Page 22 of SEAL of Valor

“Sugar?” A soft knock on the door has me jumping to my feet and turning on the water.

“Be out in just a second!” I call out in a happy voice faker than a plastic doll. I splash some water on my face and stare at my reflection.

Lord, please grant me strength.

After a few moments, I step out of the bathroom. My mom is in the kitchen, warming up the coffee I brought back in the microwave.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, Sugar!” My mom smiles, and her eyes mist as she crosses over to give me a big hug. “How was the drive?”

“Not bad. I went to see Pastor Reeves.”

“Which is why Aragorn was here when I got home and you were not.” She reaches down and pats his head, and he stares up at her with love in his eyes. For holidays, my mom has been insisting on visiting me in Charleston. She claimed to have hired a temporary hand to watch the ranch.

But now I know that wasn’t entirely true.

Now I know why she insisted on coming to me rather than letting me come home.

Fresh anger surges past the joy at seeing my mom again, and I cross my arms. “Did you happen to forget to mention something to me?”

“What’s that?” The microwave beeps, so she rushes back into the kitchen and removes her paper cup. After giving it a quick stir, she takes a drink. “So good. Thank you for getting this. Anastasia’s lavender lattes are my favorite.”

“Seriously? You didn’t think to mention that Weston was back in town and working here?” Communication was never a strength in the Faye household, but this goes beyond even that.

This feels an awful lot like betrayal.

The woman is the picture of innocence as she stands there staring at me. “Did I not tell you?”

“No,” I reply. “You absolutely did not.”

“Are you sure?” She takes another drink of her coffee, and for a moment, I worry I’m getting a glimpse at possible memory loss. But then she lowers the cup, a guilty smile on her face. “Okay, in my defense, he did technically live and work here when you moved away.”

“Um, fine. But he didn’t stay. You said that he went into the Navy.”

“Sure, but he was still here a month or so after you left for Charleston.”

“You do not get out of this on a technicality, Mom. How long has he been here?”

She puts the cup back up to her lips and takes a drink. Then mumbles, “Seven years,” under her breath.

“Seven years!” I screech. “Are you kidding me?” I turn away, feeling the need to get air but also afraid I’ll go outside, and there he’ll be. Ready to turn my world upside down all over again.

“Sugar, I am so sorry. I’ve needed him, though. He’s the only reason this place is still running. In more ways than one.”

I can’t even dig into that last comment. Not now. “Then maybe it’s time to sell it,” I snap.

“Reese.”

I turn toward my mom. “What? I get here, and you’re passed out on the couch, clearly exhausted.”

She clenches her jaw. “I will not sell this ranch.”

“And why not? It’s not as though we’ve owned it for generations!” I yell. “It’s been in our family for a couple decades, and that’s it. You can sell, move to Charleston with me, and then—” I stop abruptly. Unable to finish that thought out loud.

And then I’ll never have to see Weston Hayes again. Which brings a wave of absolute devastation over me.

“Sugar, this ranch is my home.”