She smirks and wipes away the tears under her glasses. “I remember when you showed up from bumfuck Tennessee. You had your cowboy boots, painted-on jeans, and your hair was . . . well.” We both laugh. “You had the year we don’t talk about, and then you met Todd. I remember wishing we could be sisters. I never knew it would come true. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I would give anything to keep you here. You’re my best friend.”

A tear falls from behind her glasses and I step closer. “You’re my best friend, too. You’re my sister. And I know you want us to be here. Lord knows I don’t want to go back there. But I don’t regret anything. Even if I knew it would’ve been this way . . . I wouldn’t change anything.”

Her arms wrap around me as sadness falls around us. The blanket of despair has been covering us for too long. “Promise me that you’ll call once a week. And that I can come visit.”

“I promise.” A tear falls from my eye. “And I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Anytime you need to come here, I’ll make room. Who needs a living room?”

We both giggle, and it hits me . . . I may not see her for a long time. I don’t know when I’ll be able to afford to make the trip. I have enough money to get to Tennessee and that’s about it. There’s so much to tell her. Things I never got a chance to say.

“Listen.” I wait until she looks up before I continue, “You need to open your heart. I know that dickhead broke it, but let it heal. Don’t work too hard, take some time to enjoy things. Also, your hair looked better brown. Fix that.” I wink.

“Asshole.”

“You saved me when my world fell apart before. You’re doing it again whether you know it or not.”

“I think you have that backward, my friend.”

She smiles before pulling me into her arms. “Take care of yourself. I already miss you and the boys.”

Now it’s my turn to cry. “I wish . . .”

“Me too.”

“I’ll call you soon.”

We hug once more before I get in my car that was paid off a year ago. Thank God for that. The boys wave as we leave the past behind us, only to have to come face to face with my childhood. I watch the house I built a family in, along with the life I thought I would have, fade away in the rearview mirror.

“Are we there yet?” Logan asks for the hundredth time.

“If you ask me again, I’m going to tie you to the roof,” I grumble as we cross the Tennessee state line.

“Do it again!” Cayden taunts. They then begin to annoy each other, which drives me crazy.

We drive for hours before we enter Belford County. The knots in my stomach constrict with each passing mile. The place is beautiful. It’s quaint, loving, and all up in your business. It’s the quintessential small town. Memories of why I left cause me to tense. My fingers grip the wheel as the muscles in my back squeeze tighter. Being here brings the memories front and center. I can feel the air getting heavy. I keep telling myself we had no choice and that it’s just until we can get on our feet.

My mother and father didn’t hesitate to ask us to come live with them when I told them about our financial situation. My childhood home sits on over four hundred acres of land with a house that could fit practically everyone that lives in the town. Daddy built it himself from close to nothing. His parents owned the land, but he vowed to give Mama a place to be proud of. When I was born, they finished the first round of renovations. Each time Daddy could, he built her more.

Driving into town, I see a few store owners come to their windows. I try not to slink down in my seat. They most likely knew I was coming home the minute Mama hung up. While she’s not the town gossip, there’s no doubt she’d be singing this from the rooftops. Her baby girl and grandbabies moving here is everything she ever wanted.

“Boys.” I call their attention. “We’re here.”

“What is that?” They both have their noses to the glass as they take in where I grew up. “It looks like an old Western movie!”

I laugh. “It’s downtown.”

Cayden groans and puts his headphones back on. Logan keeps watching as thirty seconds later we’re out of downtown. “That’s it?”

“Yup,” I state matter-of-factly. “Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.”

“Where’s Target? Or the mall?”

I sigh. “About four towns over.” The life they know is gone. Out here, there’s no hours of video games, but there’s also no risk of ever being bored. When you live on a ranch, there’s always work to be done. I grew up reining in cattle, harvesting the eggs, and milking cows. They’ve never seen a horse, let alone ridden one.

Logan’s voice goes rises a notch. “Four towns? Mom! What if we need something?”

“Well.” I chuckle as I speak, “You wait until we can take the ride.”

Cayden mumbles under his breath about hating life. When I told him we had to move, he called his best friend and asked if he and Logan could live there. Of course that was never going to happen, but he pleaded. Leaving their friends and school hasn’t been something either one has accepted well. I sympathize—it’s not easy for me either.

I get to the edge of the driveway and park. “Townsend Cattle Ranch,” Logan reads the large white sign above us. “Are we going to be Townsends now?”

“No,” I say immediately. “You’re a Benson, always will be. Your daddy gave you that name. It’s a gift you’ll never have to return.” I smile in the mirror. That’s something Mama said to Cooper when we were kids.

Logan lets out a sigh of relief. “I didn’t know.”

Cayden removes his headphones as I turn in my seat to face them. “Listen, I know you’re not happy about this. It’s been a lot of change for you in a short amount of time. But there’s a lot of fun things to do around here.” Lie. “And the schools aren’t bad.” Another lie. “Plus, you’ll make some new friends that might even be better than the ones you left.” God, I’m getting good at this. “Promise me you’ll try to make the best of it.”

They both nod. Whether or not they actually will is another story. I put the car in drive and head down the longest road I’ve ever been on. Each inch feels like a mile. The rotations of the wheels have a link to the pit in my stomach, forcing it to tighten as we move.