Chapter Sixteen
Jovie
My phone buzzes while I’m finishing notes from the week in the clinic.
Mmm, Evelyn’s Sunday supper. When I was growing up, Sunday evenings were always my favorite thing about Wildhaven Storm.
Then another thought hits me.
Me: Sounds like a family thing.
The response comes almost instantly.
Cabe: What do you think you are?
A second text follows.
Cabe: Now get your ass over there.
I laugh out loud.
It’s ridiculous how much that simple message warms something inside me because I love family. Even though mine is small and nothing like the loud, chaotic, sprawling force that is the Storm-Trust clan.
Yet, somehow, they’ve made room for me.
I stare at the closet for a minute before selecting a dress over jeans.
I pull my hair into a high ponytail and slip into a Western-print tank maxi dress. The fitted bodice hugs my waist while the smocked back keeps it comfortable in the June heat. The skirt falls loose around my legs with a slit running up one thigh.
I add cowgirl boots, a pair of small gold hoop earrings, and a delicate necklace to finish the look.
The evening air is warm as I walk toward the ranch house, and long before I reach the front porch, I smell fresh bread baking.
My stomach growls.
Cabe didn’t mention what we were eating, but whatever Evelyn is cooking is sure to be delicious.
Gravel crunches behind me.
I glance over my shoulder as a truck pulls into the driveway.
Matty waves from the back seat. Her husband, Caison, is behind the wheel, and an older woman I don’t recognize is riding shotgun.
Matty climbs out, holding a platter covered in plastic wrap. “Perfect timing,” she says.
I hurry over. “What can I carry?”
“The eggs.”
She hands me the platter of deviled eggs. “Careful. Grandpa Earl will cause bodily harm if anything happens to them.”
“Noted.”
Matty laughs.
The older lady exits the truck.
“Jovie, this is Caison’s mother, Marcia,” she says.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Marcia says as she retrieves a casserole dish from the seat.
The smell of cheese drifts through the air.
Matty opens AJ’s car door and lifts him from his car seat while Caison grabs an enormous diaper bag, and we head toward the house together.
Caison swings the front door wide and holds it open for us to file inside.
The house is filled with warmth, conversation, and laughter spilling out of the rooms and down the hallway.
We follow the sound of clattering dishes to the kitchen, which is bustling.
Charli, Shelby, and Harleigh are wearing aprons and prepping food alongside Evelyn, Imma Jean, and Irene.
It all looks and smells heavenly.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Albert and Earl sit in their recliners, watching NASCAR, with Shelby’s boyfriend, Waylon Ludlow, and a handsome man I don’t recognize.
At the coffee table, Ruby, Waylon’s daughter, is drawing on a large posterboard with a crayon.
“Come on in!” Evelyn calls.
I carry the deviled eggs to the island. “Where do these go?”
“Right there, honey.”
I set them down carefully.
“What can I do?” I ask.
Evelyn points a wooden spoon at me. “You and Matty can set tables.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Matty hands AJ to Caison.
The baby goes willingly, and they head toward the living room, where he reaches out his arms as soon as he sees Albert. Albert takes his grandson and sets him on his knee, bouncing him while the men watch the race.
Matty and I gather stacks of plates and silverware.
The dining room table is huge, but even with the extra folding chairs, it’s still not enough. There’s an additional table next to the large bay window overlooking the front yard.
We spend the next fifteen minutes arranging plates, glasses, napkins, and enough silverware to serve a small army.
“How many people are we feeding?” I ask.
Matty doesn’t even look up. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“Whoever wanders in.”
I laugh.
By the time we’re finished, we’ve set the tables for twenty.
Half an hour later, the front door bursts open, heavy boots stomp across hardwood floors, and loud male voices fill the entryway.
I look up just as Boone, Axle, Royce, Cabe, and Micah come through the door.
Every single one of them looks sweat-soaked, exhausted, and covered in dust.
“Good Lord,” Evelyn says as Royce kisses her cheek. “Y’all smell like livestock.”
She shoos them toward the staircase. “Upstairs. All of you. Go freshen up.”
The men instantly obey.
I hide a smile.
Nobody argues with Evelyn Storm. Not even grown cowboys.
As soon as they’re gone, organized chaos erupts again.
The women begin carrying dishes to the dining room—smothered pork chops, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, butter beans, homemade biscuits, macaroni and cheese, and deviled eggs.
I stare at the spread in disbelief.
“How many people are you expecting?” I ask.
Imma Jean snorts. “About this many. The family has grown, and cowboys have big appetites.”
Looking around at the crowd gathering throughout the house, I realize she’s not wrong.
It genuinely resembles the crowd that gathers in the rodeo academy’s dining hall every evening.
Soon, everyone begins finding seats.
I hesitate, unsure where I’m supposed to go.
A warm hand settles briefly against my back.
Cabe.
“There you are.” He gently guides me toward the smaller table by the window. “This is our spot.”
I look around. Axle, Royce, Micah, Charli, Harleigh, and the handsome stranger from earlier are already seated.
I slide into the empty chair.
