Upon arriving in Bashaw, Sophia was immediately assaulted by cowboy hats.

Tabby had lined the living room couch with about twenty varieties of hat, ranging from glittery blue sequins to the classic white to a straw hat with pom-poms on it. She was wearing jeans and a checked flannel top, and her nails were painted red to match.

"What," Sophia said, setting her suitcase down, "is this?"

"For the Stampede," Tabby said.

"We're not going to the Stampede."

Tabby gave her a "don't-be-stupid" kind of look. "Here." She thrust the sequined one towards Sophia. "Try this on."

"Tabby..."

"What?" She blinked. "Too much glitter?"

Sophia took the cowboy hat, turning it over and over in her hands. She could smell something sizzling in the kitchen — steak? — and John had the radio turned on to a country station. Somewhere, Grace was humming. Probably setting out laundry to dry on the porch.

Sophia was hit with a wave of nostalgia, and to her horror, she could feel her eyes begin to prickle. Tabby looked at her in alarm.

"You don't have to wear the hat," Tabby said.

"No, it's not that." Sophia scrubbed at her eyes. "It's just..." Oh, screw it. What did she have to lose anymore? "We can't go to the Stampede, Tabs; Finn won't want me there." She braced herself. "You see, I was never actually dating him."

Tabby sunk onto the couch, nearly crushing a bedazzled hat. "You weren't?"

"It was all for show."

"The whole time?"

Sophia nodded. "I'm sorry that I lied to you."

To her credit, Tabby didn't bat an eye; she fiddled with the pom-poms on the straw hat. "And Kit? You were actually dating him all along?"

"Yes. No." Sophia sighed. "It's complicated."

Tabby stopped fidgeting with the hat, setting it down. "It's actually pretty simple," she said. "Are you in love with Kit?"

"No."

"And Finn?"

Sophia hesitated. Her face must have said it all, however, because Tabby jumped to her feet, snatching up a jean jacket and car keys. "Put this on," she said, tossing Sophia the white hat. "We're going to the Stampede."

Sophia gripped the suitcase. "But I haven't even unpacked yet, and I—"

"Just get in the truck, Sophia," Tabby said.

She didn't need to be told twice.

Unfortunately, it was a half-hour drive to the Ponoka Stampede grounds, and Tabby's erratic driving did little to calm Sophia's nerves. She swerved to avoid slow-moving tractors. She honked at drivers going too fast. And by their fifth near collision with a cow, Sophia was certain she was going to suffer a minor meltdown.

"Almost there," Tabby said airily. "Look, you can see the parking lot."

Sophia muttered a swift prayer as they pulled into a parking lot near a bridge. A tractor with a cart was shuttling people to the Stampede grounds, but Sophia took one look at the winding path and swiftly decided to walk.

The June sky was thick with humidity. She wiped at her forehead, frowning at the grey clouds swirling overhead like milk poured in black tea. It better not rain. She was on edge enough as it was.

"He'll be happy to see you," Tabby told her.

Sophia grunted.

"And you look amazing," Tabby added.

Sophia looked down at her cream top, which was stained with dirt and coffee. Tabby was either a good liar or developing early onset glaucoma.

Her stomach flipped over as they reached the arena. Her eyes flicked to the clock. Finn should be going on in 30 minutes; he would be stretching somewhere, watching the other competitors. Evaluating them. She scanned the metal chutes, searching for a glimpse of blond hair.

Tabby saw him first.

"Actually," Tabby said quickly, "do you want a hot dog, Soph?"

"What?"

"I'm starving." Tabby seized her hand. "We can get drinks, too. Beers. Well, not for me, since I'm driving, but I hear they have really good lemonade and I—"

"Tabby." Sophia yanked her hand free. "What are you talking about?"

Tabby seemed to be trying very hard not to look in the direction of the metal chutes, which, of course, meant that Sophia did exactly that. And then she saw him.

Her stomach dropped.

Finn was leaning against the metal chute. He looked almost unfairly beautiful today; his blond hair had grown out slightly, curling at the top and the nape of his neck. He was wearing a blue shirt — the same color as his eyes — and it was rolled up casually to his sleeves.

And he was talking to someone.

A striking brunette.

She was laughing, whacking Finn playfully on the arm. Sophia watched, stricken, as Finn reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. There was a terrible sensation in her chest, as if elastic bands were squeezing her lungs, and she suddenly couldn't breathe.

"I'm sure it's not what it looks like," Tabby said.

She swallowed. "Let's just find our seats."

"Sophia..."

"Please." The word came out embarrassingly meek. "Please, Tabby."

Sophia just wanted to sit down with a large glass of wine. Possibly two, actually. Grey clouds gathered overhead, slick like an oil spill, and Sophia wiped a sleeve across her forehead. Maybe it would rain, she thought hopefully. Maybe the whole thing would be called off anyway, and they could go home and drink sweet tea.

Tabby cast one last look towards Finn and the pretty brunette. "Okay," she said. "You're right. Let's go find our seats."