“Nope. So . . .” Sage twisted her hands. “One of our hands has been asking about you. He wanted to show up with some flowers and do the whole big, splashy ask-you-out thing, and I suggested that I test the waters out for him first.” She grimaced. “Is this the worst timing ever or what?”

“One of your . . . hands?”

“Ranch hands, yeah. He says he met you before?” Her eyes were a tortured mixture of sympathy and curiosity.

Oh. The flirt. Becca vaguely remembered the wink, but she couldn’t recall his face. “I think so.” She shook her head. “That’s really sweet of him, but tell him please no. I’m not ready to date anyone right now. I’m still . . . my heart’s still occupied.” Fresh tears started to come to the surface, so she shoved the cookie into her mouth and nearly choked on it.

“Of course.” Sage reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “I thought as much, so I wanted to come and see how you were doing. I know it was hard when you broke up with Greg, so I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.” She hesitated. “I heard he came by, too, and . . .”

Becca shook her head. “No and no.”

Sage exhaled with relief. “Oh good. It was going to be really awkward to tell you that you can do better than him if you’d have already taken him back.”

Becca laughed, though there wasn’t much that was funny right now. She swiped at her eyes. “No, this is ten times worse than the Wedding That Wasn’t. My pride was destroyed with that one. With this, it’s all heart.” She squeezed a fist over her chest. She kept waiting for it to get better—for her to miss Hank and Libby just a little less with every passing day—but it wasn’t. It still felt fresh, and awful.

Right now she’d give ten botched weddings for one right one with Hank.

“I just want you to know,” Sage began gently, “that if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or just to talk—or vent—I’m just across the street in the municipal building. And I always have cookies.”

She managed a smile. “Thank you, Sage. I really do appreciate it.” It was frustrating that everyone in Painted Barrel was coming by for gossip, but it also made her feel oddly loved. Like she belonged. Like she was an important part of the community and she’d be missed if she left.

She had to stay. Had to.

But late at night, when she hugged Alaska to her chest, she started to wonder if she was making a mistake.

Sometimes, she didn’t know. If she was positive she was doing the right thing, it’d feel right, wouldn’t it? Nothing felt right anymore, though. Nothing at all.

*   *   *