"This," Ophelia said, "is exactly why grand gestures only work in Hollywood movies."

They were sitting on the lawn, dressed in matching golden dresses, their heels kicked off. Grass tickled Sophia's bare feet. Ophelia was nibbling on a cracker, occasionally breaking off a crumb to throw to some lucky ants. Sophia flopped back on the lawn.

"This was a stupid idea," she muttered.

Ophelia poked her in the shoulder. "You have to go after him."

"He's busy," Sophia said. "Competing."

"So?"

"Just leave it, Ophelia." Sophia shielded her eyes with her arm, blinking as stars burst in brilliant gold and eggplant purple. "I'll send him a text. Like a normal person."

"Are you serious?" Ophelia demanded. When Sophia didn't respond, her cousin gave her a little shove. "You really don't get it, do you? Finn won't give a damn about how you contact him. Phone. Letter. Carrier pigeon. This is for you, you idiot." Another shove. "Go find him right now. Before you chicken out."

"I won't chicken out."

"Sophia." Ophelia's voice was exasperated. "I love you. Really, I do. But you've already chickened out twice. You're not exactly great at expressing your feelings."

It was, Sophia reflected, a rather good point.

She sat up slowly, blinking in the July sunshine. Ophelia's hair was a riot of crimson and gold, a veritable sunrise of colour. Sophia, on the other hand, still felt one bad moment away from vomiting.

And yet.

She'd screwed up. Badly. Sophia had been so convinced that her appearance was the only good thing about her — that it was her only strength — that she'd ruined things with Finn. And, Sophia reflected, she'd ignored him for six months. Who forgave somebody for that?

But she had to try.

"What are you saying, Fi?" Sophia asked slowly.

"Go to the Calgary Stampede," Ophelia said. "Tell Finn how you feel. And for god's sake, Sophia, don't screw it up this time."

Sophia drove like a maniac.

She took a leaf out of Ophelia's book, swerving around cars and honking when people weren't booking it in the left lane. Her heel jiggled on the gas petal. This was stupid. She was probably making a horrible mistake, and Finn wouldn't want her, and this was going to wind up being incredibly awkward.

But screw it.

She would do it.

She reached Calgary in record time, shooting down a major road and into the asphalt parking lot of the Stampede. Unlike Ponoka, the Calgary Stampede was more of a tourist trap: families dressed in matching white hats clutched cotton candy, and she dodged horse-shaped balloons on the way into the grounds. Country music blasted through the air, accompanied by the smell of cinnamon mini donuts.

Sophia was aware of several people staring at her as she ran towards the arena, but she couldn't have said whether it was because they recognized her face, because she was dressed in a gold dress and stilettos, or because she had a general crazed air about her.

Probably the last one.

The arena was already flooded with throngs of people. Sophia shouldered her way to the gate that led to the roped-off area, where she growled at a terrified security guard. Still, the young man stood his ground.

"You can't come in here," he told her. "It's for contestants and guests only."

"I am a guest," she lied. "I'm with Finn Hoag."

He consulted his list. "You're not on here."

"But I—"

"Those are the rules, ma'am."

Sophia let out another snarl, and she was gratified to see the man flinch. "First of all, don't call me ma'am; what am I, sixty? Secondly, I already told you, I'm with—"

"Me," a voice finished.

Sophia turned around, and then froze.

Andrew Hazelton-Scott was striding towards her, his arm draped casually over a busty girl wearing an orange tube top. His red jacket was rumpled slightly, and there were bits of straw in it. Sophia heavily suspected it wasn't from mucking out the barn.

"You must be Sophia," he said. "I'm—"

"I know who you are." Sophia studied him through narrowed eyes. "What do you want, Andrew?"

"Now, now," Andrew said, looking amused. "That's no way to greet a friend." He nodded at the security guard. "She's with me, Parker. Let her through."

The guard hesitated. "Technically, I'm not allowed to—"

"Come on." Andrew flashed him a grin. "Just this once? I won't tell anyone."

Parker muttered something under his breath. Still, he unhooked the rope, and Sophia shot through before the security guard could change his mind. Andrew and the girl followed through a moment later. She was just turning around to speak with him when her phone buzzed.

Finn, she thought.

But, no; Ophelia's picture flashed up on the screen. Her cousin was reading on a hammock, wearing a large grey hoodie that she had pulled over her knees. She was scowling at the camera, clearly annoyed at Sophia for interrupting her. Her red braid dangled over her shoulder.

Andrew leaned closer. "Who's Ophelia?"

Sophia stuffed the phone in her pocket. "My cousin."

"God, she's adorable," Andrew purred. "I wouldn't mind taking her for a ride. On a horse," he added innocently, seeing Sophia's expression. "Under supervision, obviously."

"Which is precisely why you'll never meet her."

"Never say never," Andrew said airily.

"Besides, she's much too good for you."

Andrew's smile grew. "I like a challenge."

The girl tucked under his arm glowered up at him. "Can we get a lemonade?" she asked, her lower lip jutting out. "I'm hot."

"You certainly are," Andrew agreed. "Besides, I could use another warm-up before the competition." He winked at Sophia. "Wish me luck, darling."

"I hope you fall in a cow patty," she said sweetly.

"I'll pretend you said thank-you."

"Andrew!" she called.

He half-turned to face her. The girl under his arm shot Sophia an annoyed look, but she wasn't paying attention; all her focus was on Andrew.

"I don't understand," she said. "Why would you help me?"

Andrew hesitated. "Hoag seems to have a bad opinion of me," he said finally. "And for some reason that's beyond my understanding, it's actually bothering me." He shrugged. "I respect him. He's a good rider."

"Oh."

He arched an eyebrow. "I assume you're here to declare your love for him?"

"I, ah..." Sophia shuffled awkwardly. "Something like that."

"I'd hurry up, then," Andrew told her. "He goes on in five minutes."