She doesn't push, doesn't offer platitudes about how they must be happy to see me. She just stands there beside me, offering silent support with her touch.
"Ready?" she asks after a moment.
I take a deep breath, then nod, grateful beyond words for this woman who sees my broken places and doesn't try to fix them—just holds them carefully, like they're worth protecting too.
"Ready," I say, and push open the door.
The smell hits me first; coffee, bacon, and something sweet baking in the oven. Then the voices, a familiar cadence of conversation that stops abruptly as we step through the doorway. Five pairs of eyes turn toward us, and I feel Mia's hand tighten around mine.
My father sits at the head of the table like always, a newspaper folded beside his plate, reading glasses perched low on his nose. Bradley's at his right, looking more like Dad every time I see him. Beside him sits Hailey, her dark hair pulled back in a messybun. I met her briefly when Dad had his heart scare. Across from them is Sawyer, who's worked the ranch since we were teenagers, and a young guy I recognize as Beckett, one of the newer hands.
I'm still taking it all in when Bradley rises from his chair, pushing it back with a scrape against the hardwood floor. His expression is unreadable as he crosses the room with those long, purposeful strides that used to make me think he was perpetually pissed off.
My shoulders tense reflexively. Despite our tentative peace these past few months, there's still a part of me waiting for the hostility, the disappointment, the reminder that I left when he stayed.
But instead of the grudging handshake I've grown accustomed to, Bradley pulls me into a genuine hug, the kind we used to share before I became the family disappointment. The unexpectedness of it makes my throat tight.
"Good to see you, brother," he says, voice gruff against my ear.
A knot loosens inside my chest. "You too."
When he steps back, there's a smile on his face I haven't seen directed at me in years. "Bout time you brought someone home."
I clear my throat, suddenly aware of Mia beside me, watching this rare moment of brotherly affection. "Everyone, this is Dr. Mia Phillips," I say. "We work together at Sierra Mercy."
"Work, huh?" Sawyer grins, leaning back in his chair with that same shit-eating smirk he's had since we were kids stealing beers from the kitchen. "That what they're calling it these days?"
"Ignore him," Hailey says, rolling her eyes. She stands and extends a hand to Mia. "It's nice to meet you. Coffee? You look like you could use some."
"Yes, please," Mia says with such genuine relief that everyone laughs.
And just like that, the tension breaks. Dad gestures to the empty chairs across from Bradley and Hailey. "Sit down before Ruthie comes in and scolds us all for letting her breakfast get cold."
Mia slips into the chair beside me, her knee bumping against mine under the table. I reach for the coffee pot before Hailey can, pouring a cup for Mia and then myself. Our fingers brush when I hand her the mug, and the simple contact sends a current of electricity up my arm.
"Thanks," she murmurs, eyes meeting mine over the rim.
Ruthie bustles in from the kitchen with a platter of pancakes, her face lighting up when she sees us at the table. "Oh good, you made it. I was about to send out a search party."
"Sorry," I say, not feeling sorry at all. "We got... distracted."
"I bet you did," Sawyer mutters into his coffee, earning himself a swift kick under the table from someone.
Breakfast settles into a rhythm of passed platters and comfortable conversation. Mia piles her plate with pancakes and bacon. It's the most I've seen her eat in the past two days, and something in me unclenches at the sight of her digging in with obvious enjoyment.
"Remember when Sebastian thought he'd impress Jennifer Scott by riding Thunder?" Dad suddenly says, setting down his fork. "How old were you? Fourteen?"
I groan. "Dad, no one wants to hear—"
"Thunder?" Mia asks, turning those curious green eyes on me. "Please tell me Thunder was a pony. A very small, gentle pony."
"Meanest stallion we ever owned," Bradley supplies helpfully. "Bucked off even the most experienced riders."
"And Seb, trying to show off for this girl from town, climbs right on," Dad continues, animatedly. "Didn't even make it out of the paddock before that horse sent him flying."
Mia's laughter is bright and uninhibited. "What happened next?"
"Landed ass-first in a mud puddle," I admit, unable to keep from smiling at the memory despite my embarrassment. "Right in front of Jennifer and all her friends."
