Page 55 of Caleb

It was like he’d already given up on them. Like he’d decided that if this were what she wanted, he wouldn’t stand in her way.

Except it wasn’t what she wanted—not at all. She wanted him tocare,to throw up a huge roadblock and say,Don’t go. Stay with me. Let’s build a life together.

But instead, he was saying the exact opposite:If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.

Ugh!The frustration bubbled up inside her, threatening to overwhelm her. Couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he understand that all she needed was a reason to stay—and that reason washim?

“Maybe you’re right,” she said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to stay composed. “Maybe I do deserve more.”

She abruptly pushed back her chair, the scrape of wood against the tile echoing in the tense silence. Without another word, she left the kitchen, her hands shaking as she entered the living room.

“Mommy, look!” Liam called, holding up his towering block creation, his face glowing with pride.

Taylor forced a smile, kneeling beside him. “It’s amazing, sweetheart,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

As Liam continued to play, her thoughts churned relentlessly. Caleb had been right about one thing—she did have to think about what was best for Liam. But that didn’t make his reaction any less devastating.

He hadn’t even tried to fight for them.

That night, as Taylor lay in bed, the weight of the decision pressed down on her. The excitement she had felt when she first read the job offer had been replaced by an ache she couldn’t shake.

She rolled onto her side, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. For so long, she had dreamed of finding stability for her and Liam, of having the kind of life she could be proud of. And for a brief moment, she had thought Caleb might be part of that dream.

But now?

Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of how he had pulled away, his words echoing in her mind: “You deserve more than I can give you.”

Maybe he was right.

But if he couldn’t see that she didn’t need perfection, that she didn’t need him to have all the answers—if he couldn’t see that all she wanted was for him to show up and try—then maybe it was time for her to move forward without him.

For Liam. And for herself.

CHAPTER25

Caleb sat slumped on his porch, a glass of whiskey in his hand and his boots propped against the railing. The night stretched out endlessly around him, the stars above shining with the kind of indifference that only made him feel smaller.

Yesterday, Caleb had made the decision—it was time to return to the Burnett Ranch. Time to come home, bury himself in the endless demands of the land, find a marketing partner for the dude ranch, and give up on the life he’d thought he could build with Taylor and Liam.

The decision had settled over him like a shroud, heavy and suffocating. Here, on the ranch, he could lick his wounds in silence, let the familiar rhythms of ranch work distract him from the ache in his broken heart. Maybe if he kept himself busy enough, he wouldn’t have time to think about the son he’d come to know, the boy he’d loved almost instantly with a fierceness that had taken him by surprise.

And Taylor.

The thought of her sent a sharp pang through him, one he tried desperately to ignore. She had chosen a job over him, over the future he’d been ready to offer her. He couldn’t blame her—not really. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and Taylor had always been ambitious. He admired that about her, even now.

But admiration didn’t soften the sting of rejection.

He stared out over the ranch’s rolling hills, the moon rising on the horizon, casting the land in darkness with a silvery light. The sight should have brought him peace, but all it did was remind him of the family he’d hoped to bring here, the life he’d started to imagine.

Why did it feel like every time he dared to hope for an everyday life with a wife and child, something always came along to snatch it away?

It was as though happiness dangled out of reach, taunting him with what could be, only to slip through his fingers when he tried to grab it.

With a heavy sigh, he took another sip of his drink, the whiskey burn doing little to dull the pain inside him. He glanced around the quiet porch, half-expecting Eugenia’s shimmering form to appear with another dose of her meddling wisdom.

But tonight, even the ghost seemed to have abandoned him.

“Figures,” he muttered under his breath. “Sometimes, not even a ghost can help you get what you want.”

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