Elia hobbled out from the house, his moon boot still strapped to his left leg. Injury or not, I could tell he was working harder than he should be. The man wasn’t built to take it easy.
That was his problem, not mine. I was stepping in. I’d take over most of the stubborn load, whether he liked it or not.
Before I could get a word out, he wrapped an arm around me in a firm, back-thumping hug. “Welcome home, brother.”
I gave him a quick squeeze, then stepped back. “Only took a corporate breakdown, two exes, and a pair of boots I don’t know how to walk in.”
“Checks out,” he shot back, giving me a once-over. “You look like city life finally chewed you up and spit you back out.”
I smirked. “And you look like a cowboy on his last leg. Oh, wait—” I squinted at the moon boot. “That’s actually true.”
“Hey, one leg or no leg, I’d still outranch your ass,” he shot back, then tipped his chin toward the setup. “So? What do you think?”
I let out a low whistle. “Would you look at that? The Lazy Moose hosts weddings now. Gotta say, I love it.”
“Well, we’re still pushing cows the same as always. We’re just putting some of the extra space to work,” Elia said.
“Smart move,” I said. “Diversify the portfolio. What’s next? Goat yoga?”
Elia snorted. “Don’t say that to Claire. She’ll start handing out mats and signing up the whole town.”
The farm needed the extra income. Elia, my big brother, the one carrying the weight of the Lucas family legacy, hadn’t sugarcoated the struggles. Ranching was never easy, but thisyear had been brutal. And now, with an injury and a baby in the mix?
Good thing his wife, Claire, was smart like that. Always thinking ahead.
“So, you finally got sick of running your media empire in Utah?” Elia asked.
I let out a breath. Since leaving home, I’d been it all—data-entry grunt, call center slave, stock market gambler, and eventually, media wrangler.
“Something like that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Worked a hundred hours a week, no holidays. Then I sold it.”
Elia eyed me for a second. “Appreciate you coming back. I really needed your help.”
“Hey, we’re brothers,” I said simply. “I hadn’t been—”here enough.
Elia didn’t let me finish. He simply patted my shoulder, his voice quieter now when he said, “You’re here. That’s what matters.”
He knew why I’d stayed away.
And he knew better than to ask.
Elia grabbed one of my bags while I hauled the other over my shoulder, following him inside. The house smelled buttery, maybe from whatever Claire had baked earlier.
Before we even made it to the door, a blur of black and white fur shot across the yard.
“Koda, chill,” Elia said, but the dog wasn’t listening.
The border collie launched himself at me like I was the prodigal son who had come home, his tail whipping so hard that it sent his whole body into a wiggle. He’d been here forever, or close to it. Twelve years now, at least.
“Well, I guess someone missed me.” I crouched, ruffling his fur as he let out an excited yip. “I don’t remember you being this needy.”
Elia scoffed. “He’s got a soft spot for the ones who leave.”
I gave Koda one last pat before stepping inside.
Claire stood at the counter in her floral workshop, her hands moving deftly as she arranged blooms in a wide glass vase.Stunning, bold-colored flowers.My sister-in-law had an eye for it, even though she was deep into her veterinarian studies. Somehow, she still found time to put together arrangements that looked straight out of a wedding magazine.
And she was doing all of it with a baby strapped to her chest and a rescue husky pressed close. Damn impressive.
