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“I can’t believe you brought me all the way out here to drink your disgusting coffee and then dump me.” She groans, grabbing the aforementioned coffee, opening the door, and tossing the black liquid onto the ground. “We could’ve had this conversation back at the ranch.” Hattie slides out of the pickup, slamming the door behind her.

I take a deep breath, following her out of the vehicle. “You can’t walk all the way back to Whispering Pines.”

“Watch me!” she yells back.

Glancing up at the sky, I say, “you’re going the wrong direction.”

I don’t bother to mention it’ll take hours for her to walk back to the ranch.

“I’ll figure it out.” The woman continues her stride even though she hasn’t a clue where she’s going.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Hattie. I’m just trying to do what’s best for everyone.”

She whirls around to face me, her red hair blowing in the breeze. “Lincoln, something I admire about you is how you take care of everyone around you. But thinking you know what’s best and that you’re right about everything isn’t admirable. That’s just your ego talking.”

My head snaps back like she slapped me, her jarring statement hitting like a physical blow. I’ve never paired my urge to care for others with pride. But the tightness in my chest tells me she might have a point.

“I didn’t only bring coffee, I brought you a cinnamon roll, too,” are the dumbass words that come out of my mouth. I don’t know why, probably because I don’t know what else to say.

Her shoulders sag like she wanted me to say something different, like she wanted me to change my mind. She holds my gaze as a tear streams down her face.

“Hattie,” I say softly, stepping toward her.

“No,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “Don’t look at me like that, with your eyes all twinkly and warm.” She sniffs.

I’d do just about anything to erase this conversation, to start over and do it better. I’d do anything to take her hurt away.

“You’re going to drive me back to the ranch,” she says, striding back toward the pickup and swinging the passenger door open. She turns back to look at me before getting inside. “And I want my fucking cinnamon roll.”

“I’m sorry, Hattie. I’m so damn sorry.”

She shakes her head, her nostrils flaring. “Don’t say another word to me.”

Hattie slides onto the seat and shuts the door in my face.

CHAPTER 34

Hattie

After an emotional goodbye with Hank and Otto, I board my plane with Blair by my side.

It’s strange how flying back to California is more nerve-wracking than the flight here. I know my altercation with Lincoln added a heaviness to the entire situation, but it’s not only that.

I’m not looking forward to being back in California or seeing my mother. I’m not comforted by the thought of relaxing in my quiet, well-coiffed house with full amenities. I’m not even excited to drive my Land Rover instead of Hank’s pickup that smells faintly of straw and horse feed.

When we land, Blair drives me home. Both of us are quiet, but I don’t have the energy to ask if she’s okay or if she’s just giving me space to think.

She hugs me tight before pulling out of my driveway and leaving me all alone. I stand in front of my door for a full minute before opening it, nothing but dread rolling over me at the idea of being back.

Oakley is the only part of coming home I’m looking forward to. I missed my girl.

Opening the door, I step inside, and my stomach plummets. My mother stands in my kitchen; her arms crossed like she’s been here waiting for days.

Wordlessly, I roll my luggage inside and close the door behind me. Only after removing my boots and trench coat do I acknowledge the woman standing in my kitchen. “Why are you here, Mother?”

“Had to make sure you actually came home,” she answers. “You’ve missed three weeks of training, Harriet. Three weeks.”

I level her with a cold stare. “No, what I missed was twenty-five years with my dad.”