Chapter 19
CAITLIN
" I 'm really looking forward to meeting Lily," I said, refilling my coffee. "You two seem so close. I feel like I already know her from all your stories."
Blaine looked up from his phone, and something in his expression made me pause.
"About that," he said. "I just got a text. Change of plans."
"She's not coming?"
"Oh, she's coming. But... well, get ready." He set down his phone. "My parents and grandmother decided to join her. They want to see the ranch. Check on things with the Cole situation." He paused. "And meet you."
I nearly dropped my coffee mug. "They're all coming? Your parents AND your grandmother?"
"All of them. Today."
"Blaine, that's... that's a lot of pressure. I was prepared for Lily. I had a plan for Lily."
"You've faced down a breech birth at two in the morning. You can handle my family."
"Horses are easier. They don't judge."
"My family won't judge either." He came around the table and wrapped his arms around me. "They're going to love you. I promise."
I leaned into him, trying to calm my racing heart.
Meeting Lily was one thing — she was Blaine's age, his sister, someone I could imagine becoming friends with.
But his parents? His grandmother — the woman who'd built Sierra Sol alongside her husband, who'd trusted Blaine with their legacy? That was something else entirely.
"When do they arrive?"
"Parents around noon. Lily's picking up Grandma on her way, so they'll be a bit later."
I glanced at the clock. Three hours. I had three hours to prepare myself for the most important meet-the-family moment of my life.
"I need to change," I said.
"You look perfect."
"I look like I just came from the barn. Because I did."
"And they're going to love you anyway." He kissed my forehead. "Trust me."
I wasn't so sure. But I didn't have much choice.
My mind was already racing through logistics. "Okay, wait. Where is everyone going to stay? Lily was going to take the guest cottage, but if your parents are coming too?—"
"We'll figure it out. There are three cottages?—"
"Jake and Tre are in two of them. And Mike's is available, but that's only one. Do we put your parents in the cottage and Lily and your grandmother in the main house? That makes more sense, right? Your grandmother lived here for fifty years — she'd probably want to be in the house."
"Caitlin—"
"And the sheets. When did we last change the sheets in the guest rooms upstairs? I need to check the linen closet. Do we have enough towels? What about food — we need to go to the store. I can't serve your grandmother leftover pizza."
"Caitlin." Blaine took my hands, stilling them. I hadn't realized I'd been gesturing wildly. "Breathe."
I breathed.
"Grandma and Lily can stay in the main house — you're right, Grandma would love that. My parents can take Mike's cottage. Jake already volunteered to handle dinner. And the sheets are fine." He smiled. "We've got this."
"We've got this," I repeated, not entirely convinced.
"Besides, they're not coming to inspect the thread count. They're coming to meet you. And to see that I haven't burned the place down."
"Have you? Burned the place down?"
"Not yet. Though there was that one incident with the toaster?—"
"I don't want to know." I pulled my hands free and headed for the stairs. "I'm going to check the guest rooms. And change. And maybe have a small panic attack in private."
"Take your time," he called after me. "But not too much time. Three hours!"
"Not helping!"
His laughter followed me up the stairs.
Blaine's parents arrived first — a silver SUV pulling up the drive around noon. His father stepped out first: tall, distinguished, with Blaine's same sharp cheekbones and an easy smile. His mother followed — elegant, warm-eyed, already scanning the property with obvious curiosity.
"Mom. Dad." Blaine hugged them both, and I could see the tension leaving his shoulders. Whatever complicated feelings he had about his family, love wasn't one of the complications.
"Look at you," his mother said, holding him at arm's length. "You're tan. And is that muscle? What has this place done to my tech executive?"
"Turned him into a rancher, apparently," his father said. He extended his hand to me. "You must be Caitlin. I'm Richard. This is my wife, Susan."
"It's so nice to meet you both." I shook his hand, then found myself pulled into a hug by Susan.
"We've heard so much about you," she said. "The vet who saved our grandson's prize foal in the middle of the night. And stole his heart in the process."
"Mom," Blaine said, his face reddening.
"What? It's romantic." She winked at me. "He called us the next morning. Couldn't stop talking about 'the vet with the ponytail who put me in my place.'"
I laughed, some of my nervousness melting away. "Someone had to."
"I like her already," Richard said to Blaine. "She's got spine."
A second car appeared at the end of the driveway — Lily's rental. My stomach tightened again. If meeting the parents had gone well, meeting Grandma Mae felt even more important. This was the woman who'd built Sierra Sol alongside her husband. The woman who'd trusted Blaine with their legacy.
