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“These are your talking points for the interview,” she said as I began scanning the page. “You’ll be interviewing with Laney Franklin on her segment, Dallas Daze. Today is all about new businesses coming to Dallas in the coming year. You’ll be talking about the hotel and how families will be able to enjoy it next Christmas.”

I nodded, memorizing the talking points, although I hardly needed them. I knew this project inside and out.

After a few minutes, Mia passed me her tablet. “This is from finance. They need your sign off on the PO for the new flooring and install. It’s scheduled to start next week.”

I glanced at the page, my eyes widening at the number. “How did she get them to start so soon without a rush fee?”

Mia smirked. “That’s Farrah. She’s the best.”

“Thank you for that tip on her, by the way,” I said. I never would have taken a second glance at her resume with her massive gap in employment, but Mia’s glowing review had changed my mind enough to call her in for an interview. When I spoke with her professor, saw her inspiration boards, the desire for the job in her eyes, I knew she would do whatever it took to get this done and do it well.

“Of course.” Mia’s phone pinged, and she looked down at it, typing back a text. I’d had assistants before, but Mia was by far the best. She and I didn’t talk much about our personal lives, but she knew more about me and this company than anyone else.

She knew I didn’t take calls from my parents—my mother, really, because Dad would never call.

She knew I had a professional hair stylist come to the office twice a month. A doctor twice a year because I’d rather do bloodwork here than sit in a waiting room. She knew I preferred beef to chicken, that eggs were never to be served cold, and that, unlike my brother Tyler, I took my coffee with plenty of cream.

She knew I stayed in the office until nine most nights.

And that I had no time for a life outside of this business.

And sometimes I worried that she knew too much, especially earlier today when she gave me a knowing smile as she and the movers carried in things for Andrew and Cora.

But that didn’t stop me from opening my mouth because she also had knowledge in spades about this woman who intrigued me.

“So, Auntie Mia,” I said.

A small smile grew on Mia’s lips, and she glanced at me over her clear-framed glasses. “Yes, Mr. Grumpy Pants?”

“I guess I didn’t realize you and Ms. Elkins were quite so close.”

“We’re more than friends. We’re like sisters,” Mia admitted. “In fact, I’m going to watch her oldest’s ball game on Saturday.”

“What kind of ball?” I asked, actually intrigued. I kept season tickets to all the professional teams nearby. When I was younger, I played every sport Cottonwood Falls High School had to offer, which admittedly wasn’t that many.

“Baseball?” She said it like she wasn’t quite sure. “I was told there would be a concession stand.”

“Ballpark popcorn is the best. Enjoy,” I said as we pulled up to the Headline Building. The car stopped out front, and the driver let Mia out.

Before getting out, I sent a text to my siblings group chat.

Gage: Want to hit some balls at Cottonwood Field this weekend?

Rhett was the first to reply.

Rhett: Only if they’re yours.

* * *

The sun was still comingup when I reached the city limits of Cottonwood Falls, having left Dallas at four the next morning to make it here on time. The high school games started at noon, so my siblings and I would get an early start and have some lunch before I headed back home.

I took a sip of coffee as I drove past my old high school. Back then, I’d been a headstrong kid, bent on making the family ranch work for all of us. Now? The closest I got to a cow was if my nutritionist and personal chef included filet mignon on my plate.

My chest tightened like it always did when I got closer to the place I used to call home, but I gritted my teeth and barreled through the feeling. The past needed to stay in the past. We all had different lives now.

The new baseball field appeared in my windshield, just a couple blocks from the high school. I pulled into the gravel lot, seeing Rhett’s truck there, dust thicker toward the bottom of the exterior and thinning as it went up.

Exhaust billowed up from his tailpipe, and the taillights shined red through a sheen of dust.