Page 75 of Cherry Tree Ranch

If this is how it’s going to be, we need to sell – even if it’s to him.

Daisy, I can’t do this alone. I need you.

Love,

Dot

Blood drains from my face. We read the next diary entry together.

August 1, 1926

When I was at the Mercantile bringing Mr Goodson jars of cherries to stock, Earl came up next to me, stroking my arm like a long-lost pet. He told me I made a big mistake turning his proposal down years ago, but it doesn’t have to be over yet.

I looked to Mr Goodson, wide-eyed and visibly shaking. He turned away, busying himself with grinding coffee. No one wants the onslaught of torture the Drake family will rain upon them.

If it’s the last thing I do, Dottie and I will keep this ranch. I hope I die here some day, resting in Joaquin’s arms.

“Dahlia?” Mom calls from the barn door. I jump.

“Back here.” I wrap the leather strap around the journal and set it on the desk.

She appears round the tractor and looks at the scene around us – the blanket, the documents strewn all over the floor, and the desk’s belly opened up and empty.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” she says.

She takes the blanket off the desk chair and runs her hand over the colourful threads. “I loved this thing when I was little. I used to wrap it round me like a dress and dance around the barn. Anyway, Dahlia, Emery says she needs you to call her.”

“Hey,” I say when Emery answers after one ring.

She’s crying. “Dad and I got in an argument. He’s such a jerk.”

“Yeah, he definitely can be. What happened?”

“I planned a small birthday party for myself this weekend,” she says sadly. Dad has forgotten my birthday more than once, but never hers. “My friends and I were going to have a fire in Dad’s fire pit, play horseshoes, that kind of thing, but at the last minute he told me I couldn’t do it any more. Can you believe that?”

To be honest, I can. “Did you ask why?” I say.

“He said his friend, Maria, is coming over, and he doesn’t want her to be bothered by us.” She sighs. “Dahlia?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think he’ll ever change?”

I walk round the kitchen in circles. “I wish I could say yes, but I doubt it.”

She’s quiet and my heart goes out to her.

“I’ve been trying to think of something special to make for your birthday,” I say. “Will you let me throw you a party instead? I’ll make an ice-cream cake, if that’s what you want, and we can have a fire and play horseshoes here.”

Before I finish saying it, dread washes over me. I’ve been in this position with her before. She hates Dad for the moment, but ends up defending him the next. I don’t have time to get in the middle of it.

But she’s thrilled. “Dahlia, that would be amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Chapter Thirty

I picked out a green cropped T-shirt, Cash’s favourite colour, to wear with my denim shorts. I lean in close to the mirror and slowly graze mascara across my top lashes. The best part of my outfit, though, is Mom’s vintage cowgirl boots. They make me feel beautiful and closer to Daisy and Dottie. I push my toe into the supple leather that feels and smells like home. I tug on the loops until my heel pops into place.

It’s been three days since Cash and I first kissed in the barn. I’ve used every moment of extra time I’ve had to prepare for Emery’s birthday, stealing kisses from Cash in between. The market was a success this Thursday and the honey is ready to harvest completely.