Harleigh smiles. “Jovie, this is my lover.”
The man to her left glances at her and shakes his head before offering his hand. “Porter Garrison. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
Harleigh rolls her eyes affectionately.
Across from us, Micah settles into his chair.
Harleigh looks at him. “Micah, this is—”
“Harleigh’s boyfriend,” Porter cuts her off. “Porter.”
“And before you ask, my man is in California, shooting a commercial,” Charli adds.
Micah smirks. “I know who Bryce Raintree is.”
A collective groan rises from Axle and Royce.
“Everyone knows that washed-up old cowboy,” Royce says. “His ugly mug is everywhere.”
Cabe laughs loudly as Charli tosses a butter bean at Royce.
Grandpa Earl says grace, and conversation flows from every direction as the meal begins. Plates are piled high, tea is poured, and butter gets passed.
People talk over each other.
It’s amazing.
And the food?
Absolutely incredible.
I don’t think I’ve ever tasted pork chops this good.
Halfway through dinner, Cabe glances over his shoulder and calls toward the other table, “Sure is good, having you back in the kitchen, Grandma.”
Evelyn beams.
Then Cabe points toward Charli. “Y’all done borrowing her?”
Charli shakes her head. “Just a few more days.”
“Thank God,” Grandpa mumbles.
Charli raises her voice so everyone can hear. “The academy’s new chef arrives on Wednesday.”
“About time,” someone bellows.
I smile as everyone cheers.
Apparently, the temporary kitchen arrangement has been difficult on them all.
Conversation eventually shifts toward Micah.
“So,” Royce says, “tell us about Texas.”
Micah grins. “Oh, it was the best. Good weather. Huge ranch. Great group of cowboys.”
“What happened?” Harleigh asks.
“The ranch owner ran me off.”
Nobody looks surprised.
“Why?” Charli asks.
Micah takes a bite of potatoes. “Found me in the back seat of his truck with his youngest daughter.”
The table explodes.
“Micah!” Harleigh groans.
“How young?” Axle asks.
Micah points his fork at Axle. “Legal.”
“How legal?” Charli asks.
“She was twenty-three.”
Charli looks confused. “Well, that doesn’t seem too bad.”
Micah shrugs. “There was one complication.”
Everyone waits.
“She was engaged to the ranch foreman.”
I nearly choke on sweet tea.
Royce fist-bumps him. “Legend.”
“Idiot,” Charli counters. “Cowboys are a bunch of pigs,” she adds, looking at Royce, Micah, and Axle.
Micah raises an eyebrow. “I prefer dogs.”
She twirls a finger in the air. “That too.”
More laughter.
Cabe points across the table. “Now, don’t lump me in with those three.”
I find myself watching Axle while everyone argues.
He’s quieter than the others tonight. The silent observer, just listening and smiling occasionally.
His forearms rest on the table, with his sleeves rolled up. His hair is still damp at the edges from sweat.
I look down at my plate.
Then back to him.
How many ranchers’ daughters has he charmed over the years? How many buckle bunnies? How many girls have climbed into the back seat of his truck?
Probably too many to count.
As if sensing my gaze, his eyes lift and meet mine.
I look away so quickly that I nearly give myself whiplash.
Thankfully, Harleigh saves me.
“Jovie.”
“Hmm?”
“Sorry I had to run off on you the other day. I hope you enjoyed the rest of the afternoon at the river,” she says.
I can feel the heat crawling up my neck as thoughts of being wrapped around Axle flash in my mind. “Yeah. It was nice. Uneventful.”
I glance across the table, and Axle is watching me again, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
“Did you finish that book you were reading?”
I blink. “Huh?”
“The spicy hockey romance?”
“Right. Almost.”
“Oh, do tell,” Charli says, and the two of them fall into conversation about the television series they both watched.
The meal drags on for what feels like hours. Eventually, chairs start scraping as people stand, stretch, and carry dishes toward the kitchen.
The men head outside.
Matty, Charli, Shelby, Harleigh, and I organize a cleanup operation as we firmly evict Evelyn, Imma Jean, Irene, and Marcia from the kitchen.
“You guys cooked. Go sit down and relax,” Matty insists.
They start to argue, but Matty points to the door. “Out.”
The older women finally surrender and relocate to the front porch with coffee and dessert.
The rest of us tackle dishes, and the work goes surprisingly fast.
By the time the final dish is finished, dusk has settled outside, and we join the others.
A massive bonfire now dances in the middle of the yard.
Apparently, Boone’s truck was filled with fencing debris that needed to be disposed of, and now the wood crackles and pops beneath a sky streaked with orange and purple.
The smell of smoke wafts through the warm evening air.
Someone has already pulled lawn chairs into a giant circle.
Ruby runs barefoot across the yard, blowing a stream of bubbles from a wand toward a toddling AJ.
Laughter peals through the air as Royce begins to chase them both.
My gaze drifts across the fire and finds Axle, who is standing beside Micah, holding a beer.
His eyes meet mine for a brief second. Then they lift to the porch behind me.
Cabe’s arms wrap around me. “Come on, Jojo.”