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“They are freaking adorable,” I groan, stroking one of the new baby chicks that’s perched on my lap while another nuzzles into my side. Their tiny peeps and soft feathers are a dangerous combination. At this rate, I might never leave the facility.

My big brother Cash grins down at me, arms crossed as he watches. “I know. Never gets old. I’ve been around them for over three decades, and I’ll never get tired of chick season.”

The door to the hatchery swings open, and Rae strides in wearing a sleek black suit dress, her chestnut-brown hair piled into a tight bun on top of her head.

“Wow, you look fancy,” I say, taking in the contrast between her polished look and the chaos of the hatchery during chick season.

She grins. “Mayor duties. Easter parade planning meeting this afternoon.” Without hesitation, she drops to the ground beside me, completely unbothered by the tiny chicks that immediately start crawling all over her outfit. “How long have you two been here?”

Cash rubs his tired eyes. “All night. Think I finally got them settled, and we won’t lose any more.”

“I got here at five this morning,” I add, scratching the top of a tiny head before carefully placing the chick back into its warm new home. “Need to check on the restaurant for the lunch rush, but after that I’ll be back. I think I’d rather spend my whole day snuggling these babies.”

I lift another one to my cheek and nuzzle it close. The sound of the older hens clucking and scratching in the facility surrounds me, wrapping me in a familiar comfort.

I love the egg farm. When Colt was in prison, Cash moved over to run the distillery for him, and I stepped in to manage the egg farm solo after I got my mind around his sentence.

It was a crash course in everything—feeding the hens, overseeing the employees, making sure our eggs were collected, packed, and shipped out to retailers for the production side of things all while continuing to manage our social media channels.

I built our brand up online which really helped things take off to a completely new demographic, but it also meant more work.

It was a lot, but I thrived on it, and it kept me distracted during those hard, four years he was away.

Then Colt came back last spring, and I found myself floating again, bouncing between all the family businesses, searching for my next challenge and dreaming of the future.

I thought that would be the family wedding business, but… well. Here we are.

I push to my feet, brushing dust off my jeans as I pull out my phone to check the time. As soon as I do, a call from Molly flashes across the screen.

“Hey, Molly,” I greet her instantly.

Her voice is soft and guarded as she answers. “Hey, Regan, I have some bad news…”

My stomach twists. “What’s going on? Is the baby okay?”

“Yes, we’re fine. But I got a call for a well-visit for Mrs. Mayberry out at her property this morning.

A guy was coming by to look at some furniture she’s selling but when he got there, no one answered the door.

When the units arrived…” Molly hesitates, then exhales.

“We found her passed away peacefully in her office downstairs.”

“No,” I whisper, my breath catching as tears burn my eyes. “No. That can’t be. I just saw her.”

There’s silence on the other end, like she’s giving me space to process before she finally says, “I’m so sorry.

I know you loved her, and she loved you.

I wanted you to hear it from me first. You know she doesn’t have any family here and well I thought…

well, I thought you and the rest of our family might want to arrange something.

A service, maybe. I can help you with anything you need. ”

I clutch my chest, my vision blurring. Cash and Rae are beside me in an instant, standing close, waiting.

“Yes,” I choke out, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yes, I’ll come down and see her right now. Say goodbye. Take care of everything. We can give her the proper celebration that she deserves.”

“Thanks, sis. I love you. See you tonight.”

“Love you too.”

I hang up and sigh, swiping away the single tear that escapes down my cheek.

Mrs. Mayberry was like a mother to me my whole life.

A steady, kind presence in a life full of chaos and a home full of brothers who never quite understood the need for a feminine ear.

She listened when I needed her, loved me like I was her own, and never once made me feel like I was burdening her with my endless ramblings.

I owe her. I owe her for every moment she spent making me feel safe, for every piece of advice she whispered while braiding my hair, for every second she was there.

Despite what happens to the Manor now, I intend on celebrating her life the way she deserves.

Knowing she passed peacefully, after a long, full life, brings some comfort, but it doesn’t touch the ache in my chest where she’ll always be missed.

“I’m going to plan the best funeral for her,” I whisper, voice thick as Rae and Cash pull me into a hug. “The one she deserved.”

