every one of us to discover something, to try something new, and to get out of our comfort zone. Even Cecilia faced and did things I never would have thought she would. This wasn’t the place for her. There was no doubt about that. But there was also no doubt that she wouldn’t go back to California the exact same person she was when she came to Montana.
Despite all of that, my family couldn’t get over themselves. They had destroyed what could have been such a wonderful experience. I wasn’t going to let them do that to my thoughts and memories of this incredible place. I was going to hold the Montgomery Ranch in my heart forever. It was never going to leave me, and I didn’t want to give that up to them. I wasn’t going to let them tarnish my memories any more than they already had.
Giving up that last night was my way to preserve the good parts about the trip, and the sanity of my family, as much as possible. Even if it tore my heart out to do it.
That sense of sadness and tension hung over all of us the entire time we rode back toward the ranch. It made every step feel impossibly long and dragged further and further. We started in daylight, but as we continued to ride, night settled in.
Late November brought on evening early and it left us riding in the dark for the first time during the trip. It was so different than riding in full daylight. There was none of the intense glare of the sun, but the moonlight didn’t even begin to replace the illumination on the path in front of us.
Riding in the dark was more treacherous and unnerving, and we slowed our pace to stay safe. Going more slowly had the unintended side effect of making me very aware of every sound anywhere near us. I worried about the wolves coming back or any of the other creatures that might lurk in the area at night.
But we kept riding. I trusted Sawyer to get us back safely and I did my best to focus on him rather than the ride. That got more and more challenging as the ride continued, and by the time I thought I saw a glimmer in the distance that could be lights, I was in serious need of proper comfort.
“The ranch lights are up ahead,” Sawyer called out, confirming what I thought I saw. “It won’t be too much longer now.”
In that moment, I couldn’t help but think about the fact that we shouldn’t have even been riding right then. We should be way out on the ranch gathered around our final campfire of the trip. We should be drinking coffee and eating the little apple and cherry hand pies we cooked up in a cast-iron press over the fire. I should have been curled up against Sawyer, enjoying the smell of him and his strong arm around me.
I glanced over at the herd. They walked along in tight formation, seeming to get both courage and body heat from each other as we led them across the ranch. If it were up to them, I was sure they would be hunkered down in the grass somewhere, bundled up together to stay warm as they slept for the night.
Moving them hadn’t been in the original plan, but it was what we were working with now. Since the tour was effectively over, Sawyer and Colt wouldn’t be out on the land the next day to gather up the cattle and bring them in. They had to be herded in that night.
As we got closer to the buildings of the ranch, we brought the herd in closer together so they would be easier to control. Sawyer rode up beside me and I turned to smile at him through the pain I was feeling.
“Hey,” he said. “I was wondering if you would like to stay at the house with me for supper tonight.”
My heart gave a little leap. “Supper?”
Sawyer nodded. “I can drive you back into town to the hotel to meet the rest of your family later.”
I beamed. “I would love that.”
“Good. Your father might not feel the same way, though.”
Some of the brightness of my smile faded and I shrugged. “I don’t really care what he thinks. He’s not going to control how I feel or what I do. I want to stay here with you, so I am.”
Sawyer grinned at me a