Flynn nodded at the deed on the bed beside her. “Can’t say I’m real thrilled with the idea of you goin’ off and havin’ your own place.”

Ivy wanted to argue with Flynn, tell him she’d be fine, that she’d already plotted out how to make a go of raising sheep. But the words stuck in her throat.

Brody stared at the floor, his shoulders slumped like he’d been whupped. She hoped he felt bad for chasing Jericho off. And she hoped Flynn did too. But deep down, she suspected that even if her brothers hadn’t shot at Jericho, he would have gone anyway.

When he’d come back to Colorado, he’d been trying to steer clear of her, just like Flynn said. But she’d gone and thrown herself at him like she usually did.

She closed her eyes to hold back a sudden sting of tears. Jericho had never wanted to stay, never wanted to be with her. She’d been the one pushing for it, pushing him to change his plans so they could be together.

“Mighty sorry, Ivy.” Brody’s soft comment rammed into her like the sharp horns of a bull.

The pressure unleashed the gates so that her tears started to flow. She rolled over on her side until she was facing away from her brothers so they wouldn’t see her crying. It had always been this way with Jericho—her wanting him more than he’d ever wanted her. And this time, even though Jericho had admitted he wanted her, it still hadn’t been enough.

Hot trails trickled down her cheeks. She tried not to sniffle, but one came out anyway.

“Shoot, Ivy,” Flynn said gently. “I always liked Jericho, but you’ve gotta see this is for the best.”

The tears only flowed faster. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Silence fell over the room.

She just longed to be left alone so she could cry without anyone seeing or hearing her. “I’m tired. Reckon I could use some privacy so I can sleep a spell.”

The silence dragged out a few more heartbeats before footsteps crossed the room and the door opened and closed. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was there before burying her face into a pillow. The sobs welled up so forcefully, her chest felt on fire.

Oh, Jericho. Why? Why did you have to leave? Why couldn’t you care enough to try to make things work?