A loud bang echoes from downstairs, followed by Harper’s exaggerated “Oops!” and Emmy’s delighted giggle.
Cash groans and flops onto his back. “Sounds like breakfast is gonna be interesting.”
I laugh and pull the sheet up over my chest. “You think they’ll let us have coffee first, or are we diving straight into chaos?”
He grins and tosses the sheet off, pulling on his jeans and shirt. “Let’s find out.”
By the time we make it to the kitchen, Harper’s juggling a skillet and Emmy’s covered in flour, her hair sticking up in wild tufts. The table’s half set, a mountain of scrambled eggs and pancakes already stacked high in the middle.
“Look who finally decided to wake up,” Harper teases, giving us both a knowing look. Then her eyes narrow, flicking between me and Cash, and she sets the skillet down with a clatter. “Wait a second, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Austin overnight for the meeting!” Emmy runs over and gives me the best hug,
I open my mouth to answer, but she’s already crossing the kitchen, hands on her hips and eyes wide with curiosity. “Don’t tell me you ghosted your dream job for a cowboy and pancakes.”
Cash chuckles behind me while I lift a shoulder, trying to hide the grin tugging at my lips. “Something like that.”
Harper lets out a delighted squeal and wraps me in a quick, tight hug. For a second, she doesn’t let go, her arms linger like she’s trying to process the shift in me, like she feels the weight of the moment. Emmy is squealing behind us, "we get to stay here with the horsy's."
When she pulls back, her smile wobbles just a little, her eyes glistening with something deeper than surprise. “Oh my god, you have to tell me everything, right after we eat.”
I glance around the kitchen, the sunlight streaming in, the smell of maple syrup and bacon, Harper’s laughter mixing with Emmy’s chatter, and feel something bloom in my chest. Contentment. Belonging.
We sit down together, the four of us squeezed around the table with mismatched mugs and plates, and it hits me all at once.
This is what family feels like.
Not just the waking-up-wrapped-in-his-arms kind of love.
But the messy, loud, perfectly imperfect kind that fills a house with joy.
And I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
After we finish eating and clear the dishes, Harper wastes no time pulling me onto the porch with a cup of coffee in hand. She gives me a look that says, 'Start talking.'
I take a long sip, letting the breeze cool my flushed cheeks, and then launch in. “The interview was, incredible. Fancy office, city view, a team of people who already knew everything about me from a file. They offered me the job on the spot.”
Harper’s eyebrows lift. “And you said no?”
“I said I needed to think,” I reply. “But the whole time I was there, something felt wrong. Cold. Like the air conditioning was too high and no one smiled unless it was rehearsed. It didn’t feel like home.”
She leans back, watching me closely. “So what did it for you?”
I glance through the window where I can see Emmy and Cash sitting at the table, heads close together as they color in one of her books. “Them. You. This place. The sound of horses in the morning and the feel of dirt under my boots.”
I tell her everything, how I walked out of the building, heels clicking on the marble lobby floor like they didn’t belong to me anymore, and called Mason from a park bench under a sycamore tree.
He practically cheered when I told him I was staying. Said he’d start prepping the paperwork to transfer everything officially into my name.
I explain how Cash and I had gotten up and stayed up half the night at the kitchen table, scribbling ideas on the back of feed receipts and napkins. We were too excited to sleep. What we want for Painted Sky’s future is more than just a business plan, it’s a vision. A promise.
“No cabins,” I say with a grin. “We’re turning it into a full-service horse training and boarding facility, something rooted in heart, not just profit. I want to work with rescues, bring in horses that have been cast aside and give them purpose again.
Maybe even partner with a couple of local shelters and start a rehabilitation program. I used to dream of having my own training arena when I was younger. Now I want it to be a place where horses and people both find healing.”
“Cash wants to bring in youth programs too, give local kids a place to learn more than just how to ride. He wants them to understand trust, patience, responsibility. We’ll have mentorships, volunteer days, and summer riding camps. We’re going to build a couple of stables with natural lighting and open stalls, add some new fencing that’ll stretch across the east side, and turn the north pasture into a proper training pen with soft footing and a covered shade area.”
Harper’s jaw drops. “That’s amazing. Like, seriously amazing.”
I nod, feeling the excitement build in my chest all over again. “We want it to be more than a business. Alegacy. Something Emmy can grow up around. Something real. Something for Emmy's future.”
