Page 139 of Duke
There’s a squeezing sensation inside my chest. Have I already asked Mollie what kind of ring Wheeler would like? Maybe. Am I already thinking about dream destinations, places like Paris and Jackson Hole and the British Virgin Islands that would be the perfect place to get down on one knee? Definitely.
But I don’t want to overplay my hand. Wheeler and I just said “I love you” to each other. We’ve been together for practically two minutes. It’s not my intention to rush her or rush into something neither of us is ready for.
Thing is I am ready. Would be even if we weren’t having a baby. I remember Garrett saying something along the lines of “when you know, you know.”
I know I wanna make a life with Wheeler. It’s that simple. Being with her is exciting and easy. All my dreams seem within reach when she’s around. I’d like to think neither of us is settling or playing small by being in a relationship and becoming parents.
Instead, the world feels so much bigger. That’s never happened with anyone else before.
“I ain’t lettin’ her go,” I say.
“That ain’t what I’m asking.”
I eye him. “Ever consider my love life isn’t your business?”
“Everything you do is my business.” He holds my gaze. “You’re my person. Like, literally. We are literally the same person, genetically speaking at least. And I want you to be happy. Maybe then…” His throat works. “I don’t know. Maybe then I got a chance to be happy too.”
Aw, shit, now my throat’s closing in. I hadn’t considered that me pairing off with Wheeler is a big change for Ryder too, especially now that he’s the only one of us who is still single. We’ve done everything together. Been through everythingtogether. I wouldn’t say I’m moving on now, but my life is moving forward, and Ryder’s is staying in the same place.
“Your time’ll come.” I put a hand on his shoulder.
He blinks. “I know. Life is fine, don’t get me wrong. Just seeing you and Wheeler…nice to know that kinda connection is possible.”
“I am gonna marry her.”
“I know you are.”
Next thing I know, I’m pulling him in for a hug. The kind where we quietly cry into each other’s shoulders, holding on so tight I can barely breathe.
It all comes out. The joy and the grief. Last time we hugged it out like this was at Mom and Dad’s funeral.
“Hartsville will always be home base for us,” I manage thickly. “You know that, right? I wanna travel, but I’m also not goin’ anywhere. I’ve learned freedom ain’t necessarily about going places. It’s about having the space to be myself. To live a life that feels right.”
Ryder nods. “I like that idea. And you’d better be sticking around. Could you imagine if you left me with Cash and Wy and Sawyer? They’d eat me alive.”
“Cash would, yeah.”
“They’d be so happy for you.” Ryder pounds my back. “Mom and Dad. And Garrett. I’d like to think they’re rooting for us all from up there in the sky.”
I like that idea too.
Who knows what happens to us when we die? I do know, however, there’s real power in believing your people—past, present, future—have your back and are making shit happen for you behind the scenes.
I feel Mom’s presence as I prepare some chicken salad for lunch before moving to the pork chops we’ll be having for dinner. Know Garrett’s in the room when I turn on my favoriteBrooks & Dunn album, singing along while I chop shallots and try not to cry again. And Dad—
Dad is everywhere too. As I cook, I think about how he handled meeting his in-laws—my grandparents—for the first time. Apparently it took a minute for Mom’s family to warm up to him, a hardscrabble rancher who talked a big game about keeping his family’s legacy alive on the property they’d owned for generations.
I think about him scooping one of us up and putting us in front of him in his saddle every damn day. Rain or shine, he was gonna teach us everything his daddy taught him about working cattle and raising a family.
Can’t wait to teach my baby the same.
I look up from sticking a toothpick in the cornbread and nearly have a heart attack when I see the time on the clock above the stove.Shit, Wheeler’s parents are due to arrive any minute.
I jam my best hat on my head and hop in my truck. The New House is quiet when I let myself inside and head for Wheeler’s makeshift office, where she’s pretending to work. I know she’s pretending because she keeps typing the same sentence over and over again on her computer, then hitting the delete button every time.
“Think it’s quittin’ time, Blue.”
She whips around in her chair, her expression relaxing when she sees me. “He—hey, cowboy.” Her eyes rake over my Stetson, white button-up, and Wranglers, stopping when they reach the boots I’m wearing.
