“Brookes.”
Wade’s voice cuts through the rollercoaster of planning I was suddenly on.
I look back.
“Don’t get ahead of her.”
Mason frowns. “He’s not—”
“I am.”
Wade nods once. “Then don’t. You can tell her you’ll stand by her, but you can’t put pressure on her. This pregnancy… It’s unplanned, and she has a life. She has a family with expectations. You have to understand that what she wants might not be the same choice you’d make.”
I let out a slow breath and try to let the thoughts of home and family go, because he’s right. There’s a difference between offering help and making plans before she’s even decided.
“What does Joelle say?” I ask.
“That Janey’s trying not to fall apart,” Wade replies. “And that she doesn’t know what she wants yet.”
Mason drags a hand down his face. “Of course she doesn’t.”
“She’s allowed not to,” Wade says. “When I think about everything Joelle went through alone with Little Caleb…” His brow furrows in thought.
“She isn’t alone anymore,” I say. “And Janey doesn’t have to face anything alone. Not when she has two cowboysmore than ready to step up to be whatever she needs.”
Mason nods. “Whatever she needs.”
Wade looks between us. “Then that’s what she hears first. Forget plans. Forget decisions. Forget what you think should happen or what you want to happen.”
Mason’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue.
I step away from the post and walk a few steps down the porch, needing to move and clear my head.
The house sits open behind us, quiet and familiar, full of rooms we’ve never had much use for. I’ve never thought much about that space before. Now I can’t stop picturing her in it. Her boots by the door. Her voice breaking the quiet. Her mix of softness and strength. Her humor and her courage.
“We should ask her to come here,” Mason says.
I turn back. He’s looking at the house like he sees it too. “Not because we want to take over her life,” he adds. “She shouldn’t be by herself if she doesn’t want to be.”
I nod once. “She has a place here.”
“She can say no,” Wade says.
Mason answers immediately. “She can.”
“If she does?”
I meet Wade’s eyes. “Then we make sure she knows how to reach us. We give her space.”
That seems to satisfy him, or close enough.
I look around. It all looks the same, but everything feels changed. Somewhere out there, a beautiful woman is carrying a Fletcher child. A baby that’s part of us. An heir to this rough place we call home.
“Is she home?” Mason asks.
“As far as I know.”
Mason reaches for his hat. “Then we should go.”
