Chapter 23
I might have messed up
Finn
The rest of the day passed without drama.
Dinner at the restaurant with the family—Belle chattering about her riding classes while Jack argued with Lucas over who got the last dinner roll.
I found myself checking my phone less, letting my family’s energy wash over me instead of analyzing every silent notification.
By eight-thirty, exhaustion pulled at my shoulders like lead weights.
The combination of physical work, emotional processing, and family had drained whatever reserves I’d started the day with.
I excused myself early, citing fatigue and collapsed onto the pullout sofa by nine o’clock while everyone chatted on the porch.
Sleep came easier than it had in months.
I woke before dawn again, dressed, grabbed some trail mix from the pantry, filled my travel mug with coffee, and walked out to the truck with Maggie.
I loaded up with tools to clear the underbrush growth around the trees that were on our property.
I’d made a decent dent by eight, returning to the house to join my family for a late breakfast.
My baby sister, Claire, had arrived while I was out—having driven with her two-year-old, Sarah, through the night from Denver.
She sat at the counter with a giant mug of coffee, filling everyone in on the rodeo circuit and her partner, Sawyer’s, latest competition results.
Sarah took everything in from her grandpa’s lap with wide eyes.
“Finn!” Claire spotted me and launched all five-foot-two of herself in my direction. “Look at you, all healthy and handsome! Dom said you’ve been hidin’ a girlfriend from us.”
“Not hidin’,” I accepted her hug. “Just being selective about information sharing.”
“Smart man. Family can be a lot,” she grinned and sat back onto her stool. “So, when do we get to meet her properly?”
“September,” Dom appeared with his own coffee. “Wedding week. Can’t escape us then.”
The certainty in his voice made my heart feel like cement.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” Mom held a plate of eggs, bacon, and thick toast made from homemade bread in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “Why you insist on running off without eating first I’ll never know.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I kissed her cheek and did as I was told—digging into the best breakfast I’d eaten in ages.
After breakfast, I headed back out to clear more underbrush, taking Belle, Jack, and Lucas with me at their mom’s behest. She thought they could burn off the energy and build some character. I set them to work throwing dead branches and bushes on the burn pile.
By early afternoon they were dragging—admittedly I was too.
Worried about pushing us all too hard, I helped them put out the fire before driving us all back to the house.
I showered, changed, and wandered into the kitchen to find Elowyn and Claire making lunch.
The kids were already devouring their sandwiches and apple slices.
My phone vibrated and I nearly dropped it pulling it out of my pocket.
Alex. Finally.
Alex: sry. been busy.
Alex: I think I’ve got to fire Jordan.
Me: Whats going on
Three dots appeared immediately, then disappeared. Then appeared again. I chewed on my lip, waiting.
Alex: don’t worry about it. enjoy family time.
Three dots appeared immediately, then disappeared. Then appeared again. I chewed on my lip, waiting.
I dug my finger and thumb in the corners of my eyes and sighed. So that’s how it was. No more filling me in on what was happening in her life. Definitely on our way to “fake” break-up territory.
“Who are you texting?” Belle asked around a large bite of fruit.
“Alex,” I pocketed my phone.
“Is she pretty?” Lucas asked, biting into the second half of his sandwich.
“Very,” I leaned against the counter, picking up an apple and the paring knife—needing something to do with my hands.
“Prettier than Lou?” Jack added, earning a sharp look from his mom.
“Jackson Montgomery,” she warned.
I thought for a moment, carefully cutting and eating crooked slices out of the apple.
Lou was family in all the ways that mattered—she’d grown up here, worked here, her daughter practically lived here when she wasn’t in school.
Rodeo queen and gregarious to boot. But she was also the woman I’d left behind when I joined the Navy, the one who’d been dropping hints about picking up where we left off ever since my discharge—until I’d mentioned Alex.
“Different kind of pretty,” I said carefully.
“Lou’s beautiful. Alex is...” I paused, searching for words that wouldn’t sound like I was comparing.
“Alex is brilliant. Inspiring. Her energy fills any room she enters. She lights up when she talks about something she’s passionate about.
And she’s funny. Sharp, quick wit that keeps you on your toes. ”
“Sounds like she’s got you wrapped around her finger,” Claire observed, amusement laced in her voice.
