I draw a slow breath and let it out, steadying myself in a way that feels new, like I’m choosing something instead of reacting to it, and when I look back up at Riley, I don’t see a problem to solve so much as a line I’m stepping across on purpose.
“I’m in,” I say, keeping my voice even so it carries without turning into a declaration I can’t back up. There’s no hesitation in it either. “Whatever this looks like, we figure it out, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Riley doesn’t soften at that, not the way someone might if they were ready to believe me. When I meet her eyes I see it clear as anything, the caution still there, the distance she’s holding on to like it’s the only thing keeping her steady. It tells me plainly that whatever trust this is going to take, it’s not something I get with a few words and a promise. It’s something I’m going to have to earn over time.
Riley studies me, searching for something she can trust, and I don’t rush her or try to sell it, because I know better than to make promises I haven’t earned the right to make yet. So I give her the only thing I can that matters right now.
Consistency.
“I work here,” I add, nodding toward the spread around us, the cattle, the fences, the land that’s been in our family longer than I’ve been alive. “This ranch is my job, my home, and I’m here every day, which means if you need to find me, you know where I am, and if she needs me, I’m not hard to track down.”
Wade lets out a low breath behind me, not quite a laugh, not quite a comment, just enough to show he’s heard it, while Brooks folds his arms like he’s measuring the words against the man he knows, and Luke just gives the smallest nod like he already decided I meant it.
I look back down at Hadley, tightening my hold on her hand just a fraction, not enough to be noticed by anyone but me, but enough to feel like something real.
“You hungry?” I ask her, because it feels like the most normal question in the world and the most important one all at once. “Quinn’s got a cookie jar in the house she keeps stocked, probably better than anything Wade’s about to offer you.”
She nods immediately, like that’s an easy answer compared to everything else. “Yeah.”
I glance over at Wade. "Let’s just go find a cookie.”
I shake my head, a small grin pulling at my mouth despite everything. “Good to know nothing’s changed.”
Luke steps in, easy and calm. “Georgia Mae's got lunch in town, or we can grab something from the house. Either way, we’re not feeding her whatever Wade made this morning.”
“Hey,” Wade protests, but there’s no real heat in it. “That was edible.”
“Barely,” Brooks mutters.
Hadley’s laugh slips out soft and bright, and it hits me square in the chest again, different this time, lighter, like something just opened up that I didn’t realize was closed.
I look back at Riley, holding her gaze so she knows I’m not brushing past any of this, even with the humor easing the edges. “We’ll take this one step at a time,” I tell her, steady and sure. “No pressure, no rushing anything, just… showing up and figuring it out as we go.”
The words feel right as I say them, not rehearsed, not forced, just true in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.
Because for once, I’m not thinking about the next ride or the next place to be.
I’m thinking about digging in, about building out on that Miller land and finally planting something that’s mine and now I may need to build for my child.
By the time the dust settles on the moment, Hadley’s already had her cookie and Riley’s gathered herself enough to make a quiet exit. Thanking Luke under her breath before guiding Hadley toward the truck, Hadley waving over her shoulder with a grin and a smear of crumbs she hasn’t noticed yet.
Riley doesn’t linger, and when her eyes meet mine one last time there’s still that distance there. That steady, measured look that says this is going to take time, and then she’s turning away and driving out the same road she came in on. Leaving the yard a little quieter than it was before.
I ease my hand from where Hadley had been holding on just minutes ago. The absence of it settling in faster than I expect.
I straighten and glance out toward the far edge of the property where the Miller land stretches open and quiet, the same place that’s been sitting in the back of my mind all morning and now feels a whole lot louder.
“I’m gonna take a quick ride out to Miller,” I say, keeping it casual even though there’s nothing casual about the way my thoughts are stacking up. “Clear my head, make sure the fence line over there is still holding.”
Wade lifts a brow. “Now?”
“Now,” I answer, already stepping back toward my horse because if I don’t move, I’m gonna stand here and overthink something that doesn’t need overthinking.
Luke gives a small nod like he gets it. “We’ve got things here,” he says. “Go.”
Brooks glances out toward the drive where Riley’s truck disappeared a few minutes ago, then back at me, measuring, but he doesn’t argue. “Don’t be long. And no matter what happens that little girl really does look like a McCallister.”
I tip my chin and head for my horse, the quiet left behind in the yard settling heavier than it should. I swing into the saddle without looking back.
