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“I’m in,” I tell Tessa when she comes into the kitchen, blinking numbly. I unwrap the tamales, put them on plates, and uncap the little tubs of salsa.

“They say to sleep when they sleep, but how the heck can you get anything done if you’re sleeping?”

“Do you ever sleep?”

She shakes her head. “Not much. So tell me what you’re talking about. You’re ‘in’? In for what? How?”

“The ranch. I want to pick out the decor and put up a website. That’ll give Hazel what she needs to go to investors for seed money to build out the full resort. I’ll photograph the heck out of everything, so Dylan has what she needs for our social media. I can live here at Loveland and take care of things so you can have a break. I just need to drive back to LA and get my clothes and stuff so I can be here for a while.”

She stares at the tamales but says nothing. She’s used to my big new ideas. And the fact that my sunshine-and-fun quotient eventually burns out, and I move on.

“I know, you think I won’t follow through,” I say.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. But I swear, Tess, I’ll see this through to the end.”

She rubs her eyes and listlessly stabs at her tamale. I reach over, slice off a piece, and put it on her fork.

“I don’t know, Cal. I love your enthusiasm, but I don’t think I can take it if you get into this and then find some shiny new penny in a couple of months.”

I stop chewing the most delicious bite of chicken tamale and try to swallow. It sticks in my throat because she’s not wrong about me. At least so far.

“That’s totally fair. But you can’t handle any more on your plate, and I’m here. Give me a chance.”

It’s not like I need her permission. Tessa doesn’t own the ranch. We all do. But my other sisters are liable to react the same way unless Tessa backs me up. I need her to believe in me.

She slices off another bite, seeming energized by the morsel of food. She stares at the ceiling while she chews, and by the time she swallows, she’s nodding. “Okay, great. You have amazing taste, and I know you’ll do a great job if you’re into it. Just please…don’t quit halfway through. I don’t think I can take it.”

I hold out a pinky, and she links hers with mine. Promised.

Taking out my phone, I scroll through a folder of images I’ve saved that give off a casual farm-to-table vibe, with animals and wide-open skies.

“If we really want to sell this idea to investors, we need a big visual presentation showing families and romantic couples backlit by sunsets. Classic California ranch meets fantasy wedding meets girls weekend. I’ll photograph everything, put lots of swoony images on our website, and Dylan can blast it out on our socials. When Hazel takes the financial plan to investors, we can show we have interest already,” I say.

Dipping my last bite into the pico de gallo, I eye the empty wrappers, thinking I could easily eat two more. New adventures always fuel my appetite, and I’m excited about this one.

I gather up the trash and drop it into the bin under the sink, noticing a little chicken pitcher shoved in next to some dish soap. I take it out, rinse it off, then look around for a shelf to display it. Moving a trailing ivy plant aside, I make room for the pitcher, looping a tendril of ivy through the handle and letting it trail down.

“What are you doing there?” Tessa points a finger at me, and I bop it away with my own finger.

“Just a little vignette to give you an idea of what I’m thinking. The vegetables, the flowers, the antique market charm. A few blurred-out pictures of someone twirling in a white dress, and we’ll convince investors that we can have weddings lined up for a year.”

I fold a dish towel so that the picture of a highland cow faces outward and is right side up before putting it back on the oven handle.

She watches, nodding. “You’re good at this. And I love the idea of you being around more. It’s summer. It’s gorgeous up here, and your job is remote most of the time anyway.”

“Former job,” I correct, looking out the kitchen window. It doesn’t save me from the weight of Tessa’s stare.

“What? Why didn’t you say anything before?”

I shrug. “Because I don’t really care. I was thinking about quitting anyway. I’d pretty much done everything I’d set out to do in a year there. Time for greener pastures.”

Tessa shakes her head and takes her dishes to the sink. I prepare for a lecture about how this proves I won’t follow through on what I’m promising now. I feel my shoulders inch up like they’re trying to protect my ears from what they’re about to hear.

To avoid her disapproving look, I get up from the table and rummage in the fridge drawer where Tessa keeps cans of soda and sparkling water. I methodically lift each can, consider it, then replace it in the drawer before moving to the next.

“You’re kind of amazing, Cal. Most people would be scared to death of change, but you always embrace it.”