Page 19 of Sean

“I remembered,” he responded simply. “But I’m asking that you take some precautions—change the code, chaperone people who board horses here, especially anyone new.”

“Sean, this is a working ranch, not a SEAL base. If you want to have an opinion about the way we run things, I suggest you stick around for more than a few days.”

“That’s enough, both of you.” Kelly stepped in but kept her tone calm. She glanced at her husband, who shrugged and gave her a small smile. The silent language was clear—this was Kelly’s decision to make. She turned to Tara. “I don’t see how it would hurt to review our safety procedures. We tend not to worry about those, and maybe that’s foolish of us. There’s no harm in letting Sean take a look. The two of you could do that together.”

Tara’s lips pinched together, but she gave a curt nod before checking the time. “Five minutes till you three have to go to school,” she said to her kids. “Dad, can you drive them today while I work with Sean?”

“Sure thing,” Joe replied.

“And don’t stop for ice cream,” Tara warned.

“Never on the way to school.” He grinned at the kids. “The Dairy Twist doesn’t open this early.”

“Dad,” Tara whined, but it was clear Joe’s joke had done the trick. Much of the tension was gone from the room.

Everyone headed out except for Emmy and Julia, who were left cleaning up the kitchen. She’d sent the kids up to their room to play until she could take them outside. She wanted this time to speak freely to Sean’s younger sister.

Julia had gathered up the plates and was putting them in the dishwasher when she broached the subject. “Has the dynamic always been that way between Sean and Tara? They seem so at odds with each other.”

“They aren’t. Not really. But they’ve always butted heads about the ranch because they both felt responsible for it, even though it belongs to Mom. Tara just gets a little defensive when it seems like Sean is trying to take over since she’s the one who stayed when Sean chose to go.”

“Was everyone upset that he didn’t stay and become a rancher?” Julia asked.

“No, Sean was destined for the Navy from a young age—just like Dad. We all knew that, but he’s a gifted horse trainer, really intuitive in the way he works with animals. We all thought that he’d serve his time and then come home to stay. No one could have expected…”

Julia wanted to know more about JP, but she didn’t want to upset Emmy. “What about you? Do you work with the horses?”

Emmy shrugged. “I help out, of course, since it’s a family business, but my heart’s not in it in the same way.”

Interesting. Julia loaded the last of the dishes before turning to Emmy. She was leaning against the counter, staring out the window toward the rolling green hills. “Where do you want to be?” she asked. She could tell that it wasn’t here. Not really.

“I don’t know,” Emmy admitted, bringing her gaze to Julia. “I…I was in school when JP died. I tried going back after the funeral, but I just couldn’t. I lasted about two weeks before coming home for good.”

“You were close?”

“Super close. Twins, you know? He understood me more than anyone else ever has. Understood what I wanted.”

“Which was?” Julia prodded.

“I want…wanted to be an artist. My family…they try to be supportive, but I could always tell that no one else really got why I was driven to create or how I’d make a living doing it. They kept trying to nudge me into having something to fall back on, like accounting. But JP got it.”

“It can be a tough industry.” Julia knew that well enough from her own experience. It took perseverance, talent, and more than a little luck to find success.

“My professors felt that I could make it. And when Dad or Tara questioned what I was doing, JP always spoke up for me. His faith in me gave me confidence in myself.”

“Did his death affect your ability to create?” Julia asked. Some artists poured out their grief through their work. For others, grief paralyzed them. She understood both responses. After Mira’s death, she’d taken three weeks and driven through New England. In that time, she’d taken thousands of images. When the mess with Wilson had intensified, she’d set her camera aside. She’d even lost her confidence in her artistic abilities until Sophie encouraged her to take pictures again. Time was an issue, but she’d managed to snap a few shots in recent weeks and found some comfort in that.

“It feels like it ended my artistic ability. I’ve done a little work since, but…nothing like before,” Emmy said. “I love my family, but sometimes I think they just don’t understand how much JP’s death affected me. I know that I have to pull myself together and move forward, but it’s not as easy as everyone seems to think.”

“Have you thought about going back to school?”

“A little. I should probably just find a job in the area, maybe do art as a hobby. That’s what my family expects of me. I hear the local bank is hiring tellers.” She gave a sad smile. “Being stuck inside a building all day, dealing with numbers, doesn’t sound like much fun. But what am I doing here?”

“I understand that. It’s not a job I could do either. I’m a professional photographer.” Julia thought sharing that might help.

“You are?” Emmy pushed off the counter.

She nodded. “My life is messy right now and that’s impacted my career, but I’ve built a solid one.” More than solid. She’d earned a good living and had some status in the world of photography. “It’s not easy working in a creative industry, but it’s entirely possible.”

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