Page 105 of Holding Hope

Judging by the way her eyes lit up, this had been the moment.

“Avie,” she whispered, smiling like I’d handed her the sun. “I like that.”

I kissed her smile. “I like you.”

She giggled, leaning into my side again. “Let’s pay attention before Delia finds a way to make both our deaths look like an accident.”

Dusk settled over King Ranch earlier than I wanted, the sky dimming in a way that made the end of summer feel painfully real. Shorter days. Colder nights. And the quiet truth I kept trying not to think about:

Avalon would eventually get homesick. She would return to her fast-paced life in Los Angeles. She wouldn’t stay here forever.

But part of me wished she might consider it. Somehow, she’d begun to fit here— her dark hair woven into the sea of blondes and light browns that made up my family. I’d grown used to her being only a few steps away, ready to do anything with me, whether it was lying in bed all morning or mucking out stalls.

Melody adored her. Colton teased her like she’d always been one of us. And Avalon… she wasn’t the self-absorbed, careless girl I’d found in Daddy’s office months ago. She’d grown—softened in some places, strengthened in others.

She hadn’t said anything about going home soon, but I knew the thought had crossed her mind. It had crossed mine too. And when Brie left a few days after the rodeo, Avalon had been quiet the rest of the afternoon— not sad exactly, but something close. Melancholy.

“If you stare into the ground any longer, you’ll burn a hole straight to Earth’s core,” Colton called from the porch door, pulling me from my thoughts.

I shook my head with a small laugh, curled up on the front swing with what used to be a hot cup of apple cider. “I was just thinking.”

“Pretty damn hard by the looks of it.” He dropped into the chair across from me, crossing his legs and folding his arms. In the fading light, he looked like a younger version of our father— minus the blond hair.

Colton had always been easier to talk to than Dad. In some ways, he’d become a stand-in for him. Dad loved us, but he liked things a certain way, and his stubbornness—the same stubbornness he passed down to us—made conversations feel like arguing with a wall. Mama always said it was like arguing with myself.

“Summer’s almost over,” I sighed, picking at the blanket over my knees. “So much is about to change.”

Colton grunted, sipping his cider. “That’s not really what’s on your mind.”

Heat crept up my neck. I looked out over the barns and the homesteads stretching across the property. I’d spent my whole life here—running through fields, rolling in meadows, breathing this land like it was part of me.

I could never trade it for a noisy one-bedroom apartment in LA. So how could I ask Avalon to give up her life there for me… when I knew I wouldn’t do the same for her? It felt selfish. Silly to even imagine.

“What do you think of Avalon?” I asked suddenly.

His brows shot up. “I think,” he said slowly, choosing his words, “she’s a nice girl. I never understood your animosity toward her a few months ago.” He chuckled. “Avalon Kennedy is not my friend.”

I shook my head, remembering that day on the side of the road—how certain I’d been that we’d never find common ground. I’d been angry, and she’d been the easiest target.

“That night when Melody had her accident,” Colton continued, his voice shifting serious, “I’d never seen you like that. It scared me. But Avalon? That girl was a rock.”

His eyes met mine, steady and knowing. “She was there for you in a way no one else could’ve been. In a way you’ve never let us be.”

The breeze lifted his curls as he shook his head. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but I’ve never seen someone so determined to earn forgiveness.”

I smiled softly, looking out across the yard. Avalon had been trying—really trying—and hearing that even Colton could see her growth made something warm bloom in my chest.

“Whatever the two of you have going on,” he said, “I think it’s worth giving a real chance.”

My eyes snapped back to his. “I want to,” I admitted, fingers worrying the blanket. “But I don’t know what happens when summer ends. Will she go back to California? I can’t ask her to uproot her whole life and stay in Texas because…” My voice trailed off.

“You wouldn’t do it for her,” he finished gently. He set his empty mug down and leaned back, stretching his legs. “I know.” He sighed. “She doesn’t seem eager to go home. Maybe bringing it up wouldn’t hurt.”

I shrugged, exhaling slowly. I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to hear whatever answer she’d give.

“Where is Avalon anyway?” he asked, scanning the yard. “She’s usually no more than three paces away from you.”

“Movie night in Mells’ room,” I said with a smile. It had become their ritual—Avalon sneaking snacks into Melody’s room, the two of them curled up watching whatever movie Melly picked.