One

Sometimes, we have a hard time believing the truth, especially when times get hard.

That's how I am. I can't force my mind to think that we really sold my favorite horse, or that my best friend moved away to England or even that my father died that night ten years ago on the way to pick me up from school during a storm.

Sometimes, I'll walk into his study and say, "Hey daddy, can we go to the movies?" and then realize he's not here. He's not in the ranch house or the stables or anywhere on top of our property. He's buried under the willow next to the pond. He's covered with at least five feet of dirt, grass and wildflowers that I planted all by myself on the anniversary of his death that first year.

Every night, I cry myself to sleep, like I did when I was younger, except for the one important detail that my father would come into my room, read me a story and then hold me until I fell asleep.

Things have changed since he died.

My mother barely speaks to me.

She speaks to my older siblings who have moved out of state. She talks to her parents and relatives, but not to me.

I'm the daughter who killed her sweetheart.

If I hadn't missed the bus that day of the storm, then daddy would've never had gone after me in the horrid storm that took his life.

My mother would've rather me died on that bus, instead of Daddy dying.

My name is Ivory Rose Beaumontę. I am eighteen years old and I run my parents fourteen- thousand acre ranch by myself, along with having a normal life (or at least as much as I can fit in) and managing to pay the bills.

Ever since I was eight, I haven't set foot in a school. I homeschooled myself all those years and then when I turned twelve, I took up running the ranch from the ranch hands.

My mother sits in front of the window, still six years later, and watches the long, windy road that lead to our farm waiting for Daddy to drive into the empty parking spot for his pickup.

"Rosie!" I heard a deep, male voice literally sing out to me.

I snapped out of my daze and spun off the fallen tree and turned to see the uber handsome man, Tyler Vasquez.

I sighed a unhappy sigh, "Ty, what are you doing out here? It's five A.M., you know my regular time for my morning ride. My morning ride that takes place all by myself."

"I thought you could use some company and a better breakfast since Jimmy's in charge of breakfast today."

He handed me a brown bag, the one's you would take to lunch in elementary school. I felt my stomach growl and I carefully peeked inside the bag.

I gasped, "Ty, how did you know?" I asked, completely surprised to see my favorite things for breakfast. A warm, English muffin, a glass container of scrambled eggs, French toast , a crisp, green apple and of course a couple of long carrots for my horse of the day, Starlight.

He shrugged, obviously pleased with himself, "A little bird told me. I get a bonus on the carrots right?" He asked.

I gave him a huge grin, "Oh, yeah. Starlight will love ya'." As I gobbled down my breakfast, he struck up a conversation.

"So today is your quote and quote, first day of you senior year, Rosie."

"Yeah but I'm studying in a college level type book, not a senior's." I argued.

"Do you ever think of going back to school?" He asked, kicking his feet back onto the log.

I sighed. He knew that I couldn't. Even though I wanted to, it just wasn't possible.