Page 102 of Awaiting the Storm
The poker game erupts again—Cabe slamming down another hand and Axle groaning like he’s been robbed twice.
“Sorry about all the racket,” Matty mutters.
“I don’t mind it one bit,” I say, resting my chin on her head.
“They’ve been at it since they finished off the turkey,” Matty says.
I smile as Grandma Evelyn charms my mother with stories about Matty as a kid, and Grandpa Earl gives her a nod from his recliner, eyes still locked on the football game. Boone hands Mom a glass filled with red liquid, garnished with sugared cranberries, and offers her a plate and fork, pointing to the array of pie dishes in the center of the table.
“Best bourbon cherry crisp pie this side of the Rockies,” he promises as he scoots one closer to Mom.
“He has to say that,” Irene adds. “I baked that one.”
Royce and Axle take a break from cards to come say hello and grab a slice of sticky pecan pie. Matty pulls me toward the kitchen to grab two plates. I load mine with a slice of apple and pecan.
The house feels alive.
I’ve been to a lot of homes. Fancy homes. Places where people wear suits to dinner and clink crystal glasses. But none of those places have ever made me feel as welcome as this one does right now. A house where love wraps around you like a quilt.
Matty curls up beside me on the oversized leather chair while I chat football with her father. Every time she leans over to whisper something about Cabe cheating or her grandma’s second cocktail kicking in, I fall a little more.
Across the room, my mom is mid-conversation with Charli and Shelby, and I can see from her face that she’s enjoying herself more than she expected.
Matty follows my gaze. “Think she’s having a good time?”
“She is,” I say. “She hasn’t laughed like that in a long time.”
For a long while, we just sit there, soaking it all in. I don’t want to move. Don’t want the night to end.
I find her hand and lace our fingers together. Bringing her hand up to my lips, I kiss the inside of her wrist. “I’d like to make a habit of this. You and me. Holidays. Chaos,” I say, then wag my eyebrows. “Pie.”
The poker game. The football game. The sisters bickering over who sugared the cranberries. The way her head fits perfectly beneath my chin when I pull her back into my arms. The way her family laughs and loves—all of it.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I kiss her lips, then tuck her into my side.
I catch Albert Storm out of the corner of my eye. His eyes are on the television, but his attention is on the two of us.
And he tips his chin and smiles.
Six Months Later
The trail narrows as we climb higher, Luna’s gait steady beneath me. The late May sun peeks through the trees, warm on my back, but broken by a cool breeze whispering down the ridge. I shift forward in my saddle to give Luna her head and glance back at Caison, who’s a few feet behind me on Blackjack, one hand resting on the horn, the other holding his reins.
He gives me a slow smile when he catches me watching him. He doesn’t say much—hasn’t for the past hour. The silence isn’t uncomfortable though. I know his mind is occupied. Full of his dad.
The saddlebag on Blackjack’s right side carries a simple wooden box, holding the ashes of the man who raised Caison into the strong, loyal, loving man he is.
He asked me to come with him to this fishing cabin tucked away above a cold mountain stream. He told me it was a special place where he and his dad had spent every summer together since he was five years old. It was here that his dad had taught him how to build a campfire, run a trout line, and clean a day’s catch. This was also where his dad wanted his ashes scattered.
I told him that he should go alone, that some things were meant to be private.
But he took my hand and said, “He’d want you to see it. And I want us to start something new, Matty. Our own tradition. You should be part of the memories I make there now.”
We packed the saddlebags full of supplies for ourselves and the horses and set off before sunrise, with him assuring me that Ironhorse and Wildhaven Storm would be fine without us for a couple of days.
I think we both needed to escape for a while.
