“Yup.” Burl nodded. “And you and I both know, son, you could put on more hands or hire a foreman to cut your workload significantly. The ranch taking over your life is your choice, Grady, and a dumb one at that.”

Burl had been beating this drum for the last three years, but it really needled today. “I’ve known her for less than a month,” Grady said, irritation making him short.

“I proposed to Cora after three days.”

Grady rolled his eyes. “She said no.”

“Yeah.” Burl chuckled. “She made me sweat it out for a few more months.”

Having heard the Cora and Burl courting story more times than he cared to remember, another retelling was about more than he could stand right now.

“She’s in love with you, you know.”

Grady’s heart thumped hard in his chest. “Did she tell you that?” Because she’d left the portrait, and if she loved him, she wouldn’t have left the portrait. He knew that as surely as he knew all this Christmas crap around him was going to cause a helluva toxic cloud over Credence when he set it all on fire.

Burl pointed two fingers at his head. “I have eyes.”

There was so much certainty in his uncle’s voice, it gave Grady pause. But even if it was true, it didn’t change the facts. Loving someone left you vulnerable. “I can’t… I just…”

“What, Grady?” Burl said, searching his nephew’s face in earnest. “What? Talk to me.”

“Don’t you ever think about Aunt Cora dying? About how gutting”—Grady blinked back the hot burn of tears and cleared the tightness in his throat—“that’s going to be?”

“Oh…Grady.” His uncle shook his head. “Of course. But if she’d been taken from me after just one day of loving her, it would have been worth every second.” Burl put his glass down on the step. “Look, son, the damage is already done. You’re already in love with her. It’s not going to stop or go away just because you don’t want to be. The decision now is whether you get to be happy for as long as it lasts or be miserable forever because you’re too scared to take a risk. And, son…surely it’s time to stop being miserable?”

Grady knew his uncle was speaking sense. He did love Suzanne. It was there right alongside his love for Cora and Burl. And the ranch. Glowing and hopeful.

But terrifying also.

Burl pushed to his feet and tipped his chin at the painting. “You going to hang that?”

“Nope.” It was too damn painful to look at.

“Well, if you’re just going to shut it away somewhere, you might as well donate it for other people to appreciate.”

Grady snorted. “Thanks. I think I’ll keep my junk to myself. Besides, where in the hell would I donate it around here?”