Fall With Me (Sugarland Creek, #3) (33)

Driving by myself wasn’t too bad. Normally, it’s a four-hour drive to Franklin, but with the extra weight of Ranger and the trailer, it took almost six. But it was enough time to get through half my audiobook and two twelve-ounce Red Bulls.

By the time I pull into Serenity Springs Ranch where I’m boarding Ranger, I’m ready to find a bathroom and some hot food that doesn’t come from a gas station.

“Hey, ya made it!” Easton greets me with a hug, and I return the gesture. This is his uncle’s ranch where he lets me and a few other pro rodeo members stay when we’re in town.

“Sure did.” Smiling at him, I notice how much muscle he’s packed on since the last time I saw him. “You’ve bulked up.”

He lifts his arm and flexes. “Been workin’ out and trainin’ for saddle bronc riding. Once I finish out the year pro ropin’, I’m makin’ the switch.”

My eyes widen because this is the first time I’ve heard the news. “That’s dangerous!” I poke my finger into his hard chest.

Easton’s like a brother to me, so I worry about him. After he retired from barrel racing a few years ago, he moved on to roping, and now I guess, saddle bronc riding.

“Aww…you concerned about me?”

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms. “Nope. I’m not your mother. Go break your neck for all I care.”

He chuckles. “Glad you haven’t changed since the last time we talked.”

Once he helps me unload Ranger, we get him settled into a stall. Then he introduces me to a few of his new horses and then leads me inside the large white farmhouse where his uncle greets me.

“If it ain’t the Rodeo Princess herself,” he taunts.

My cheeks heat at the attention. “You gonna watch me take the win this weekend?”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it. Hope you’re hungry,” he says, setting the table.

I nod. “Starving.”

After using the bathroom and cleaning up, I take a seat next to Easton and we dig into Uncle Pip’s famous pot roast. They catch me up on all the local town drama and even crack a few jokes about how often Easton falls off the bucking horses.

“I’m still trainin’. Gimme a break.”

“I can’t wait to watch it in action,” I tease.

During dessert, we talk about the upcoming rodeo and how excited we are about it. The rodeo technically starts tomorrow with free family night, but then starting Thursday, there’ll be seven rodeo events each night through Saturday.

Since it’s one of the larger ones in the state, the entire Hollis family comes and stays overnight in campers since they’re one of the sponsors. Noah’s trained a lot of the riders in other various pro events, so she stays and watches everyone.

“You sure you wanna sleep out here? There’s a spare room,” Easton says as he walks me outside.

“Yep, I’ll be fine. All my stuff’s already inside, and I like being close to Ranger.”

“Okay, well, if you need anything, text me.”

I open the trailer door and smile appreciatively at him over my shoulder. “Will do. Thanks, Easton. See ya in the mornin’.”

After breakfast, I plan on making the thirty-minute trip to Nashville to see my older cousin. Anytime I travel west, I schedule a visit. We exchange letters each month, but it’s not the same as seeing her in person.

Once I’ve showered and changed for bed, I call my parents to say good night. I’m sad they won’t be here, but it comes with the territory. The only other person Mom trusts to stay with Aunt Phoebe is my grandma, and she isn’t usually comfortable staying overnight.

Before I crawl under the covers, I flip through my binder filled with court docs, legal paperwork, and spreadsheets of expenses and earnings. I keep track of everything and document all the finances so I know exactly how much I have and how much has been spent.





Waiting in this cold room always makes me anxious.

Although I shouldn’t be. Getting to physically see and talk to her fills me with the type of happiness I used to feel when we’d have sleepovers and talk about our futures. She’d always say she was going to marry a rich man so then once I graduated high school, she’d take me on her private jet and we’d travel the world. Even at twelve, I knew it was just a pipe dream, but I loved the fantasy. As long as we were together, I didn’t care what we did or where we went.

As I wait for my turn to go into the visitation area, I look around at everyone else waiting and wonder how many other families have been affected by wrongful convictions.

It’s a tragedy, honestly. A justice failure.

“Ellie Donovan.”

After my name’s called, I stand and slide my sweaty palms down my jeans, then walk through the doors where I’m directed toward her table.

I wish I could hug her. Wrap my arms around her gaunt body and squeeze her.

She beams when our eyes meet. “Hey, cousin.”

I sit across from her, smiling wide. “Hi, Angela.”

Guards stand all around the room and as tempting as it is to reach across and touch her, I fold my hands in my lap.

“You look good,” she says, the metal bound on her wrists clanging together.

“So do you.”

She dramatically rolls her eyes because she knows after all these years here, she doesn’t. “I’ll look much better when I get parole.”