Chapter Forty-Seven
Axle
I brace a shoulder against the stack of lumber and slide another bundle toward the tailgate of the ranch truck. The Wyoming sun is already warm on the back of my neck, and sweat sticks my T-shirt to my skin.
Dad catches the other end. “Easy,” he grunts.
“I got it.”
We lower the boards onto the pile beside the barn.
For the first time in weeks, my mind isn’t racing quite as hard. Maybe it’s because I’ve been working since dawn. Maybe it’s because if I stop moving, I start thinking about Jovie, Cabe, Colorado, the rodeo circuit, the academy, and every damn mistake I’ve made this summer.
Dad reaches for another bundle.
Then the front door of the house opens.
I glance up.
Mom steps out first, smoothing her skirt. Uncle Albert follows behind her. Then Grandpa Earl and Grandma Evelyn emerge, looking exactly like they’ve looked every Sunday of my life—dressed in their best for church and determined to get there fifteen minutes early.
Grandma spots me, changes direction, and heads straight for the truck.
I groan, and Dad looks up and chuckles.
“You’re in trouble now, son.”
Grandma reaches us and plants her hands on her hips. “Axle Trust.”
I immediately know I’m losing this battle.
“Morning, Grandma,” I say as I walk over and kiss her cheek.
Her eyes narrow. “You coming to supper tonight?”
I sigh as I wipe my hands on my jeans. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Her expression hardens. “Nonsense.”
“Grandma—”
“You and Jovie haven’t shown up in two weeks.”
The reason for our absence is obvious, but Grandma doesn’t care.
“The summer’s halfway gone already,” she says. “Before we know it, it’ll be over. You need to soak up as much family time as you can while everyone’s together.”
I look past her.
Grandpa stands quietly by the porch steps. Uncle Albert gives me a small nod, and Momma slowly makes her way over to us.
“I’m making cornmeal-fried trout,” Grandma adds. “Fresh out of the river. Albert and Earl caught a mess of them yesterday.”
Damn. My favorite.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“That’s low.” I shake my head as she grins. “I’m not coming without Jovie.” The words come out before I can stop them.
Grandma blinks. Then looks offended. “Well, of course Jovie is welcome.”
My chest loosens slightly, but my eyes drift to Momma.
The person whose opinion matters most to me right now. We haven’t really talked, not since everything blew up and Cabe and the whole world found out about us. Not since half of this family got caught in the middle of our mess.
My gut twists with guilt.
Momma’s eyes fill with tears, causing my stomach to twist as she walks slowly across the yard toward me.
I stand frozen beside the truck.
When she reaches me, she raises both hands and cups my cheeks like I’m still a little ten-year-old boy, even though I’m the one looking down at her now.
“Axle.” Her voice breaks.
I swallow hard. “Momma …”
“I love Cabe.”
I nod. “I know.”
“He’s my baby boy. And it isn’t easy, seeing him hurt.”
Tears spill down her cheeks as the tightness in my chest twists even more.
She squeezes my face gently. “But I love you just as much.”
I close my eyes.
“And seeing you happy brings me so much joy.”
When I open my eyes, she’s crying openly now.
“I love Jovie too. Always have.”
Emotion lodges somewhere behind my ribs. Sharp and unexpected.
She continues, “This whole thing is messy.”
That’s probably the understatement of the century.
“But avoiding it isn’t fixing it.” Her voice softens. “Leaving Wyoming without resolving things with your brother will only make that chasm bigger.”
The truth of it lands hard, and I look down at the dirt.
Because that’s exactly what I’ve been considering. Avoiding all the damage I’ve done until it’s time to pack up and head back out on the road.
Like a damn coward.
Grandma steps closer, and her weathered hand lands on my arm. “You have to start building a bridge sometime. May as well be today.”
Silence settles over the yard.
The wind rustles through the cottonwoods. Somewhere in the distance, a horse nickers.
I think about Cabe, and I know they’re right. I can’t let this wound between us fester any longer.
Finally, I let out a long breath. “I’ll talk to her.”
Grandma’s smile grows, and Momma’s shoulders visibly relax.
“I didn’t say yes.”
Grandma waves a dismissive hand. “You’ll be there.”
It’s not a request, and maybe she’s right. Someone has to start building the bridge, even if the other person immediately begins tearing it down.
Today’s as good a day as any to get started.
The closer we get to the ranch house, the tighter Jovie’s grip becomes.
I glance down at our joined hands.
She’s practically crushing mine.
“Doc.”
She shakes her head. “No. This is a terrible idea.”
“It’s just Sunday supper,” I reassure her. “Not an ambush.”
She doesn’t laugh.
I slow my steps and look over at her.
The nerves are written all over her face. Her shoulders are tight. Her eyes keep darting toward the house sitting at the end of the gravel path.
She finally blurts it out. “Maybe I should go back.”
I stop walking.
She takes two more steps before realizing I’ve stopped.
“Axle …”
“You aren’t going back.”
She releases a shaky breath. “You need to talk to Cabe alone.”
“And I will.”
She blinks. “Then why are you making me come?”
