“It might feel like that now,” he said softly, eyes on the horizon where the tea plants were beginning to flourish in their new home on the crest and spilling partway down the slope. “Discontent and doubt come for all of us at some point.”

He sounded like he was speaking from experience. He was young, but she knew his father had left the family when he’d been young. And he might have lost friends in the army. So much loss. And yet without love, what was worth holding on to?

Again, G. Millie’s death hit her like a cold wave, with an aggressive undertow.

“I miss Grandma Millie,” she said and wished she could blink back beautiful tears like her sister Jessica so easily could.

Jackson slow-blinked, his jaw tightened. He looked away. “Yeah, I get that. She was one fine woman. Opinionated, smart, determined, generous but no pushover. Once in a generation.”

Meghan felt that hopeless slide backwards once again. She’d never make a mark like Grandma Millie had—touch that many people. Her sisters thought she’d gone into law to help people, but no, it had been about proving she was smart. Could be top dog. Outearn men. Win the top clients. Make her father proud.

“Her death has made me realize how… how meaningless my life is.” The need to confess to Jackson baffled her, but it felt like it would be easier to hold back the mid-morning breeze that now tugged at the edges of her bob.

“Meaningless?” Jackson cut the idling of the Gator’s engine.

The silence felt alive, leaving Meghan feeling exposed.

“Grandma Millie accomplished so much—started so much, but it was always in service of others, and here I am…” She swung her arm out impatiently and winced as pain shot through her ribs that Jackson had wrapped for her this morning to help stabilize them for the ride around the property.

“I worked so hard for my career, constantly chasing billable hours, wanting to be a top earner, invested my money, but for what?”

Jackson didn’t say anything, making her feel he was more honest than most. He didn’t know the answer and didn’t pretend he did.

“I feel stuck.”

“You don’t have to stay stuck, Meghan,” he said finally after they sat there, both of them watching Whiskey nose around the plants and chase a startled gopher. “It just takes one step and then another.”

“I’m thinking of moving back to Belmont.”

“It’s a good town. You can create a good life here. Family. Friends. Community. Opportunity.”

She hoped so. Might as well go for broke. God, God, she hadn’t even voiced any of this aloud. “I’m thinking of renting out my townhome. Moving to the farmhouse with Jessica. Downsizing my career. Going part-time. Local. Family law. Or business.”

He looked at her, smoothed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “How’d it feel to say that?”

Clearly, she must look as shell-shocked as she felt.

She laughed a little, not at all amused. “You humble me, Jackson.”

“Me?” He stared. Opened his mouth. Shut it.

“You’ve chosen careers that are service-oriented—the military, first responder firefighter, coming home and house-sitting for your grandparents so they can finally travel with a group of friends in their RV. I bet you helped them buy the RV. Am I right?”

“Had some money saved,” he said humbly, not meeting her eyes.

“You could have gone anywhere after the army, but you moved back to Belmont so you can help your grandparents and mom as they age.”

“They watched over me.”

“See, you don’t even think of it as a sacrifice.”

“It’s not,” he said.

So easy for him. Automatic. “It’s like we speak a different language.”

“Calling BS on that, girl,” he said easily. “You’re telling me that if Miss Millie had needed you or one of your sisters to move in with her to help, you wouldn’t have?”

“Of course I would have,” Meghan said. “But I never needed to because Chloe never left. She lived in the carriage house during college. She took the teaching job at South Point High School instead of pursuing more opera training in Europe like I know she wanted to.”