Page 80 of The Hometown Heartbreaker

He blinked once more, finally snapping out of the trance the woman had clearly put him under.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to make up for your rude behavior.” Mom spoke beneath her breath as she joined us. “Now go hire her. I like her.”

“Rude?” Dean questioned.

“You blanked her,” I pointed out.

“I didn’t…I was just…” Dean fumbled over his words, shaking his head.

It was nice to see Dean off balance, on the back foot for once. He was always in control. Never showing any emotion. I was actually a little bummed that I was leaving and wouldn’t be able to watch this play out. I glanced over at my mom, I could see that she was as amused by my brother’s reaction as I was.

Dean stood taller straightening his shoulders. “I’m not going to hire her just because you like her,” he stated firmly before heading down the hall.

Since taking over the role as CFO, Dean had insisted on having the final say in all employment contracts, mainly because my mom took in every sad sob story and paid them according to their needs, not their job descriptions or ability. It was generous, kind, and I for one loved that about her, but I wasn’t the one dealing with the bottom line.

When Dean took over, the ranch was in the red thanks to Mom’s visions of the spa, vineyard, and resort expansions. Not to mention her rescuing every hurt or abused animal in the state. He’d worked very hard to put us in the black. Part of that meant taking the reins on payroll.

“No, you’re gonna hire her because you like her,” Mom said beneath her breath as we watched him pause at the door and take a breath before walking in.

“Do you have a minute?” I asked as my brother disappeared into the conference room.

“For you?” She lifted her arm, straightening it. “Always.”

We headed into her office, and she lowered herself onto the couch and patted the cushion beside her. The space was her sanctuary—wide windows overlooking the sweep of the pastures, the sea glimmering blue on the horizon, every surface crammed with succulents, African violets, and the occasional surly cat, or in this case the kitten she’d stolen from me. Minnie was curled up on the windowsill, basking in the sunlight. She’d designed the place herself, and in the morning light, it looked like a slice of Tuscany had been dropped in the middle of coastal Oregon.

I sat down, trying to find the words. I’d rehearsed what I needed to say all night, but now that I was here, my mind was blank, and I didn’t know where to start.

“Everything okay?” she asked, peering sidelong, voice gentle but edged with maternal radar.

“Yeah,” I said. “I just—needed to talk to you.”

She was quiet, the way she always was when she knew something big was coming. She never forced it, just let the silence settle until you had no choice but to fill it.

“I’m leaving,” I finally confessed, and the admission felt like a boulder tumbling out of my chest. It wasn’t what I’d planned to tell her, but I had never been good with words.

She blinked, once, then twice, like she suspected more but didn’t want to get her hopes up. “Leaving the ranch for the day or leaving, leaving?”

“Leaving, leaving. I’m moving to New York.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t say anything, didn’t launch into arguments or try to guilt me into staying. She just listened, which was so much worse than anger, because it meant she knew this was real.

I tried to explain how much I loved the ranch, how I loved working with my family, and with the animals. I told her about Sadie, how she’d come back different, stronger, but just as much mine as she ever was. I told her I was terrified of losing her again, that I wouldn’t survive it a second time.

“She’s your future,” Mom said, and it wasn’t a question.

“She’s my everything,” I admitted, the words rawer than I meant them to be.

She nodded, lips trembling, and for a moment I thought she’d finally break. Instead, she just got up and wrapped me in a hug, the kind that made you feel small and indestructible at the same time.

“You’re not mad?” I mumbled into her hair.

“How could I be mad?” She pulled back, knuckling tears from her cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted for my boys is for you to be happy. I know you haven’t been happy, not truly happy, since Sadie left.” She sniffed. “You belong with her. Will I miss you? Of course, you’re my boy, but this is the right thing to do.”

I swallowed, the relief so sudden it made me dizzy.

She smiled, shaky. “But you will visit, or I’ll send your brothers to drag you back by your ankles, and you know they’ll do it.”

“Every summer and holiday,” I agreed.