“Maybe she does,” I admitted, surprised by how the words came so easy despite the current uncertainty.
Dad appeared from his office with a folder thicker than the Porterhouse ribeye I’d barely made a dent in the night before. “Hey all, we’re fixin’ to start the family meeting in about five. Kids, I think Hank could use some help mucking out stables.”
“But we just got back!” Lucas slumped in his chair.
“Get movin’,” Elowyn shooed them up. “You knew the rule was you’d do extra chores today to make up for driving that golf kart into the ditch.”
I huffed a laugh as she continued, “I swear y’all take after your uncles.”
We all gathered around dining table—Dad’s stack of papers spread across the surface. Legal documents, business records, succession planning materials representing four generations of faithful stewardship of this land.
“This isn’t about immediate changes,” he sat down at the head of the table, “but with Dom and Enzo’s wedding coming up, your mother and I figured it was time to make things more official. Put everything in writing so there’s no confusion down the road.”
Mom sat beside him, her expression shifting between pride and nostalgia. “We’re proud of all of you,” she smiled, her voice wavering only slightly. “Every choice you’ve made, every path you’ve chosen. This is just about making sure the ranch continues the way it should.”
Her words were a punch in my gut—proud of every choice. Every path. Even the ones that had led me away from this place and into a medical discharge and rapidly deteriorating future.
“Elowyn and Luke,” Dad began, “you’ve made it clear you want to continue caring for the ranch in the future. The plan is to transfer primary ownership to you over the next five years, with your mother and me retaining advisory roles and residence rights.”
Elowyn nodded, Luke’s hand finding hers on the table. “We’ve talked about it extensively. The lodge expansion, restaurant growth, bringing in sustainable practices. We’ve got plans.”
“Good plans,” Dad confirmed before turning to my other sister. “Claire, you and Sawyer will maintain your stake in the operation, but with the understanding that geography makes day-to-day involvement impractical.”
“Works for me,” Claire responded. “I love this place, but my life’s on the road until Sawyer’s done ridin’. As long as I can come home when I need to, I’m happy.”
“Dominik,” Dad’s attention shifted to my brother. “You’ve built an incredible career in Los Angeles. We’re not expecting you to abandon that, but we want to make sure you maintain connection to your heritage.”
Dom straightened slightly. “I don’t want to take anything away from El and Luke. They’re the ones doing the actual work.”
“Which is why your stake will be structured differently,” Mom responded. “Financial investment rather than operational control. A way to stay connected without obligations you can’t fulfill.”
“I can live with that,” Dom smiled.
Then all eyes turned to me.
“Finnegan,” Dad’s voice was carefully neutral. “Your situation is more complicated.”
More complicated—that was one way to put it.
“Before your accident you were pretty clear about wantin’ to get out of here, build something outside the ranch. That was the right choice for you then. But circumstances change. People change. If you want a role in ranch operations now, there’s a place for you.”
I stared at the papers in front of me—detailed plans for a future that had been mapped out while I was learning to walk again without stumbling, judging distance by shadows, fighting a war with my brain—while I was only beginning to discover all the ways my body had decided to betray me.
“And if I don’t?” I swallowed.
“Then you don’t,” Mom said simply. “You can have a stake like Dom’s. Finn, we want you to be happy. Whatever that looks like.”
The unconditional acceptance in her voice made my throat tight. They were offering me a safety net, a place to land—a future that didn’t require me to prove my worth through skills I didn’t have anymore.
But it was also the safe choice. The protected choice. The choice that said I didn’t need to build something for myself—I’d know what the next forty or fifty years looked like.
Suffocating. But safe.
“I need to think on it,” I responded finally.
“Of course you do,” Dad replied. “No rush. Take all the time you need.”
He moved through the legal specifics for all of us—trust structures, financial arrangements, tax implications. Exhaustive plans that had kept the ranch profitable for over a century. I participated where needed, signed documents that kept my options open, but my mind kept drifting to Alex.
Alex, who’d built something from nothing—taken risks and made it work through her talent, sheer determination, and stubbornness.
Who brushed aside every expectation in deference to the life she wanted.
Who’d never had the luxury of a family safety net or the option to retreat when things got complicated.