Page 95 of Awaiting the Storm
“Axle threatened anarchy if she messed with Thanksgiving dinner,” Shelby reminds us.
“Royce said he’d order pizza and eat it at the table,” Charli adds. “And Cabe just said he’d eat it so he wouldn’t hurt Grandma’s feelings, but he’d never forgive her.”
Needless to say, we’re all extra thankful we aren’t gonna have to chew on tofurkey.
I sip my wine again, letting the laughter fade into a peaceful quiet. The stars above us seem brighter tonight. Maybe it’s the clear sky or just the way this place always feels radiant when all the girls are home.
Charli nudges me with her foot. “You’ve been real quiet.”
“I’m just soaking it in.”
“You’re brooding.”
“Am not,” I tell her, but the crease in my brow gives me away.
They all turn to look at me—three sets of Storm-blue eyes assessing me closely.
Shelby gestures out to the land beyond the porch with her glass. “The ranch is looking good, huh?”
“It is,” I admit, glancing out toward the barn, where the new lights gleam faintly in the distance. “Better than it’s looked in years. Even with the light snow we got this morning, there’s something about it lately. Like it’s coming back to life again.”
Charli beams. “Mr. Hamilton said the same thing when he dropped off his daughter’s horse yesterday. Said he didn’t expect it to be so … what was the word?”
“Vibrant,” I say, nodding. “He told me that too. And he was real impressed with how you handled that mare.”
Charli glows with pride. “She’s spirited, but she and I found common ground.”
“Yeah, well, you got her over her fear of those higher jumps, which had been a real challenge. That’s no small thing. He’s already recommended us to two other parents. Their horses’ll be here after the holiday.”
That makes Charli blink. “Really?”
“Really. I’m proud of you,” I say, and I mean it. “You’ve stepped up. I see it. Thank you.”
She tries to play it off, but the way she ducks her head and smiles like a little girl on Christmas morning tells me the praise means a lot to her.
“I told you I could do it,” she murmurs.
“You did,” I agree, and for a moment, I let myself feel it—that flicker of hope that maybe we’ll be okay after all.
But it fades just as quickly asit came.
Shelby must notice because she reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You all right, Sissy?”
I nod, even though I’m not entirely sure. “Just tired.”
Charli side-eyes me. “You’ve been tired for years, Matty. This is different.”
“It’s winter blues,” I say.
“No, it’s something else,” Harleigh pipes up, looking up at me from her spot on the step. “You need a night out.”
“I need to finish this mug of mulled wine and go to bed early,” I reply dryly.
“I’m serious,” she says pleadingly. “I’m only home for a few days, and I want to go out with my sisters. All of them. Even the responsible, serious one who never cuts loose anymore.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not true. I cut loose with them,” I say, hooking a thumb in Charli and Shelby’s direction. “They had to carry me to bed last time. That’s how loose I cut.”
“Psht,” Shelby grunts. “We didn’t carry you anywhere.”
