“I gotta go.”
“What about breakfast?” Grandma asks.
“I don’t have time.”
Her face immediately tightens. “Harleigh Storm, you’re not going to start your first day of work on an empty stomach.”
“I’ll grab something later—”
“No,” she says, using that tone. The one we know better than to argue with. She’s already standing. Moving to the kitchen with determination.
“Grandma—”
“Come.”
I follow.
Because arguing with Evelyn Storm is like arguing with a fence post. It’s futile.
She moves quickly around the place. A bagel goes into the toaster, which she quickly loads with bacon and eggs from the pans resting on the stove.
“You young people,” she mutters. “Always running off in a hurry without any food in your belly.”
She wraps the breakfast sandwich in aluminum foil and hands it to me. “For the road.”
My stomach rumbles as I take it.
She raises an eyebrow.
“You’re the best,” I say, kissing her cheek. “I’ll set my alarm a half hour earlier tomorrow.”
“Have a good day,” she says, satisfied. “Drive safe!”
“I will!” I call as I grab my keys and head for the door.
“And, Harleigh?”
I turn back to see her standing in the mudroom.
Her expression softens. “We’re proud of you.”
My chest tightens. “Thanks, Grandma.”
Then I step outside into the crisp mountain morning.
The Belicourt Resort Hotel sits about thirty minutes from the ranch, tucked high in the Tetons, like something out of a postcard.
The drive out of town is one I’ve made hundreds of times.
But today, it feels different.
Important.
My car climbs the winding road as the sun rises higher over the mountains. Pine forests stretch along the slopes, with patches of color peeking through as the foliage begins to change with the fall weather.
Halfway there, I unwrap the bagel.
It’s amazing.
