythm, despite everything that’s changed.

I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up. She’s got her whole glamorous life waiting for her back in LA.

But damn if it doesn’t feel like something real is happening here.

Last on my list is tending to the horses. As I approach the stables, I spot Thunder, one of the retired racehorses we took in last year. He neighs softly as I approach, nudging my hand for treats.

“Hey, big guy,” I murmur, stroking his nose. Suddenly, I remember my awkward attempt at comparing Sierra to these horses. I cringe, then chuckle. What a dumb thing to say.

But Sierra just laughed it off. Teased me a bit, sure, but she knew I was just trying to support her. She’s still the same girl who used to spend hours out here with me, who understood this life.

I smile as I start brushing down Thunder. Yeah, she might be America’s Sweetheart now, but at her core, she’s still my Sierra.

I’m still smiling to myself as I walk over to the main house on the ranch. The aroma of my dad’s cooking hits me before I even reach the door.

“Morning,” I call out as I step inside.

My dad is at the stove, flipping pancakes. “Morning, son. Perfect timing. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Actually, I just came to talk to you about the barn?—”

He shakes his head at me. “Nonsense. Sit down and eat a proper meal.”

I know better than to argue. “Yes, sir.”

We both settle at the table. As I dig in, I can feel my dad’s eyes on me.

“How’s it been, reconnecting with Sierra?” he asks.

I finish chewing a bite of pancake and wash it down with a sip of hot coffee. “It’s been great. It almost feels like old times.”

“And when is she heading back to LA?”

“End of the month.”

“Right.” He clears his throat. “Listen, son…”

I stop him. “I know what you’re going to say. But you don’t need to worry about me. I’m well aware this might not mean anything in the long run. But she’s here, and I’m sure as hell not going to waste the chance to see her while I can.”

My old man nods, but I can see the concern persist in his eyes. He doesn’t press it, though, and we finish breakfast talking about ranch business.

After breakfast, I wrap up the last of my chores, feeling good about how much I’ve gotten done—especially with Sierra still constantly on my mind.

As I’m heading back to my house on the other side of the ranch, an idea hits me. Pulling out my phone, I make a quick call.

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