Her mind did a rapid calculation for how much more money she needed until she had enough for the down payment on the land. She might be able to convince Steele to hold it for her with the little she’d saved so far, but she still had at least two months of Sundays left—maybe three—before she’d have the amount Steele wanted.

“I need more time.”

“What for?”

“I’m saving up so I can buy my own spread.”

He studied her face. And he didn’t scoff the way some of the cowhands did when she talked about trying to start her own ranch. That was one thing she appreciated about Jericho. He never discouraged her from roping and riding and all the other duties that came with cattle ranching. He’d let her tag along with Dylan and him and had been a patient teacher, more so than most.

“How much more do you need?”

She dropped her hand from his chest. “Ain’t gonna lie. I got a long ways to go.”

“How long?”

“Was hoping I’d save up enough by the end of the summer.”

He started to shake his head, protest crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

“End of August.” She spoke fast before he could give her an ultimatum. “I’ll for sure earn enough by the end of August.”

He pressed his lips together.

“Please, please, please, Jericho. Try to understand.”

“For the love of heaven, Ivy. Why are you so headstrong?”

“This is important to me. I need my own place.” As much as she loved Wyatt and Flynn and Brody, they had their own lives and families. She was still living with Wyatt most of the time but bedded down at Flynn’s or Brody’s once in a while when they needed an extra hand. She’d even stayed for a couple of months with Brody and Savannah after the birth of their first child, Hartley, who was now a toddling one-year-old with a sibling on the way.

The truth was, the more her brothers’ families expanded, the more pressure Ivy felt to give them the room they needed. Besides, she was ready to put an end to the roaming and finally put down roots. It had been too long since she’d been able to call any place home, not since the farm in Pennsylvania before Ma had died.

More than anything, though, she didn’t want to end up like her ma, having to rely on a man. She was short on memories of Ma and Pa together. Most of what she remembered came from the years her ma was married to Rusty. She’d had to wed the fella to save the family farm. But in doing so, she lost herself. Ivy couldn’t recall her ma being anything other than worn down and wearing Rusty’s bruises.