Page 194 of Ransom

Her eyes open, and she gives me an exhausted smile. "No. I wish there was, but I'm the one who decided to go back to school. I did this to myself."

"You did. But the people here will be damn lucky to have a Nurse Practitioner in town. They're all rooting for you."

Her smile turns a little less tired. "I know. I get asked how I'm doing all the time in town. And lots of free coffees."

I'm not surprised. This town's been without any kind of healthcare provider for too long. Most people need to drive atleast an hour for a doctor's visit. That's not fun or convenient when you're not feeling well.

"You'll be done soon, though?"

She nods, smiling at Mia and accepting the slightly charred marshmallow she cooked for her. "Six more months. I'm done most of the book part, so it's just the clinic hours mostly. And it's good. It's exhausting, but I'm learning so much. I think I can really be good at it."

"And you're sure you want to practice here? I don't want you to feel pressured into?—"

"Shut up," she says, yawning. "I love this place. Mia's thriving here. Everyone's so happy and comfortable; I don't want to tie myself to the city again. I would never move her out of school. And just saying, the helicopters are amazing and a great way to commute during the week, but I am so done with it. I want to walk to work in the morning. I don't want to feel so rushed anymore. And I don't want to raise more kids away from family." They've been talking about a sibling for Mia. It'll happen. Though I'm not sure if they've decided on the how. They both love the idea of adopting again, so we'll see.

It doesn't matter how their child comes to us. They will be loved completely.

We both stop to watch as John emerges from the house, carrying a massive platter loaded with steaks, chicken, and his fucking amazing marinated pork chops. He sets it on the weathered table beside our behemoth of a grill—the centerpiece of almost every evening in the summers, and a lot of them during the rest of the year. It only gets put away in the coldest part of winter. Abby skips out of the house carrying a big bowl. God, I hope that's potato salad.

"Oh, thank god," Evie says, stomach growling. "If John were still in the city, I'd probably spend a night or two there during the week."

"Yeah. I think he's happier here, though."

"He is. It's obvious. I think he needed that restaurant. He needed to feel like he could accomplish something."

"He needed to prove something to himself," I agree. "That he could do more than survive. But once he did..."

"He found out it wasn't what he wanted," Evie finishes.

John is happy here, but still a little unsettled. I’ll have to check on him tomorrow, and see if there’s anything he needs to talk through.

One of our many rescue mutts—I think this one's Bear— wanders over and flops down with a heavy sigh, resting his chin on my foot. His tail thumps against the ground when I reach down to scratch behind his ears.

"Does it bother you?" Evie asks, looking around at our gathering family. "Having people work from here instead of the city? You built that whole space, and now most of your brothers aren't even there most of the week."

"Honestly? No. The work's getting done. That's what matters."

"Are you sure? It was your dream, wasn't it, to have everyone close?"

The man that planned that space, who was so desperate to keep everyone together feels like another man. "It was. But dreams change, and I'm learning that letting go can lead to some pretty amazing results."

"I like seeing you happy," she says, patting my knee. "This place, and your wife look good on you."

"Yeah, I think they do too." I want to be here more. I’m not willing to give up on any of the projects were involved in, and I’m learning that I don’t have to. But setting up a real office out here would be a big help.

I gaze out across the acres of property, mentally mapping out where we could put up a new building. Maybe somethingmodern but understated, tucked away behind those old oaks. We have hundreds of acres out here, so there are plenty of options. Or there's that empty building next to the coffee shop downtown—the brick one with the huge windows. With some work, it could be perfect. The wheels are already turning in my head, plotting out floor plans and calculating square footage. But this time, it's not because I need to have everyone close.

That clawing itch that pushed me to build out the new Chicago office isn't there anymore. Because our lives are changing, needs are changing, and through it all, our entire family has put in the work to stay close. When Bree talked about sitting on the porch and watching the kids bike, I didn't really get it.

I do now.

Most evenings, we're out here talking, watching the kids play. I see my brothers and sisters-in-law all the time, and I get so much time with the kids it's like they belong to me—to all of us. Add in all the kids' friends, and it's a party. Often we'll have other parents, friends from town, and Nan and Connie out here too. And in the summers, it ends up being some sort of free-range summer camp, where there's always a few adults supervising. We have a separate chat to organize that.

It's awesome, and I want more of it.

The Chicago penthouse has become our vacation or getaway place.

Badger Falls, and this cul-de-sac?

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