Page 64 of Firefly Embers

She laughed. “Sorry, but you’re going to be seeing a lot of me in the near future.”

“Looking forward to it.”

RAY

The day had finally arrived. I’d spent four weeks counting down the days, minutes, hours, and seconds, all culminating in Wade coming home. My body vibrated with ‌giddy excitement, and I found it exceptionally hard to sit still.

None of us knew exactly when he would be back from the treatment facility, but we knew he had checked out that morning and would hopefully be on his way home soon.

It was already noon, and I was checking my phone for any signs of communication from him, only slightly disappointed every time my notifications came up empty.

I had crafted my entire day around spending every waking moment with Wade, but seeing as I had zero knowledge of when he’d actually be coming home, I was currently sitting on the living room sofa doom scrolling social media.

A text notification popped up, and my heart rate spiked as I scrambled to unlock my phone. Deflating when I realized it wasn’t him, I sank back into the cushions of the couch.

Stella: Hey, Wade’s still not back yet, but did you want to come hang out over here? We could at least keep you company while you wait.

Me: Yeah, I’ll go over there. He will probably go see y’all first, anyway.

Stella: You know that’s not true. He’d come straight to you.

Would he, though?

I’d been so positive when he’d left that we could go the distance with whatever we were calling the shift in our relationship, but it was so new that tiny speckles of doubt started to creep into my thoughts.

Would this new, healed version of Wade still want me?

I brushed off my asshole inner voice that threatened to derail all the happiness today brought as I walked back to my room to get ready.

What does someone wear when they’re welcoming home their not-so-boyfriend-maybe-boyfriend after he spent four weeks working on his mental health in a treatment facility?

Settling on a pair of skinny jeans and a white fitted tank top, I snagged my cowboy boots from where I’d haphazardly thrown them in the closet. I tied a flannel shirt around my waist and sat down on the edge of the bed to tug on my boots.

I walked over to the floor-length mirror, inspecting my choice of attire. I brushed my thick hair back into a high ponytail, pulling out a couple of tendrils to frame my face. Content with what I’d chosen, I heaved a sigh, willing my mind and body into a forced sense of calm.

It was now or never, I guess.

I opted to walk over to D&D Ranch, hoping that a quiet walk through the woods would help ease some of the nervous energy that had built up while I waited for Wade to get home.

As I walked the worn path between our houses, I let the sound of the dense forest wash over me. The quiet chirping of birds and rustling of leaves helped my mind relax, and I could feel some of the tension easing from my muscles.

Maybe I could take Sunset out for a ride before Wade got home to keep the calm vibes going. After all, it could be late into the evening before he made it back from Ember Ridge, and I didn’t want to look desperate, even if I was.

Cresting through the trees, the ranch was alive with activity as day-to-day duties continued as if nothing was amiss. Wade and Pops had created a well-oiled machine, and even though one of the pivotal parts was missing, they seemed to have made up the deficit just fine.

Nearing the barn, I could hear shouting from the training ring on the other side. Peeking around the corner, I spotted my sister sitting on top of Oakley, a deep scowl etched between her brows, and her arms flailing wildly as she berated the cowboy sitting on the top metal fencing rung.

Sterling’s arms were crossed defiantly as she yelled. I couldn’t make out exactly what they were arguing about, but it was clear they weren’t each other’s biggest fans. I could feel the tension in the air, and I chose to ignore it, walking back into the barn to tack up Sunset for a ride.

I didn’t need to get in the middle of whatever fight was happening over there. My sister was a big girl, and if anyone could hold her own with a bronc rider, it was Izzy.

Sunset greeted me at the door to her stall with an excited whinny and enthusiastic head nod. I chuckled lightly, running my hand over her forehead and ears, brushing her forelock aside, and scratching the white blaze along her face, her favorite spot to be rubbed. She leaned into my touch, and I gave her one final scratch before heading to the tack room and grabbing everything I needed.

Normally, if Wade or Pops knew I would be coming by to ride, they’d have Sunset tacked up for me, but I had made sure to learn in case I wanted an impromptu ride. I grabbed the saddle pad, a saddle, and a bridle from the tack room, hefting everything over to her stall.

Thankfully, Sunset was a very easygoing girl, and I made quick work of getting everything in place. I double- and triple-checked that everything was secure without being too tight and then led her out of the barn to the mounting block.

Pops had built the wooden step-on area when the boys were young, giving them an area to safely mount their horses until they were tall enough to reach the stirrups without it.