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“Might I make a suggestion, Mr. Keagan?”

“Of course, sir.”

“If you are to take over this farm, you will need to be capable of handling more than just the day-to-day work. You will have to make decisions you might not always like. Running this place requires you to have a clear head and an eye for the future.”

“I feel I possess those qualities.”

“I feel the same.”

Relief pooled within him. The awkward conversation would soon come to an end and then Mason could get back to Harley with the good news.

“Unfortunately…” Abrams continued, “I don’t believe my niece is good for you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Harriet is many things, son, but a farmer isn’t one of them. I’ve run this place since the very beginning. Once upon a time, I thought I’d found a woman to share my life with, but I was wrong.”

An argument clung to his tongue, but Mason held back. The last thing he wanted was to alienate his benefactor.

“I care for my niece. I want to make that clear. But I don’t think she’s suited for this lifestyle. As much as I would love to see her choose another path, I simply can’t see her doing so. At the end of the summer, she will chase after that money her mother dangles over her head like the carrot it is. She will leave this place—and you—behind once and for all.”

Mason’s jaw tightened. While Abrams could be right, he was choosing not to believe it. They’d made a connection last night, and he intended on tending to that connection until it grew into something more. “Are you requesting that I no longer spend time with your niece in a dating capacity?” There was an edge to his voice he wasn’t able to contain, and even in that moment, he regretted asking the question.

“No. However, I will make one suggestion if you’re interested.”

Mason nodded sharply.

“Choose what path is most important. Risks should be calculated and weighed. Look at your choices from every angle before you settle for what you think you might want.”

“And if I want more than one thing?”

Abrams returned his glasses to his face and picked up the newspaper. He didn’t lift his gaze to Mason after that, choosing only to make a final statement. “To that, I say good luck, Mr. Keagan.”

22

Harley

“What did he say?” Harley demanded the second Mason exited her uncle’s bedroom. “Did you get fired? Was he mad?” She followed a morose-looking cowboy down the hall toward the kitchen. When he didn’t respond, she reached out and took his hand, forcing him to stop. “Mason, what did my uncle say to you?”

She couldn’t get a read on him. Mason wouldn’t meet her gaze. His features could have been carved from stone for as much as they gave away.

Harley squeezed his hand. “Please tell me what happened. He’s not going to make you leave, is he? If he fired you, I’ll go right in there and—”

“I’m not fired,” Mason said. “He just gave me a lot to think about.”

“So everything is okay?”

He nodded, though he was less than convincing.

Harley swallowed hard, her eyes dipping to where she clasped his hand tight. “We’re okay?” she whispered. She hated this feeling—being so vulnerable in front of him. She’d worked so hard at creating an impenetrable shell that kept her feelings in check. She didn’t like showing others that they could hurt her. This thing that had started between them felt so raw, like it could combust at any given moment and leave her shattered. While she didn’t think Mason was capable of doing her wrong, she had to remind herself that she didn’t know him nearly well enough to guarantee such a thing.

Mason hooked his finger beneath her chin, lifting her gaze gently to meet his eyes. “As far as I’m concerned, everything between us is perfect.”

She wanted to believe him. Deep down, where her stomach swirled with excitement and something she couldn’t describe, she wanted to pretend that everything was perfect. Unfortunately, she’d been hurt too many times to ever accept that.

Mason might think everything was perfect, but something was off, and he was hiding something from her.

He gave her a quick kiss and then withdrew, leaving her cold and longing for the connection they’d shared last night. Mason slowed as he reached the kitchen door. “Let’s get some late breakfast and then head out to get our work done. I’ll have to leave for a few hours to help out my brothers, and when I come back, we can do something together. Sound good?”