Lily parked and hurried around to the passenger side, helping an elderly woman out of the car.
Mae Callahan was small — barely five feet — with white hair pinned back in a simple bun and bright, sharp eyes that missed nothing.
She stood for a moment, looking at the ranch, and I saw her expression shift through a dozen emotions.
"Oh, Earl," she said softly, almost to herself. "Look at what they've done."
Blaine was already moving toward her, and she opened her arms. The hug lasted a long time — grandmother and grandson, holding onto each other and everything that connected them.
"Grandma," Blaine said, his voice rough. "I'm so glad you came."
"Wild horses couldn't have kept me away." She pulled back and looked up at him. "You've done good, honey. I can see it. I can feel it." Her eyes moved past him to the barn, the pastures, the horses grazing in the distance. "Your grandfather would be so proud."
Then her gaze found me, and I felt like I was being X-rayed. Those sharp eyes took in everything — my posture, my expression, the way I stood close to Blaine without quite touching him.
"And you must be Caitlin." She walked toward me, slower but steady, and took both my hands in hers. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "The one who's been taking care of my horses. And my grandson."
"I don't know about taking care of him — "
"I do." Her eyes crinkled. "I've known that boy his whole life. I know what he looks like when he's happy. And I know what he sounds like when he's in love." She squeezed my hands. "Thank you for giving him both."
I didn't know what to say. My throat was tight with unexpected emotion.
"Welcome to the family, honey," Mae said simply. "You belong here. I can tell."
Behind me, Susan made a sound that might have been a sniffle. When I glanced back, she was wiping her eyes and Lily was grinning.
We got everyone settled — Mae and Lily in the main house, Richard and Susan in the guest cottage that Mike usually used. Mae insisted on walking through every room of the house she'd lived in for fifty years, touching familiar surfaces, pausing at photographs.
"You kept Earl's study exactly the same," she said to Blaine, standing in the doorway of the book-lined room.
"I couldn't change it. It still feels like his."
"It's yours now." She patted his cheek. "He'd want you using it. Making it your own." She glanced at me. "Both of you."
When we passed the concrete pad behind the equipment shed during the tour, Lily stopped dead.
"Is that a pickleball court?"
"Tre's contribution to ranch life," Blaine said. "We painted the lines ourselves."
"Oh, we're playing." Lily was already rolling up her sleeves. "Right now. I haven't had a good game since before Bangalore."
"You play?" Susan asked, surprised.
"Play? I dominate." Lily shot a look at her brother. "Remember that tournament in Palo Alto? When I destroyed you in the semifinals?"
"You did not destroy me. I was recovering from a sprained ankle."
"You had a blister."
"A very serious blister."
Jake had already retrieved the paddles from the equipment shed. "Doubles? Lily and Blaine versus me and Tre?"
"Prepare to lose, gentlemen." Lily grabbed a paddle and gave it an experimental swing. "Hartley siblings are undefeated when we team up."
"That's because you cheat," Tre said.
"We strategize. There's a difference."
Someone produced folding chairs, and suddenly we had a proper audience — Richard and Susan on one side, Mae in the middle like a queen on her throne, and me perched on an overturned crate.
Hector even wandered over from the barn, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed, pretending he wasn't interested.
The game started civilized enough. Then Lily scored three points in a row with shots that seemed to defy physics.
"That's my girl!" Richard shouted, pumping his fist.
"Dad, you're supposed to be neutral!" Blaine called out.
"I'm cheering for both of you! Go Blaine!"
"That was very convincing," Lily said dryly.
The volleys got faster, the trash talk louder. Susan was on her feet now, clapping every time anyone scored. Mae was calling out advice — "Watch the backhand, Blaine!" and "Lily, move your feet!" — like she'd been coaching pickleball her whole life.
"Kitchen!" Lily shouted as Tre's foot crossed the line.
"I was behind it!"
"You were not! Grandma, you saw that — was he in the kitchen?"
Mae squinted at the court. "His toe was definitely on the line."
"The line is out!" Tre protested.
"The line is in," Jake said. "I looked it up. Sorry, man."
"Betrayed by my own teammate."
The game went to Lily and Blaine, 11-8. Then 11-6. By the third game, Richard had switched allegiances and was openly coaching Jake and Tre, Susan was keeping score on her phone, and Mae was providing color commentary to no one in particular.