Page 122 of Sunrise & Serenity

Taryn looks up at me. “Sterling said you’re going to hang old photos of the family and Wild Ember in the lodge. I love that idea.”

Holden’s brows draw together, and I hesitate. I’d assumed he knew why I was up here, but it strikes me now that I should have run the idea by him first. “Yeah,” I say softly, my eyes fixed on his. “I want the guests to feel connected to the ranch and its history while they’re here.”

My stomach twists as I wait for his response, but all he does is reach past me for another box, his arm brushing mine. “Did you find the family stuff yet?”

The knot inside me unravels. “The rodeo box is the first one I came across.”

“I’ll get my homework done,” Taryn pipes up. “Then I’ll come help you go through them.”

When she’s gone, I step closer to Holden. His head is bowed, his attention on the box in his hands. “Do you ever come up here?” I ask quietly.

“Not in years.” The hollowness of his tone causes an ache deep inside me.

He pulls out a faded photograph and his expression wavers.

“What is it?” I ask.

In answer, he hands it to me. It’s a shot of Holden and Chance as boys, standing beside a paint horse, grinning, while a woman leans on the fence behind them, laughing at the photographer.

I recognize her from the framed picture downstairs.

His mom.

I swallow past the tightness in my throat. “She looks happy.”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “She always was.”

The corners of his eyes pinch, and I place my hand on his arm. “I should have asked you about putting photos of your family up. I just got excited thinking about it. Do you mind?”

He takes the picture back from me and studies it for a moment. “I think that if she were here, she’d be the first to offer to help you go through these.”

“I would’ve liked that,” I say softly.

He places the snapshot back in the box and puts the lid back on. “Let’s get them downstairs, then.”

Ridiculously, the backs of my eyes sting. It takes a moment before I’ve collected myself enough to help him load small boxes into the plastic tub that River left behind.

Because it feels like he just let me into a whole new part of himself.

And I’m not sure how much more my heart can take before it tumbles.

By the time we get all the boxes downstairs, the dining table has almost disappeared.

Taryn, who promises she’s finished her homework, drops into the chair beside me. “Okay, embarrassing photos of Holden first.”

“Traitor,” her brother mutters from the kitchen doorway.

Quinn looks up from the fridge, where he’s scrounging for leftovers. “What did you find?”

Taryn holds the picture up, and Quinn nearly chokes on his laughter.

Sterling walks in behind him, takes one look at the photo, and says, “Jesus Christ.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t include that one on the wall.”

Holden watches me, the half smile on his lips sending butterflies winging around my stomach.

While Taryn shuffles through the stacks, pulling out one photo after another for us to laugh at, I hunt for those that tell the story of the ranch and sort them into piles across the table. Family photos, landscapes, weathered old buildings, and livestock. From faded black-and-white to color, generations of change laid out for us to see.