Chapter 5 - THE BANKRUPTCY OF THE HEART
Olivia stepped back as if she’d been physically struck. Her face flushed a mottled, ugly red, her professional composure completely shredded.
“You’ll regret this,” she spat out, her voice trembling with venom. “Both of you. I’ll sue for every cent of the wedding costs, I’ll sue for breach of contract, I’ll take every head of cattle on this God-forsaken ranch until there’s nothing left but dust!”
“Try,” I said from the porch rail. “Judge Callahan loves a good fraud case. And Marcus Vance’s signature on those bogus notary stamps will look lovely in front of a federal grand jury.”
She glared at me, then at Ethan, realization dawning that her game was completely, irrevocably over. Without another word, she turned on her heel, marched down the porch stairs, and climbed back into her Mercedes.
The tires squealed on the gravel driveway as she tore down the path, leaving a thick cloud of dust hanging in the autumn air.
When the sound of her engine faded into the distance, the ranch fell completely silent.
Ethan stood motionless on the porch, staring down the empty driveway where his marriage—and his illusions—had just evaporated.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he whispered, his voice cracking.
“I know, son,” I said, walking over and placing a hand on his arm. It was the first time I had touched him without tension since before Olivia arrived. “I know.”
“What do I do now?”
“You pick up your bags,” I said gently. “You go stay in town at the motel for a few days while we sort out the legal mess with the county. And then... you figure out who you are when you aren't trying to impress someone else.”
Ethan nodded slowly, swallowed hard, and picked up his duffel bag.
He walked down the stairs, got into his old pickup truck—the one Olivia had always complained was too loud and dirty—and drove away without looking back.
I stood on the porch alone.
The sun was beginning to dip below the western ridge, painting the sky in deep shades of gold, amber, and royal blue. The same blue as the dress hanging in my closet.
May you like
I took a deep breath of the crisp evening air. My chest felt lighter than it had in two years. The ranch was safe. The land was still ours.
And for the first time in a very long time, I felt like the mistress of my own home.
