Another small town with another cookie-cutter main street, the shitty bar is in almost the same place as the last.

I don’t even know the name of the place we’re stopped in. I barely remember the show last night. All I know is we’re somewhere in Iowa. I think.

Every day just blurs into the next one. Like it or not, there’s only one thing on my mind.

Cheyenne.

I hate myself for getting wound up over a woman. Walking away from her makes me despise myself more. I never let women say no to me. I take what I want from them and they end up liking it.

But with Cheyenne it’s all different. She’s different.

It’s not like we could have stayed. For several days, Clay and I tried to get Cheyenne to talk to us. She always refused. Not once did she answer her phone or come out of her house.

The rodeo left and we went with it. One day rolled into the next until three months crept by.

Sometimes I want to blame Clay for things going wrong. I want to tell myself it’s his reputation that stopped Cheyenne from coming with us, but I know the truth is more complicated.

It’s my reputation as well. It’s my whole past and Clay’s whole past combined. Cheyenne’s got reason to believe we’re never gonna change and we’ve got no way to show her we aim to.

I tilt my beer bottle back and drain the last of it. Some sappy country song drifts across the bar. It’s my cue to leave.

I toss a bill on the table and make my way to the door. Halfway across the floor a curvy redhead shoots me a look. She’s surrounded by a group of friends but she breaks away from them and scurries over to me.

“Hey there,” she purrs. A hand with long pink nails sticks out for a shake. “I’m Miranda.”

I tip my hat but don’t accept the shake. “Nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

“My friends and I were wondering if you’d like to have a drink with us. My friend Vanessa’s boyfriend bailed on us and now we’re just hanging out.” She flutters her lashes at me. “We could use a guy to join our group.”

I glance briefly at her three friends, who watch us like hawks. “Thank you very much, but I’m not in the mood for socializing tonight.”

“Oh. I hear ya.” She cocks her hip and looks me up and down. “So how about you and I just have a drink on our own? You know Sullivan’s? It’s the pool hall down the street. They’re never busy. We could also go back to my place. It’s only a few minutes away.”

I rub the back of my neck, already sure of what I’m going to say.

She presses a finger against my chest. “Well?”

I give her a tight smile. “I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. Thank you, though.”

Her lips pout. “Aw, you’re no fun. Come on...”

I veer around the woman and burst from the bar. The hot evening air presses against my skin and I make the walk down the block to the seedy motel on the edge of town.

Clay lays on one of the twin beds in our room, staring at the television. He barely looks my way as I settle down across from him.

“What are you watching?”

He shrugs.

“Fine.”

I take my hat off and go into the bathroom for a shower. I’m getting used to Clay’s new attitude, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Ever since we left the Town of Cody, he’s been sullen and barely talking.

As far as going out and having fun, it never happens. We haven’t picked up a single girl since Cheyenne. My balls are bluer than the sky and yet there’s nothing I want to do about it. Every time I look at a woman all I can think about is how she’s not Cheyenne.

I turn the water on as hot as I can stand it and turn my face into the spray. My head goes back to the same place it always does. Images of Cheyenne’s smile, the Murphy ranch, and Heart Mountain crowd my mind.

Does she ever think of Clay and me? Does she wonder about what she missed by turning us away?

My pulse pounds in my ears and my stomach aches. There’s nothing to be done. Cheyenne and the ranches are gone from my life.

I need to accept it.

I kill the shower and grab a towel.

Clay’s voice floats through the open door. “I’ll talk to him about it… Sure… I already know what his answer will be… Well just hold on… I’ll call you back soon… Bye.”

I give myself a quick dry and step out of the bathroom. “You talking about me?”

Clay sits on the edge of his bed, his cell phone next to him. He looks over at me and smiles. “Maybe.”

I cross the room and snatch up some clothes from my open suitcase. “With Dan?”

“No, not with Dan.”

“Good, because I’m not signing on for next season. He keeps asking and I told him no.”

“You have some other plan?”

“I’ll figure it out. I’m tired of this shit. The road… a new town every two weeks. It’s not a life worth living anymore.”

“I understand.”

I yank on some jeans and turn to face him. “Who were you talking to? Spill it already.”

Clay leans against his knees. “That was my father. He’s retiring. He’s going to go and live in some old person community with my aunt in Maine.”

“Okay. What do I have to do with that? Does he need help moving?”

“You’re in a shitty mood.”

My mouth falls open. “You’re one to talk. Though at least you’re saying something. You barely even speak anymore. You walk around like a zombie. And all because...”

My teeth slam together. I can’t say her name. It runs on repeat in my head each day, but it’s not going to pass through my lips.

Clay isn’t fazed by my outburst. “We can go back there,” he calmly says. “My dad wants me to take over the ranch. He’s going to move to Maine.”

“Take over? You mean run it all by yourself?”

“Unless you want to do it with me.”

All of the air leaves my chest. I go and sit on my bed. “But that’s where...”

“Yep.”

“She’s not going to take us back.”

“Maybe not right away. But eventually she will. If we stay around and show her we mean business.”

I study his face. “Is that what you really want? Last you told me you hated the idea of going back home.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I used to. But being on the road these last few months hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I could be happy there, running the ranch. Even if Cheyenne isn’t in our lives. And it’s what you want.”

He’s right. The ranch and surrounding countryside have been on my mind almost as much as Cheyenne. To me, the two things are a packaged deal. One inevitably comes with the other.

But if push comes to shove I’ll take the ranch and live without Cheyenne.

“I’m in. What’s the plan?”