***

Four days later…

“Thank you for coming today.” I offer a soft smile as I shake hands with yet another guest who’s attended Mrs. Mayberry’s funeral, held right here on her property down by the pond, near the old wooden swing where I used to sit while she’d push me and listen to me ramble on about nothing.

It’s a beautiful, late spring day. The sun’s warm in the sky and the land is blooming with pink purple and lush greens.

The turnout is incredible, though it’s no surprise.

Everyone in town loved her and knew her.

She had a hand in everything. Church bulletin stuffing, fundraiser planning, the State Fair committee and her uncanny ability to involve herself in just about everyone’s business made her a true cornerstone in our town.

From somewhere behind me, I hear hushed voices whispering. “What’s going to happen to her home?”

I close my eyes briefly, sighing because I don’t know the answer to that question.

To my knowledge, she’d refused every offer made on the property, and with the clause in her deed, it’ll likely go to the state or get tangled up in probate for years.

The thought is devastating—her and Mr. Mayberry’s dream of turning this place into a wedding venue will never happen and even worse, all the memories that I hold so dear to my heart here will be gone along with her.

“Thank you for coming today.” I offer another smile as I shake hands with an older couple I recognize from the State Fair committee.

“Oh, Regan, we know how much she loved you, dear,” the woman says gently.

I swallow hard, forcing back the lump in my throat. “I was the one who was blessed to know her.”

They nod kindly before drifting toward the gravesite which is a simple patch of freshly turned earth beside the pond, waiting for the tombstone I had custom made for her to be delivered.

It felt right to have her laid to rest here next to her husband.

No matter who ends up owning this land, I hope they respect their resting place.

A movement catches my eye, and I glance up to see Hayes walking toward me.

His face is drawn, exhaustion settling deep into the lines around his eyes, but he still looks so handsome in those navy blue scrubs.

And apparently, I’m not the only one who notices that.

Practically every person gathered at the Mayberry home turns to watch him as he moves across the lawn, a few even whisper and point like he’s a local celebrity.

“Hi,” he says, voice soft as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“Hi,” I murmur. “Thank you for coming today.”

He nods. “I know I didn’t know her well, but she was a spitfire. A kind woman. One I really enjoyed getting to know briefly.” His gaze flickers over my face, seeing straight through my attempt at composure. “And I know she loved you. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

I force a smile. “Thank you.”

He hesitates before offering, “I just got off shift… I can stay. Wait until everyone leaves, if you don’t want to be alone and want someone here for you.”

I glance around. Most people have moved away from the gravesite now.

Molly, Lydia, and Rae are lingering by the swing, chatting quietly.

Cash is already back at the hatchery, tending to the new chicks, and Colt’s likely buried in work at the distillery.

Lawson’s still on the west coast, couldn’t make it home for the funeral, and my dad has already come and said his goodbyes.

“You really don’t have to do that,” I say, even though the idea of not being alone is more appealing than I want to admit.

He shrugs. “I’d like to. Maybe you can tell me more about her.”

I wipe at another stray tear, nodding. “I’d like that.”

A throat clears behind us causing Hayes and I to turn and find an older woman standing there, salt-and-pepper hair tucked neatly beneath a dark black hat.

“Excuse me. Are you Regan Marshall?”

I straighten instinctively, smoothing down my dress. “Yes?”

She offers a polite smile. “I’m Betsy Green. Mrs. Mayberry’s realtor.”

“Oh, hi, Betsy. I knew you looked familiar. I’ve seen your face on the billboards around town.”

She smiles and shifts her attention briefly to Hayes. “And hello, Mr. Walker. Good to see you again.”

He nods to her in greeting before she exhales deeply. “I’m glad I caught you both before you left today.”

I glance between her and Hayes, a creeping sense of unease settling over me.

“Oh?”

She hesitates, then meets my gaze.

“As you’re aware… Mrs. Mayberry never officially completed the sale of the farm.”

“Yes…”

“But what she likely didn’t disclose to you two is that she accepted both of your offers right before she passed away—with a contingency.”

I blink. “I’m sorry, what? What does that mean?”