Page 93 of A Cowboy's Claim
“Start with yes.” Marie leaned back, her voice warm. “Let us help fund your clinic. Let us be a part of the legacy you’re building—not for my sake, or your father’s, or for Grandpa Nate, but for you. And if you’ll let me… I’d like to come visit. Your dad too. We can be there for Thanksgiving. Help you with paperwork. Bring pie.”
Sydney blinked. “You’re serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious. If I have one regret, it’s not making it clearer to you that love and career can live side by side. I’m sorry you thought that your choices had to look like mine—or like your grandfather’s—to be valuable. But the truth is, you’ve got your own map to draw now. I want to see what you make of it.”
The screen blurred as tears ran freely now. Not from sadness, but relief. Something long buried finally loosened. Something that hadn’t had a name before.
“I’d like for you to visit,” Sydney whispered. “I’d like that very much.”
“Then we’ll be there,” her mother promised. “We’ll bring things from the garden, and the wine, and we’ll figure out the details for the clinic and celebrate the man who finally cracked open your heart.”
“He didn’t crack it,” Sydney said. “He saw it and held it like it mattered.”
Marie didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at her daughter with fierce, unwavering love.
“I always knew you’d find someone worthy of you.”
When they hung up a few minutes later, Sydney sat in stunned silence on the porch.
Declan appeared with another mug of tea for her.
“How’d it go?” he asked, taking a seat beside her.
Sydney looked at him, at the mountain of quiet strength beside her, and shook her head with a smile.
“They’re investing in the clinic.”
Declan blinked. “The hell?”
“My parents. They’ve been waiting for years for me to admit that I wanted their help.”
“Damn.” He let out a low whistle. “You’ve got good people in your corner.”
“I do.”
“So, what now?”
“I guess now we talk to a lawyer. Then we plan for Thanksgiving.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “And I spend the rest of the night kicking myself for thinking I had to do this alone.”
Declan kissed her temple. “You didn’t know. You were doing the best you could with what you had.”
“I gave up good things.”
“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “But sometimes the bumps and bruises along the way are what make the good things feel like miracles.”
Sydney sighed. “You always say the right thing.”
He kissed her again, this time slow and sure. “That’s just because I’ve been practicing.”
She let out a quiet laugh, threading her fingers through his. “We’ve got a future.”
“We’ve got a whole damn life.”
For the first time, she believed it down to her bones. The cracks inside her didn’t feel like weaknesses anymore.
They felt like paths for the sunlight to trickle through.
21
