Page 27 of Home to You
“The river sounds perfect,” I said, meeting his eyes. “If you don’t mind me tagging along with you guys. I know how hard you all work and wouldn’t want to intrude on family time.”
“We don’t mind!” Cole shouted, pushing his chair back and launching to his feet.
“Easy there,” Jake chuckled, giving his son a fond smile. “Let’s finish breakfast first.”
* * *
That was how I found myself standing in the horse barn an hour later wearing a pair of Jake’s old jeans rolled up at the ankles and folded over at the waist with the flannel I’d claimed earlier. The scent of hay and leather brought back memories of that summer ten years ago, when Jake had first taught me to ride.
“You remember how to saddle up?” Colt asked, leading what looked like a gentle chestnut mare from her stall.
“I think so.” I ran my hand along the horse’s neck, smiling when she nuzzled my palm. “Hey there, beautiful. What’s her name?”
“Honey,” Cole piped up, struggling slightly with his saddle. “She’s the best for beginners. Uncle Colt says she’s got more patience than a saint.”
I grabbed the saddle blanket, muscle memory guiding my movements as I positioned it on Honey’s back. The saddle followed, and I found myself moving with more confidence than I’d expected.
“Not bad,” Gage observed, securing his gear nearby. “Looks like my brother taught you well.”
I caught Jake’s stare over his horse, heat creeping up my neck at the knowing look in his eyes. Jake had taught me a lot about riding that summer, not the least of which was focused on a horse. As if he could read my mind, his lips quirked to the side in a smirk as he led his grullo over to stand beside Honey.
“She’s a natural,” Jake said, his voice warm with pride … and maybe a little bit something else mixed in just for me. “Always was.”
Once everyone had their horses saddled and both Colt and Jake had completed a thorough inspection of my tack, we rode out. Cole chattered animatedly as he pointed out landmarks and shared stories about each pasture we passed. The morning air was crisp and clean, carrying the distant sound of cattle lowing in the far fields.
I found myself relaxing into Honey’s steady gait, remembering why I’d fallen in love with this life all those years ago. There was something about the open sky and rolling hills that made everything else fade away—the stress of lesson planning, the worry about parent conferences, the constant hum of city noise that had become background static in Chicago.
“You look happy,” Jake said, guiding his horse closer to mine.
“I am,” I stated simply. “This is exactly what I needed.”
The river came into view as we crested a low hill, a silver ribbon cutting through the valley below. Golden cottonwoods lined its banks, their leaves catching the light.
“Race you to the bottom!” Cole called out, urging his horse into a canter.
“Cole, careful!” Jake called after him, but he was smiling as he said it.
We set up camp in a shaded spot near a bend in the river where the trees created a natural canopy of gold and amber leaves. Jake and Nash spread out the blankets while Gage unpacked our provisions, and Cole bounded around likean excited puppy, pointing out all his favorite spots along the riverbank.
“Right there,” he said, tugging me toward a fallen log that stretched partway into the water. “That’s where I saw a family of deer drinking last summer. And over there,” he pointed upstream, “is where we found that huge elk antler!”
“The one that’s hanging in his room now,” Jake explained, setting down a cooler filled with drinks.
“Can we skip stones after lunch?” Cole asked, collecting smooth river rocks in his pockets. “I’ve been practicing, and I think I can beat Uncle Nash’s record.”
“Seven skips,” Nash said proudly, his legs extended out in front of him and his face tipped to the sky, eyes closed. “Good luck beating that, kiddo.”
For the next hour, Cole showed me the best climbing rocks, pointed out animal tracks in the soft mud near the water’s edge, and shared stories about every memorable family trip to this spot. His knowledge of the area and his excitement about sharing it with me made my heart squeeze with affection.
“You’re really getting the full Cole Mercer experience,” Jake observed, settling beside me on a fallen log as I watched Cole demonstrate his stone-skipping technique.
Jake followed my gaze, his expression soft. “He really likes having you here.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” I watched Cole take direction from his uncle, his face serious with concentration. “He’s an amazing kid, Jake. You and Jenna did good. You should be proud.”
“Every day,” Jake said quietly as I rested my head against his shoulder.
“Lunch!” Gage called out eventually, and we all gathered on the blankets where he’d spread out a platter of sandwiches, chips, and apple slices.