“Because you’re my girl and you’re supposed to be with me.”
Her eyes search mine. “It’s okay for you to go alone this time.”
“No.” I step closer. “It’s not okay.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but I don’t let her.
“We’re a united front now. And everyone needs to see it.”
I reach up and cup her face between my palms, and her expression softens slightly.
“Especially Cabe,” I add.
The words hang between us because that’s really what this is about—not Sunday supper, not the rest of the family. She’s nervous about how Cabe will react to seeing us together.
I know I’m right when her eyes promptly fill with uncertainty.
“I don’t think anyone wants me at that table anymore.”
My chest aches when I hear her say those words because she used to feel more comfortable sitting there than I did. I lean down and press a kiss to her head. Then another to her lips.
When I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers. “That’s not true. No one’s upset with you.”
She gives me a look that says she doesn’t believe that for a second.
I smile. “Okay, maybe some people were upset.”
“Axle.”
“But they’re upset with the situation, not with you.”
She sighs.
I brush my thumb across her cheek. “You’re welcome at that table.”
Her eyes shine with remorse, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. That she blew apart a family. That she ruined things. That she’ll always be a problem between me and Cabe.
I hate that she’s carrying that.
“How do you know that?” she asks.
“Because you’re my girl.” The words come out without hesitation because they’re true.
Her eyes widen slightly, and I squeeze her hand.
“And if you’re not welcome”—I shrug—“neither am I.”
Emotion flashes across her face—a mixture of relief, love, and disbelief. Then she takes a deep, shuddering breath, squares her shoulders, and puts on the brave face she always wears when she’s scared.
“There she is.”
I steal another kiss. Then we walk together toward the house, hand in hand.
The moment we walk through the front door, every conversation dies, and silence falls over the room.
I stop dead, and Jovie tucks herself into my back.
The dining room is crowded. Grandpa and Grandma, Momma and Dad, Uncle Albert and Imma Jean, Matty and Caison, Charli and Bryce, Harleigh and Porter, Shelby and Waylon, Royce, Micah—all of them are staring at us.
I sigh. “Really, guys?”
Nobody moves or speaks, and silence somehow gets louder.
Then Harleigh suddenly jumps up from Porter’s lap. “I’ll set two more plates at the kiddie table.”
The room erupts with laughter, and the tension breaks like a snapped rope.
Thank God for Harleigh.
Just then the front door opens again, and the room quiets for a completely different reason.
I look over my shoulder as Cabe steps inside. He kicks the dirt off his boots and hangs his hat on the hook by the door, and when he looks up, his gaze sweeps across the room.
Then lands on us.
On Jovie and me, and finally on our intertwined hands.
I feel Jovie tense beside me as Cabe’s jaw tightens, and he lifts his gaze to meet mine.
A throat clears, and Charli appears. She circles around me and hooks her arm through Jovie’s. “Hey, Jovie.”
Jovie blinks. “Yeah?”
“You mind helping me and Matty in the kitchen?”
When Jovie looks at me, I give her a reassuring nod, and she studies my face for a second.
“Um, okay.”
Charli steers her away. “Perfect. Come save me from Matty’s horrific knife skills.”
“I heard that,” Matty calls.
The three women disappear toward the kitchen.
And then, it’s just me and Cabe, standing across from a room full of people pretending not to watch.
I clear my throat. “Can we talk?”
Cabe stares at me for a long moment. Then nods once, and without a word, he turns and walks toward the back door.
I follow.
The porch creaks beneath our boots as we step outside. The late afternoon air feels cooler than it should be, but its bite is welcome.
Cabe moves to one side of the porch, and I take the other. Both of us crossing our arms. Creating distance.
Finally, Cabe speaks. “Your face healed nicely.”
I blink.
Then laugh.
Actually laugh.
“Yeah.” I rub my jaw. “Took a minute.”
His mouth twitches. “You bruise easier than you used to.”
I shrug. “You hit harder than you used to.”
For the first time, a hint of amusement flashes across his face. A tiny crack in the wall. Then it’s gone again, and the silence returns.
I stare out across the pasture. At the mountains rising in the distance. At the place we’ve both called home our entire lives. And my throat feels tight. Because the teasing is easy, but this next part isn’t.
I clear my throat and force the words out. “I’m sorry.”
Cabe looks at me, and I meet his gaze. I don’t look away. Don’t make excuses. Don’t try to justify anything.
“I fucked up, and I’m sorry for hurting you. Sorry for lying by omission. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”
Cabe remains silent, and I keep going anyway.
“You’re my brother.” My voice cracks. “And I never wanted to be the guy who did this to you. I didn’t want to fall for her.
It wasn’t planned. And no one was more shocked than I was.
But it happened. I can’t take it back.” I look up and hold his gaze.
“And I wouldn’t if I could because I love her.
I’ve never loved anything in my life like I love her. ”
The screen door rattles softly behind us from someone moving inside, but neither of us turns around or breaks eye contact.
For the first time since everything exploded, we’re finally standing here, facing each other head-on. Just two brothers staring at the carnage between them.
And trying to figure out if there’s still a bridge left to build.