Page 9 of Run to Me
I’m ready to face this. To prove myself right and him wrong.
OLIVIA
I sit at the counter, the cold metal biting against my skin. Across from me, the bank officer’s gaze drifts, and he slides the papers forward with indifference. “Ace Montgomery is a serious bidder,” he intones, each word as flat as his ironed lapels. My hand tightens around the document, and the tick of my boot on the polished floor seems to echo in accusation. His voice fades as I scan the line, my eyes narrowing like a hawk honing in on a wounded rabbit. I stand abruptly, smoothing my blazer with a swift gesture that does little to conceal the fire rising beneath.
Everything about this place is designed to bleed emotion dry, but I feel the red heat of determination coursing through me. Ace Montgomery. A person I’d rather not contend with. My fingers itch with the urge to crush the paper, but instead, I force myself to smooth it out, my eyes sweeping over the text like it might rearrange itself into something more pleasing if I only look long enough.
“Seems you’ve got your work cut out for you,” he says, his tone neither cruel nor kind, just a statement of fact.
He wouldn’t understand the knot in my stomach, the way each word he says turns like a blade. His tie is as gray as his eyes, and I imagine his dreams must match.
“I’ve gotten this far on my own,” I reply, injecting the words with more steel than I feel. It’s true, though. I’m going to turn the our family ranch into something no one thought possible, embracing the nickname Bougie Cowgirl as both challenge and charm. And now this.
“I’m serious too,” I say, before standing and sliding the paper into my bag with an exaggerated care that makes my intent clear.
I don’t look back, not even when I hear the scratch of his pen resuming its march across another document, another life that isn’t his own. I let the heels of my boots speak for me, announcing my departure as I walk out into the buzzing white hallway, the door swinging shut behind me.
Why didn’t he take me seriously? I got approved, but they seem all for Ace getting the ranch instead. Is it because I’m a woman? Everyone in this town knows I’ve worked on that ranch with my family since I was born. I have what it takes… just as much as Ace freaking Montgomery.
The dirt road stretches before me, its dust rising as I press the accelerator and feel the grit of the past closing in. I stop at the ranch’s weathered gates, where the old barn looms against an unyielding blue sky, its silhouette both familiar and haunting. I step out of the car, the heat wrapping around me like a challenge, and smooth my high-fashion attire, a veneer of control over the raw emotion underneath. I walk along the cracked path.
The old barn’s silhouette against the sky is an unflinching reminder of what I stand to lose—and what I refuse to. The letters G-R-A-N-T are faded but still there, just like the stubborn pride I’ve inherited from generations who fought the land and sometimes each other.
As I walk, I adjust my jacket and the turquoise necklace that lies like a promise against my skin. Even in designer clothes, I’mjust a Grant on Grant land—always dressed up and nowhere to go but here.
At the clearing’s edge, I see my dad. His figure is a constant in the shifting landscape, a living link to the past that refuses to let go. He leans with casual grace against the old tractor, his hands resting easy on its rusted shell. It’s like time itself moves slower around him, like he’s waiting for the rest of us to catch up.
His voice is warm and steady, a low rumble. “Olivia, you alright?”
“Getting there.”
We start to walk, the slow pace giving my thoughts time to catch up.
“How’s all that auction stuff coming along?” His tone is gentle but insistent, and I know he’s asking more than what the words imply.
“Slower than I’d like,” I admit, and this time the honesty feels like a relief. We stop at the barn door.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” he asks, and it feels like the whole world waits for my answer.
I look at him, really look, and for a moment I see what he must: the odds, the history, the uncertain future. But I see something else too, something more. “I’m sure.”
My father has always believed in me. The total opposite of Ace’s father. Why that pisses me off to no end, I don’t know, but I want Ace to get his perfect future too. He has worked hard, but I’m not giving up this ranch without a fight.
“I believe in you, babygirl. My stupidity caused this, but I know that you will turn this place into something beautiful. It’s our legacy. Just a shame the only way to get it is to beat that Montgomery boy.”
His name of my father’s lips makes me cringe. I know it’s stupid. We shouldn’t even be fooling around. At first, we wanted to rebel. We were teenagers, but now we are adults. After adecade, you’d think we would have gotten sick of each other and moved onto something else.
Easier said than done when it comes to Ace Montgomery.
ACE
“I’m bidding on the Grant ranch.” My voice carries through the air, certain and steady, just like I’m not. My hands flex at my sides, anxious to touch something real, to wrap around the splintered fence.
Gavin watches me with a smile. “Just remember, cowboy, the dream might lasso you before you know it.” He rests his hands on the rail, like he’s settling in, but I know him too well to believe it.
A new kind of future, built from the ground up. That’s what I tell myself this is about. This land around us is wide open and thick with ghosts I need to leave behind.
“You know I’ve got your back on this,” he says, his easy grin never quite leaving his face. It’s like the damn thing’s stitched on. “But do you have a plan other than sheer stubbornness?”
