Page 125 of Saddles

He won’t mind if I steal a corner off his blueberry pancake. I’ll leave him the bacon, I know that’s his favorite part.

“What did you get me?” I watch sadly as his jeans button closed.

“You might love it, or hate it.” He squints at me and slides his arms into a red checkered flannel.

That makes me pause. “Doesn’t sound encouraging,” I tease.

He shrugs, his mouth dropping into a slight frown. “I suppose we’ll both find out.”

Dixon slowly lowers the massive prime rib roast into the center of the table as the rest of us ferry the side dishes from the kitchen to the arrange around it.

I know better than to bring any breads, they’re Lori’s favorite to make, but I did make a big tray of sweet potatoes and a hashbrown casserole.

And maybe an apple pie or two.

There’s more food here than I think thirty people could eat.

Wade slides into the far side next to a lanky man with silver in his mustache who I’ve learned is Blue.

Listening to the banter, the two of them have been friends with the McCulloughs for so long they’re practically brothers.

The chaos is a perfect distraction to my thoughts. Last year, trying to sit and have a polite conversation with my dad and Norma was absolute torture.

This is easy. Sophia keeps me occupied asking about Misty’s new feed regimen, while Mason seems to take a solid interest in having me look at their calf rations to promote faster growth.

I feel like I’m wanted, accepted…loved.

More than I ever felt with my own family.

As the early dinner finishes up, I can feel Ford’s touch lingering longer, his gaze getting heavier, and I know it’s time to leave.

Excitement boils in me as we make the long walk back to the house.

“Did you have fun?” He pulls my knuckles to his lips.

I nod vigorously. “I can’t remember the last time I spent a holiday with so many people. I thought it’d be overwhelming, but it’s like I’ve known them all for years.”

His cheek rises in a lopsided smile. “Yea, you fit in better than I do,” he chuckles.

“That’s funny considering Paisley calls you ‘Uncle Ford’, which is absolutely adorable by the way.” I bump his shoulder with mine.

He wraps his arm around me, pulling me close, but he falls quiet the rest of the trip, and it has me wondering if that was the wrong thing to say.

Roscoe dives into the door first, running to his thick bed on the floor by the couch and watches us shed out thick coats and hang them up.

I can’t fight the anticipation any longer. Even if I soured his mood, I know what I got him will fix it.

Going to the tiny tree that he helped me put up on the coffee table, I grab the bright green wrapped box. “I’ve been dying foryou to open this.” Holding it like it’s fragile, I hand it to him with a flourish.

“Wait!” I hold up one finger. “Don’t move!”

Rushing into the bedroom, I grab the sheet I prepared from the closet and drape it over the bed before running back to him.

“Okay,” I say breathlessly. “Open it.”

I can’t fight my giddy grin and bounce from side to side as he tears through the shiny paper.

When the cardboard peels up, his eyebrows raise in confusion before a broad smile spreads. “You got me chocolate syrup?” He raises the bottle and tilts it back and forth.

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